Friday, 6 July 2012

Must Be Love by Dallas Coleman

Nick figures his thing with doctor Lee can’t be love. A break-up and booty calls sure don’t add up to something permanent. Still, even agreeing to his best friend’s plan to set Nick up on a date can’t keep him apart from Lee when a family emergency throws them back together. Will it be love this time?







What I loved best about Must Be Love was the voice. It’s cheeky, quirky, and very much what the doctor ordered at the time I started reading. I didn’t want anything heavy—some days I do but this day I certainly didn’t—so I was delighted to open this one up and discover a world where the main character was pure heaven to read about. Don’t you just love it when that happens? Well worth the read, and only a sip from Torquere Press, so it won’t hit your bank balance hard, Must Be Love is a fun read for those times when you just want a smile plastered on your face. An excerpt is below, just so you can see what a wonderful blast of fresh air you’ll be getting.

Excerpt:

"Might be love."

I look over, tilt my head. "It's not love."

Not with Lee.

Marco snorts and leans back against the booth, long fingers grabbing his coffee mug. "Bullshit, this is what? The third booty call in a month? Are you still scheduling your days off to match his?"

"Leave him alone, baby. Nick's had a bad few weeks." Randall brings the pot around, freshens my mug up, takes my half-empty plate of eggs and hashbrowns away.

Marco snorts again, but those eyes follow Randall's ass. Those two are the poster children of eternal bliss. Ten years -- ten fucking years -- and only a handful of disagreements, never even spent a night apart. 

It makes me sick. 

"When a guy can't be home for two days alone without you, that's not a hookup."

"No." Maybe it's a disease. An obsession.

Maybe Lee just wants to drink my beer. 

Fuck, I don't know.

Still, I miss him already. It's only Tuesday and I know him. He's off working -- ninety to nothing, first shift at County. My mom told me never to date a doctor, and she would know, as many as she went through. 

I sip my coffee, let it burn all the way down. You'd think I'd be sick of coffee, given that I sling it five days a week, but it's better than heroin. Cheaper too. 

"Well, there's this guy... I mean, if it's not love."

"It's not." Not on Lee's side. 

Marco's eyes light up. "He's hot, Nicky, like blistering. Works as a dancer."

"Like a 'here's my g-string' dancer?" I'm not into that, no way. Strippers take way more pretty than I have. I'm more of the freak-friendly type -- hair too long, too many tattoos, too many piercings. I'm not the buff and shine type of guy.

"No. He teaches hip-hop and ballroom and shit. Just moved here from Phoenix."

Goodie. I've become the dude who you introduce guys who are new to town to.

Fab.

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