Maggie Blackbird

Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. Readers can jump from one author to another who share hooks from their current WIP (work in progress) or any previously published books.

For this week’s edition of Book Hooks, I give you a teaser from Toy Soldiers, book two in the When We Were Young series, a m/m contemporary, young adult novel.

Once a thief, always a thief, and if he can’t win the heart of the boy he loves, he’ll steal it.

Blurb:  Billy Redsky’s made one of his biggest dreams come true, but there’s a problem.  Even though the boy he loves is mere footsteps across the hall from his bedroom, they might as well live a country apart because claiming René Oshawee’s heart is more difficult than Billy anticipates.

Much to Billy’s disgust, René can’t accept his true self, so he’s incapable of loving someone else.  And all he cares about is living a life the chief and his wife foresee for their youngest son.

If Billy is to finally have what he truly desires, he must stop René from running away from who he really is and face the man in the mirror, or what they share will never blossom into true love.

Genre(s): Multicultural, M/M Contemporary Romance, LGBTQ+, First Nations Romance, Young Adult.
Heat Rating: Level 2
Publication Date: October 2, 2020
Publisher: eXtasy Books

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René opened the bag of chips and dip.

Even though Billy had yet to watch Trainspotting, his eyes kept slithering in René’s direction—who munched on his chips, not seeming to give a shit he’d given Billy the kiss-off hours ago, not caring he’d sent Billy to his own room with a cracked heart, not giving a flying fuck Keith had picked him up after work two and a half hours ago, leaving Billy to pace the floor with fear crawling down his back.

Fuck this shit. Billy hit pause.

René shoveled another dip-soaked chip into his mouth. “What’re you doing?”

“You’re letting me stay. What does it mean?”

“Oh man.” The back of René’s head hit the top of the loveseat. “It’s quarter to one. I’m not in the mood for twenty questions.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means…aw, crap…” René tossed the chips on the table and stood. “So much for my snack. Lemme wash my hands first.” He huffed off to the bathroom.

Billy followed. He leaned against the doorway while René switched on the tap and soaped up his hands. “Well?”

“Can you give me a second?” Besides washing his hands and face, René also began brushing his teeth.

Billy hadn’t witnessed René getting ready for bed or school before. It was pretty neat. The bathroom counter wasn’t overflowing, either. Everything was in the wood cabinet, except for the electric toothbrush.

“When’d you start shaving?”

“I haven’t.” René tossed the leftover floss into the bin by the vanity. “Uncle Ned said he didn’t start until he was around eighteen. I guess I’m not gonna be a hairy ape.”

A joke was a good sign. Billy allowed himself a snicker. “Maybe it’s an Indian thing.”

“That’s a myth about Indians not being able to grow facial hair. Thing is, most simply don’t bother to.”

“So? You gonna answer me?” Billy shifted from the doorway to the counter. He leaned his butt on it. Ah, he’d rather sit on the counter. He slid onto the marble top.

René used a cloth to wipe out the sink, something expected of both of them, according to the house rules set by Mrs. O.

“You answer me this.” René tossed the rag into the wicker hamper.

“Ask away. I’m an open book—unlike you.”

“You told me you loved me. It’s apparent you’re hot for Carla. What do you want exactly?” René set his hands on his hips.

The question almost knocked Billy off the vanity. “Wh-what? I don’t wanna date Carla. I want you.”

“I didn’t say you wanted to date Carla. I said you’re hot for her. Didn’t I?”

Well, two could play this game. Billy fired out a, “What about Keith? Are you hot for him?”

René’s eyes shifted to the side.

“I knew it.” Billy thrust his finger. “You didn’t even know I was alive at supper last night. Drooling all over him wasn’t about getting even, was it? You probably start foaming at the mouth every time you see him.”

“Wait a—” René held up his hand.

“No way. I’m speaking the truth, ain’t I? You’re different from your homeboys. They drool over anything in a skirt. To make you drool, the person’s gotta be packing some major sexy. And he is. Right?”

Again, René averted his gaze.

“Y’know, you say I run away, or go out and party if I don’t like the outcome. Seems you have the same problem. Look at me,” Billy ordered.

Very slowly, René turned his head.

“C’mere.” Even though a big wound of hurt sat in Billy’s chest, that didn’t mean he’d lost to Keith. He’d fight for what he wanted. If this meant getting in the ring to slug it out for René’s love, who wasn’t going to hand over his heart easy because the ungrateful Mr. Metrosexual had it, Billy would steal the fucking thing. He had tons of practice. The stickiest of fingers. Plus, he’d learned how to lift whatever he wanted from the best of them—his family.

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