Tuesday, April 1, 2014

FIGHT by Kelly Wyre

Blurb

To Nathan Hunt, honesty is anything but the best policy. Telling the truth has gotten him nothing but heartache and pain; so lying about who he is and what he wants seems to be the only path to job security and friends. Hell, it even brings him a hollow kind of happiness.

Except, that's not much of a life for any man. Especially one with Nathan's passion. Desperate to cure his self-made misery, Nathan agrees to go along with a con that will score cash for Nathan to start over. There's just one problem: lying is getting harder by the day. And a con who can't lie, is a con who gets caught.

Nathan's attempts to distract himself from his moral quandary lead him to a mysterious, intoxicating man named Fury. The Mixed Martial Arts fighter knows a thing or two about lies and pasts better left buried. He and Nathan have something else in common – they both want to be with someone who lets them be themselves.

Together, they undertake a journey that proves honesty is more dangerous and more difficult than either of them could have imagined. And as they combat addiction, thugs, guns, and their own inner demons, Nathan and Fury can only hope that their battle to be together will be worth the bitter fight.


Excerpt

Nathan registered the look of dulled shock in Duke’s eyes, and a presence manifested next to them. Nathan shoved Duke away but didn’t do anything else. He was too busy staring up at Fury and fighting for control.

Fury leveled a gaze on Nathan but didn’t say a word or lift a hand. He had on jeans, a checkered shirt, and a long coat that was stretched taut across his shoulders.

“Oh, hey…hey, Fury.” Duke straightened his clothing, but he was the rabbit cornered in the hunt. “Didn’t… Man, I didn’t see you.”

Fury swiveled his head and glowered. Duke backed up, smart enough to read a cold trail. “We cool, man. We all cool, here. Nate? You know where to find me if you need me, right?”

Nathan struggled to make his vision stop bleeding red and didn’t answer.

“Cool. It’s cool.” Duke smacked his lips and jogged off in the other direction.

Nathan would have sighed in relief and slumped against the wall, but Fury returned his focus to Nathan, who suddenly had sympathy for those insects pinned to boards for display.

“Ah…” Nathan cleared his throat. He wiped his palms on his jeans and tried to think straight. “Um…hey.”

Fury still said nothing, and Nathan tensed so he wouldn’t squirm. “You had a great fight. Earlier, I mean. Inside…in the…not out… Right.”

Fury blinked. Slowly. His eyelashes were so dark and thick, it looked like the guy wore mascara. He wasn’t exactly an attractive man in the traditional sense. Too much forehead, eyes too close together, big, crooked nose…

“Duke’s an asshole,” Nathan babbled. “Harmless, usually. Just fucked up tonight.” Nathan had no idea why on God’s green earth he was defending Duke. Or maybe he was defending himself. Trying to be smooth after a tweaked-out piece of shit cornered him in a parking lot, and Nathan had to tamp down the urge to kill Duke with his bare hands? Christ, what was wrong with him? Nathan took anger out on himself, not others.

“He sells some decent weed, if that’s your thing,” Nathan tried to joke, laughing feebly. Fury only had three inches of height on Nathan, but Fury might as well be the size of skyscrapers.

“It’s not,” Fury said in his characteristic growl. “My thing.”

“Oh.” Nathan coughed. Of course, he would try to push weed on a teetotaler. That was Nathan’s style, right there. Smooth. “Well. Sure. Not with what you do for a living, right? Can’t be good for the—”

“I got other things.”

Nathan shut his mouth with an audible clack of teeth. Fury still studied Nathan, hands loose at his sides, shoulders at ease, expression neutral. If the fighting thing ever failed, Fury had a bright future in poker. “That right?” Nathan asked.

Fury nodded, and again, it was slow. “Yeah.” Fury looked Nathan up and down, just like he had after Nathan had spotted him on the weight bench. Must be trying to place him. No way was it anything else.

“You were at the gym,” Fury said at last.

With the threads of recognition in Fury’s tone, Nathan’s logic died, and he got sucker punched by hope. Stupid, untimely, insipid, teenager-with-a-crush hope. “I…uh, yeah, I was. I think.”

“You think?” Fury asked with what might have been amusement.

“I do. Think,” Nathan replied with more assurance. It was easier to come by when he told himself this conversation wasn’t really happening.

Fury finally quit inspecting Nathan and glanced around the parking lot. “You headin’ back inside?”

“I…I don’t think so.”

Fury stared at something far away. “You interested in some more action?”

“Always.” The answer flew from Nathan’s lips before he could catch it. The symptoms of the panic returned, but they hurt a little less. “What you got?”

Fury shoved his hands into his pockets. “I got somewhere to be.” He took a few steps toward the row of cars, and he paused, raising his eyebrows at Nathan. “You comin’?”

Author Bio
Kelly Wyre enjoys reading and writing all manner of fiction, ranging from horror to romance. She used to work in advertising but is now happily chained to her writing desk and laptop. She relishes the soft and cuddly and the sharp and bloody with equal amounts of enthusiasm. She's a coffee addict, a workaholic, a chronic night owl, and loves a good thunderstorm. Currently Kelly resides in the southeastern United States.

Coming Attractions from Kelly Wyre
Kelly has a short story called "Choose" coming out in Blood Embrace, a Storm Moon Press anthology to be released in May. She has a novel-length tag-team fiction piece written with AF Henley called Vision Quest that will be released soon as a Free Read from Less Than Three Press. She's also working on an art project called Eight Turns of Fate, also with AF Henley, which is a story told through "modern technology" means. It's also free to read and can be found here:

 


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