All the Colors of Love by Jessica Freely

All the Colors of Love

by Jessica Freely

Gay YA science fiction romance

78,000 words

ISBN: 978-1-62798-153-8

Publisher Buy Link: 

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4174&cPath=816_817

ARe:

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-allthecolorsoflove-1269844-145.html

Book Page on Author Website:

http://www.friskbiskit.com/book-page-all-the-colors-of-love.html

Blurb:

It sucks being the son of a super villain. At home, Harry spends half of his time getting medical treatments and the other half tied up in his father's underwater lair. It was different when his mother was alive, but she disappeared when Harry was six. He can't seem to stay out of trouble at school, and his new roommate, Antonin, thinks he’s a spaz, but somehow Harry has to find a way to stop his father's evil plans.

Antonin Karganilla wants to become a comic book artist, but other than that, being gay is the most normal thing about him. His uncle is an aquatic plant man, his aunt is a molecular biologist back from the dead, and his mom is an overprotective pain in the butt. Antonin's in boarding school and it's starting to look like he and this Harry kid might have a lot in common... and that means a whole new set of problems.

Excerpt:

Harry browsed through the shelves of comics, unable to actually concentrate on the titles, but it gave him something to do while Antonin unpacked. “Now aren’t you glad you came here?” Antonin asked. 

More than anything. Harry put Issue #499 of Meta-Cop back on the shelf and turned around. “Yes. Antonin?” 

“Yeah?” Antonin looked up from the pile of socks he was stuffing into the top drawer of his dresser. 

“Thank you.” 

“Sure.” 

“You know you really shouldn’t go to all this trouble for me.” 

“It’s not trouble.” 

“But—” The self-recrimination he was about to offer up as evidence of his worthlessness died on his lips as he took in the expression on Antonin’s face. 

Antonin left the socks and came to stand in front of him. They were no more than two feet apart. “I wasn’t sleeping,” said Antonin. 

“Huh?” 

“On the plane. I wasn’t sleeping.” 

Oh. Harry hung his head. Was it possible to actually die of shame? 

But then Antonin touched Harry’s upper arm and took another step closer. He stood on his tiptoes, and put his other hand on Harry’s shoulder. Oh. 

The first brush of Antonin’s lips against his unleashed a torrent of feeling through Harry’s whole body. Warm fog, icy needle rain, thunder, and shocks of white-hot lightning—a hurricane raged inside him. He was surprised to find them still standing in the middle of Antonin’s tidy room and not flying around bouncing off the walls along with everything else that wasn’t nailed down.