A Hard Day's Night by Mia Kerick

Blurb:

High school senior Kalin (Lennon) Macready knows several facts for certain: John Lennon is his hero. Beaumont Finley Danforth II (Fin) is his best friend. And—this is the complicated one—he feels more for Fin than mere friendship.

For weeks, Lennon pesters Fin, who like Lennon admits to questioning his sexual orientation, for a commitment to spend twenty-four hours together exploring “the gay side of life.” Fin reluctantly agrees. Each boy will seek to answer the daunting question, Am I gay? Lennon pre-plans the day, filling the hours with what he assumes “gay life” is all about: shopping for fashionable clothing, indulging in lavish dessert crepes, boogying to Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off”, and yes, listening to show tunes.

However, Lennon quickly realizes that in creating his plan he has succumbed to the most common and distorted of gay stereotypes. Can he be gay and not fit them? And more importantly, is it possible that spending one very hard day and night together will help Fin accept that he’s gay, too? If so, maybe Lennon has a shot at winning the heart of the boy of his dreams.

“A Hard Day’s Night” is an amusing young adult contemporary romance about two boys who seek to discover if they must fulfill stereotypes to be together.

In the end, maybe all you need is love.

Pages or Words: 21,500 words

Categories:  Contemporary, M/M Romance, New Adult, Romance

Excerpt:

“Fin and I have managed to get locked into what I will refer to as a repetitive pattern of affable behavior, and, in my opinion, it’s working out splendidly. We are the dearest of friends.”

Scratch that. Starting over.

And since I know it’s well past time for some brutally honest self-talk, I sit up in my bed, and by the warm glow of my Yellow Submarine nightlight, study my frayed picture of John Lennon. To complete the visual, it’s the photo from Mom’s retro record set, The White Album, that I pinned to the wall beside my bed and have worshipped regularly since I was in the seventh grade. Behind those round wire glasses, the man’s piercing eyes don’t lie—John was a brutally honest sort, often to his detriment. After all, back in 1966 didn’t he assert that The Beatles were more popular than Jesus Christ? Now, that is certainly calling it exactly as he sees it.

Not that I necessarily agree with the sentiment, I respect that kind of direct- ness in a person.

I owe him this much.

Out of respect for John, I revise and reissue my previous assertion.

“The Finster and I are stuck in a rut of pleasant compatibility... an unusually

deep rut, at that.”

This attempt at telling-it-like-it-is is definitely an improvement, but it’s still

not right on the money, and I’m nothing, if not specific.

I prop up my pillow and lean hard against the creaky antique headboard (call it like you see it, Lennon—the headboard is just plain old), with the certain knowledge that I’ve completely outgrown this flimsy, twin size bed of my childhood.

So maybe it’s more like this....

“Fin and I each have one leg semi-submerged in a muddy ditch, and we’re in it well past our knees. This is the kind of murky and dark, seemingly bottomless, pit that will suck the rubber boot right off your foot with a single, hollow, slurping sound, and then belch with satisfaction.” For the third time I speak aloud in an effort to make my declaration official. “It appears that the two of us are gonna be stuck here in this mucky BFF-swampland for the long haul— bootless and slowly sinking into the sludge—unless, of course, I act decisively and with haste. And with great vigor—because, to accomplish the task I have in mind, I’m most likely going to have to shift into full-hyper-dunk-mode, possibly coupled with the drama-queen-approach. Neither of which poses a problem for me, other than that they require an excessive expenditure of energy.”

That was most definitely a mouthful, but an accurate mouthful.

And all I need is one day. Just one gay day.

Thankfully, ever proud of the open-mindedness he hides so well from his ultra-conservative family, Fin has granted me my greatest wish. On Saturday, March 21st, Beaumont Finley Danforth II (IMHO this BFD is a Big Fucking Deal) is mine for the day to do with as I please. I sincerely hope that a single day is sufficient to help Fin figure out what I already know.

Um, Lennon...maybe now is not the right time to start suffering with a debilitating bout of self-doubt.

Confidence is of key importance in this endeavor.

No, I do not have any worries, and yes, I do have twenty-four feminine-side-ex- ploring, team-switching, relationship-igniting hours to make my homeboy see the rainbow-hued light. Starting bright and early tomorrow morning.

On that note, I’ll get started with my beauty sleep. I sure hope I’m gonna need it.

I wiggle down so I’m flat on my back with my feet sticking six inches over the end of the bed, pull the covers up to my chin, and listen to my mental arrangement of “Imagine” until I fall asleep.

Buy the book:

http://www.amazon.com/Hard-Days-Night-Mia-Kerick-ebook/dp/B013O1V2OE

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/mobile/details.html?pid=1870086

https://gumroad.com/l/AAVuw

About the author:

Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty-two years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young people and their relationships, and she believes that physical intimacy has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press, and CreateSpace for providing her with alternate places to stash her stories.

Mia is a social liberal and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of human rights, especially marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

Where to find the author:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mia.kerick?fref=ts

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MiaKerick

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&query=mia+kerick

Publisher: Cool Dudes Publishing

Cover Artist: Louis C. Harris

Tour Dates & Stops:

31-Aug  Bayou Book Junkie, SA McAuley

1-Sep TTC Books and More, My Fiction Nook, Wicked Faerie's Tales and Reviews

2-Sep Hearts on Fire, MM Good Book Reviews, Up All Night, Read All Day

3-Sep V's Reads, Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

4-Sep Cathy Brockman Romances, Mikky's World of Books, Jessie G. Books

5-Sep Kimi-Chan, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

7-Sep Amanda C. Stone, Inked Rainbow Reads

8-Sep Velvet Panic, Book Reviews, Rants, and Raves, Divine Magazine

9-Sep Because Two Men Are Better Than One, Parker Williams

10-Sep Prism Book Alliance

11-Sep BFD Book Blog,  Ogitchida Book Blog

Rafflecopter Prize: $15 Amazon gift card

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The Red Sheet - Mia Kerick

Description:

One October morning, high school junior Bryan Dennison wakes up a different person—helpful, generous, and chivalrous—a person whose new admirable qualities he doesn’t recognize. Stranger still is the urge to tie a red sheet around his neck like a cape.
Bryan soon realizes this compulsion to wear a red cape is accompanied by more unusual behavior. He can’t hold back from retrieving kittens from tall trees, helping little old ladies cross busy streets, and defending innocence anywhere he finds it.
Shockingly, at school, he realizes he used to be a bully. He’s attracted to the former victim of his bullying, Scott Beckett, though he has no memory of Scott from before “the change.” Where he’d been lazy in academics, overly aggressive in sports, and socially insecure, he’s a new person. And although he can recall behaving egotistically, he cannot remember his motivations.
Everyone, from his mother to his teachers to his “superjock” former pals, is shocked by his dramatic transformation. However, Scott Beckett is not impressed by Bryan’s newfound virtue. And convincing Scott he’s genuinely changed and improved, hopefully gaining Scott’s trust and maybe even his love, becomes Bryan’s obsession.

With a foreword by C. Kennedy

Book Links:

Dreamspinner  Ι  Goodreads

Excerpt:

I’m not gonna shit you on this next part either, ’cause this is my story, which is all about calling a spade a spade. You may not get my reasons, and I’m not asking you to. But just keep an open mind, hear this story out, and we can try to make sense of it later.

So, anyways, once I held that little pillowcase tight in my hands—I knew exactly what I was gonna do with it, and I didn’t hesitate for a second in getting it done. I tucked one end of the material into the neck of my Appleton High School baseball hoodie, so that it lay down the length of my back right over my hood. Then, timing it right with the traffic flow, I stepped up onto the wall, raised my arms like you-know-who would do… and yeah, I took a great big leap.

“Up, up, and away” is not how I’d describe what happened next. Instead, I dropped right down on the brownish fall grass like a lead balloon. Landed on both feet, twisted the left ankle pretty good, and my palms broke the rest of the fall. Thankfully, my chin was the only part of my face that hit the dirt. Teeth: intact.

For a couple of minutes I lay there, trying to make sense of what had just happened. And I’m gonna just put what I came up with out there for you, so get ready.

I felt like Superman.

After all, I’d jumped because I’d been testing a theory that I actually was Superman incarnate in the form of an Appleton High School junior. (Save your commentary for a more appropriate time.)

So, I thought back to my childhood and my limited knowledge of this particular superhero that came from a few current movies, a rerun or two of the oldies on late-night TV, and a couple of comics I’d pulled out of my Christmas stockings. Growing up, I was really much more into sports—LeBron James, Michael Jordan, Shaquille O’Neal—these guys had been my heroes. But, as I lay on the ground, maybe rolling around and moaning a bit in pain and clutching my twisted ankle, I tried to recall everything I knew about Superman.

I wasn’t exactly sure where he got his power, but I was pretty sure he had superhuman strength. And I remembered that he was invulnerable to harm and a very fast healer. I couldn’t check the box next to “fast healer” as a way in which I was similar to Superman, because I’d gotten hurt in my eight-foot leap, and my ankle seemed to be getting worse by the second, not better.

Superhuman speed. Nope, I couldn’t check that box either, seeing as I had been late for school yesterday, and it looked like I was gonna be late again today. And then there were Superman’s senses. Didn’t he have X-ray vision? He could see through solid objects, right? So I looked up to see if my backpack was still resting on the ground beside the sidewalk, on the other side of the stone wall, but all I could see was stone wall. And shouldn’t I have been able to smell the delicious egg scramble omelet with my name on it that was waiting for me in the school cafeteria? I mean, I surely would have been able to, if I had Superman’s enhanced sense of smell, right? And shouldn’t I be able to hear the late bell ringing, right about now, for that matter, from exactly where I was—one block from the school? But I only smelled the scent of the rotting fall leaves that surrounded me and heard just the sporadic rush of traffic on the street above.

And then there was the whole flying thing. The phrases “it’s a bird, it’s a plane” and “able to leap tall buildings” were ingrained in my mind as descriptive of Superman. Not so much for Bryan Dennison, though, even with the red (pillowcase) cape streaming behind him.

What it seemed to come down to was that I felt like Superman, but I wasn’t Superman. No strange other-planet-like chemical reaction had occurred in my bloodstream on Sunday night while I’d slept to cause a magical physical change to occur in me that had created superpowers. No, the only change that had occurred was in my head. I had somehow developed a compelling urge to protect the innocent. It was as if I suddenly knew, or maybe I suddenly cared about, the difference between right and wrong, whereas I clearly hadn’t before. And I was willing to act on my new convictions.

I tried to push myself up off the ground, but my arms shook—too weak from the fall. So, getting back to the superhuman-strength thing I mentioned before, it definitely wasn’t happening here. So I couldn’t check that box either.

It looked like I was merely Superman of Intention. I had limits.

And so, as I accomplished what it was I knew I had to accomplish in the town of Appleton, or, in other words, as I protected the innocent in this small community I had somehow become responsible for, I would need to work within these limits: no superhuman strength or speed or senses, no flying or fast-healing abilities. (As a matter of fact, I might very well need to see the school nurse about an Ace bandage as soon as I got to school.) All I had to work with was just regular old Bryan Dennison—a man with a

new motivation, a deep uncertainty as to how I’d acquired this new motivation, some major memory lapses when it came to Scott Beckett, a group of very athletic and very arrogant friends, a twisted ankle, and a new set of red sheets.

Wish me luck.

I think I’m gonna need it.

Guest Post:

Hi, thank you for inviting me over to your blog.

Why are we as a society so obsessed by superheroes?

In my opinion, the reason our society is obsessed by the concept of the superhero is simple and can be summed up in one word: hope. The superhero offers us unquestionable, even incomprehensible, hope in the form of someone we can relate to in our everyday lives.

While writing The Red Sheet, I became aware of the abundance of YA novels that dealt with the superhero concept, and specifically, that there are more than a few YA LGBTQ novels that are devoted to this very theme. This fact did not deter my desire to put forth my take on a teenaged superhero story. Why not, you may wonder. Isn’t the whole superman thing a “been there, done that” kind of topic? But where there is an extremely difficult and pervasive societal problem, such as teenaged bullying, there is also a desire in many for the existence of a force to counter that problem. To police our lives, in a sense. To make things right where an innocent has been wronged. And thus, the need for a superhero story.

Bryan Dennison is an unlikely superhero, as he crossed over from “the other side”; he actually rather mystically morphed overnight from the arch villain into the ultimate good guy. As such, he is a character we can all relate to in both forms.  And in his “good guy” form, we can relate to his struggles as a human being, while simultaneously recognizing his superhero-like calling to police society, with no other agenda than to do what is right.

Bryan deals with issues relevant to teens, such as respecting parents and teachers, dealing with others honestly, behaving fairly in sports, and assisting those less fortunate. And yes, he must face The Red Sheets’ big issue: bullying at the high school level, both in and out of the school building. In this case, the specific issue Bryan must address is the bullying of a fellow high school junior, Scott Beckett, who he also happens to be in love with.

And in case you are wondering, the “red sheet” in question is symbolic of Bryan’s overwhelming urge to tie a red sheet around his neck and wear it like a Superman cape…

Find out how Bryan counters high school bullying.

IN GOOD COMPANY!! Other super hero YA LGBTQ novels I came across in a very brief search:

Book Links:

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4726

About the Author:

Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled men and their relationships, and she believes that sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.

Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

My themes I always write about:

Sweetness. Unconventional love, tortured/damaged heroes- only love can save them.

Author Links:

http://miakerick.com/

https://www.facebook.com/mia.kerick

http://www.amazon.com/Mia-Kerick/e/B009KSTG9E/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1389575652&sr=1-1

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