STATUS UPDATE
#gaymers book one
Annabeth Albert
Releasing Dec 7th, 2015
Carina Press
That is until Noah Walters offers him shelter for the night and a reluctant cross-country ride. Nothing about the ultraconservative geoarchaeologist should attract Adrian, but once he discovers Noah’s hidden love for video games, the two connect on a new level. Soon, a quiet but undeniable chemistry sparks.
Something doesn’t add up, though. As the miles accumulate and time runs out, Noah must face the most difficult choice of his life. Meanwhile, Adrian must decide whether he’s ready to level up. Is their relationship status worth fighting for, or has this game ended before it's even begun?
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Noah
knew the dog was trouble as soon as he and Ulysses entered the campground’s
off-leash dog area. The little guy—some sort of Chihuahua/mini-pin mix in a
yellow-and-green checked coat—stood in the center of the scrubby grass, barking
his fool head off. The only human in the dog area sat at the picnic table on
the far side, completely absorbed in his shiny phone, oblivious to his dog
strutting around like all eight pounds of him would be enough to keep potential
threats out.
Ulysses
gave Noah a look, like “you really expect me to ignore that?” Noah tightened his hold on the tennis ball chucker. Ulysses
never did well competing with smaller dogs for his toys. He unclipped Ulysses
with a stern look.
“Be
good.”
Still yapping,
the little dog rushed over to inspect his new enemy. Predictably, Ulysses
wandered away to do his business. He was too old for these sorts of games.
Noah
gave a halfhearted wave in the direction of the owner, but the guy didn’t look
up from his phone. The young guy was a typical hipster tourist—thick
tortoise-framed glasses, artfully messed-up dark hair, with a thick purple
streak, falling over his forehead. Slim build, but his wide shoulders stretched
his too-thin jacket, making the shiny fabric ripple with his motions. He wasn’t
any more prepared for November in Utah than his designer dog. Still, he was a
cute guy, if one was the type to notice things like that, which Noah was not.
Noah
looked away, studying the sheer cliffs that surrounded the Capitol Reef
National Park. Didn’t matter how much time he spent in Southern Utah, he never
got tired of the view. Phone guy was missing the light shifting into one of
those perfect late fall sunsets that made the early dusk worth the loss of
daylight. Pink streaks mingled with gray sky to cast a rosy glow over the
scrubby grass and low fence of the dog area.
Rowwwr. Ulysses flopped at Noah’s feet, a deep
beseeching whine rattling out of his barrel chest. He was eighty pounds of
unhappy. He’d waited patiently all afternoon while Noah worked, and now he was
missing out on his ball time thanks to the teacup gatekeeper.
“Okay,
but play nice.” Noah threw the ball hard with the chucker toy, going for enough
distance to outstrip the tiny dog’s ability to keep up with Ulysses. Not
surprisingly, the little guy was tenacious, cutting off Ulysses’s path to the
ball. Ulysses gave a warning woof, and Noah broke into a run, heading
after the dogs.
“Down,”
he called out. Ulysses wouldn’t attack the smaller dog, but he wasn’t above a
major tantrum. And despite the smaller dog acting as instigator, people would
see the huge black dog and toss out the “aggressor” label. Noah preferred to
exercise him late in the day—Ulysses simply didn’t enjoy playing with other
dogs, and Noah wasn’t one to force his dog into uncomfortable situations.
The
little dog stood over the ball, yapping up a storm while Ulysses barked and
growled, ignoring Noah’s command to sit.
Finally,
the owner hefted himself off the picnic bench.
“Pixel,
baby, what are you doing?” the owner called in a melodic voice that didn’t
inspire Noah’s confidence in the man’s ability to control his dog. “Did the big
doggie scare you?”
Hah. Typical. Noah snorted. “Can you grab
the ball?” He didn’t trust those little dog breeds—too quick to snap. He’d
nearly been bitten trying to retrieve a ball more than once.
“Oh
sure.” The guy reached under Pixel—typical cutesy name for an annoying dog—and
delicately plucked the ball free, but instead of handing it to Noah, he gave it
a toss, sending both dogs running.
Oh great. Noah let out a slow breath, little
puffs of vapor in the crisp evening air that did nothing to defuse his tension.
“It’ll
be okay.” The way-too-handsy guy patted the sleeve of Noah’s parka. “They just
need to work it out. Pixel loves to play.”
Noah
took a step to the side. Who did that? Touched complete strangers? But the guy
kept up his friendly grin, not unlike his dog, who kept gamely chasing Ulysses.
Ulysses won the race to the ball this time and hightailed it back to Noah. Not
releasing his prize, he whined softly.
“Hey,
boy. You got a toy?” The guy knelt to dog level and extended a hand, but
instead of sniffing, Ulysses shook his head.
“Sorry.
He’s not much on new people.” Neither am
I. Noah’s voice sounded rough to his own ears—too many days with only
Ulysses to talk to.
“It’s
okay.” The guy straightened, then extended a hand to Noah. “I’m Adrian
Gottlieb. You been at Capitol Reef long?”
“Couple
of weeks.” He returned Adrian’s handshake, hating it when a little buzz shot up
his arm. Unlike his own gloved hand, Adrian’s hand was bare, a hint of a tattoo
playing peekaboo with his cuff, his grip strong and firm. And Noah had
absolutely no business noticing anything more than the guy’s relentless
friendliness.
Adrian
smiled expectantly as he released Noah’s hand.
“Oh,
I’m Noah. And that’s Ulysses,” he added, because dog people always wanted to know all about the dog. No
doubt the guy was bursting to tell Pixel’s life story.
“Add-dreeee-an,” a heavily accented voice called from
the gate. A beefy guy close to Noah’s age leaned on the fence, bald head
gleaming in the setting sun. “I’m lonely.
When are you coming back?”
“Coming,”
Adrian shouted, then gave Noah a shrug with a “what can you do?” expression on
his face. He grabbed Pixel and jogged across the field.
Noah
nodded like he knew anything about
handling demanding friends. Adrian greeted the mammoth dude with a quick peck. Okay then. Not a friend. He should have
guessed, but he was a bit slow about relationship stuff. The country was
changing, even way out here, but no one would dare try even that much PDA in
his tiny West Texas college town. His stomach gave a weird flip—not quite
discomfort, but something else he refused to name. Time to return his attention
to Ulysses. He hurled the tennis ball as hard as he could.
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Emotionally complex, sexy, and funny stories are her favorites both to read and to write. Annabeth loves finding happy endings for a variety of pairings and is a passionate gay rights supporter. In between searching out dark heroes to redeem, she works a rewarding day job and wrangles two toddlers.
Represented by Saritza Hernandez of the Corvisiero Literary Agency
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