by
Retiring from the sport he loved had never been part of Crow’s five-year plan. Unfortunately, the head injuries he’s amassed over years of Mixed Martial arts fighting have left him little choice but to throw in the towel and begin a new, shaky road towards…what? He’s got no clue, that’s for sure. In fact, the only thing he’s certain of is that living a few short blocks from the gym is not the way to put the sport behind him, not when he still hasn’t told any of his friends or training partners exactly why it is he suddenly decided to hang up his gloves.
Moving is the only option that comes to mind, and what better place to retreat to than the beauty of the Vermont wilderness he loved visiting in his younger days. After all, he still has family there, and it’s far removed from the sport he’s struggling to walk away from.
Speaking of walking away. Ever since he found proof of his late husband’s infidelity, Jaylon’s been wishing the man had abandoned him long before his illness stole his life. At least then he wouldn’t be torn between fury and mourning, wondering what he’d done to drive away the man he’d loved. He’s way too old to be starting over, or at least, that’s what he tells himself before Crowley “Crow” Davies pulls up to the cabin Jaylon was renting out, beautiful hitchhiker in tow.
Now he’s got one eye on Crow and one on Owen, a budding new dynamic forming between them, but will it all come crashing down when Crow’s best friend, Jesse, shows up, looking to reconnect. A former fighter who left the sport two years before, he’s been friends with benefits with Crowley since before either stepped foot in a cage to fight. The chemistry between the sheets is smokin’ hot, but there’s always been something missing, something the two never could put their fingers on.
Can the inclusion of Owen and Jaylon provide the pieces they’ve always needed, or will someone find themselves left out in the cold.
Editors:
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: 4+ or Other
Heat Level: 3
Romantic Content: 4
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay, Pansexual, Polyamorous
Protagonist 1 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 2 Age: 36-45
Protagonist 3 Age: 46-65
Tropes: Famous / Not Famous, Hurt / Comfort, Interracial Relationship
Word Count: 93100
Setting: Cabin by a Lake in Vermont
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Continuous / Same Characters
“And the winner, by submission, via the rear-naked choke, with one minute, fifty-two seconds remaining in the second round, Crowley “The Crow,” Daviessssssss.”
Listening to his name echo over the cheering crowd never got old. On the remarkably short list of things he’d miss about the sport, this was near the top. Gulping in air, he struggled to regulate his breathing, mouth dry despite the water he’d drunk. This was it. The moment he’d welcomed and dreaded for the past three weeks.
Congratulating him on his victory, the interviewer, Chuck something or another he’d never been able to pronounce, tipped the mic his way, asking what he planned to do next. Funny, but next had always meant calling out an opponent, chasing a title, settling a score. Tonight, his heart pounded and not just from the exertion of the fight. Crow licked his lips, hoping to get the words out without choking on them.
READ MORE“There is no next. Tonight, I fought my final bout. Not a bad way to go out, either. I just want to thank my friends and training partners at Triple Tap for always having my back. You’ve been my family for so long it’s going to be surreal waking up Monday morning and not going to the gym to train. A guy couldn’t ask for a better team. Keep pushing one another, never quit. I’m going to enjoy watching you all from my couch for a change. I want to give a shout out to the fans, without all of you what would be the point. Major props to Donovan for my final match, thank you for being one hell of an opponent, I’ll be feeling those strikes for a while. Thanks to Jeff Ritter and the folks at FWF for giving me the opportunity to earn a living doing the one thing I’ve always been good at. It’s been a long, crazy ride. Thank you for being with me every step of the way.”
One final wave, clasping hands with Donovan, a brief, sweaty hug, and those steps he’d had nightmares of tripping down. Backslaps and a whole bunch of “Why didn’t you tell me’s” on the way back to the locker room, then silence, blessed silence, which was good, ‘cause it was suddenly hard to breathe and the last thing he needed was to have a panic attack in front of everyone. He hoped that’s what it was, anyway, ‘cause if it was a heart attack that would be a shitty way to end the night.
Cold towel on the back of his neck, drink another water, breathe in, exhale, now do it again. Fingers pressed to his wrist, good, his pulse was no longer racing. Buzzing, cell phone glowing blue in the duffle bag at his feet. It vibrated in his hand when he pulled it out, Jesse’s name flashing across the screen. No way was he dealing with that right now. There was cheering in the distance, dim, dull, he wouldn’t be able to hear it in the shower once he made it there.
The phone he could hear, buzzing again. Son of a bitch, who now? Morgan. Wasn’t in the mood to deal with those questions either. One night. Couldn’t they give him one fuckin’ night to process what he’d done? The reality was already beginning to get heavy, panic only a fingertip away. He never should have sat on that bench. His feet felt like lead now, his shoulders heavy and slumped. This was it. He was done. Retired at 45. Still young enough to do something else with his life besides trading punches with someone.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he winced when his fingertips grazed the cut over his eye. His cheek was tender, his left side ached from a kick Donovan had caught him with. It was time to be done. Time to stop risking concussions that might leave him more brain damaged than he already was and injuries that could leave him in too much pain to get out of bed. As it was, his left knee throbbed when it rained, the result of a surgery that wouldn’t have been necessary if he hadn’t been too bullheaded to tap when he needed to.
Now he was more than happy to tap out completely and breathe a sigh of relief that this part of his life was over, that he could finally quit fighting and just…rest. Bone weary he stood, took a moment to steady himself, waited for the sledgehammer slam of panic that had been hitting on and off ever since he’d made this decision. No, he hadn’t told anyone. Hadn’t talked about it, hell, the last time he’d talked to one of them about it they’d talked him out of it. He’d let them talk him out of it. Let them talk him into three more years of mat drills, cardio, waking up before the sun to stretch and run and drink kale smoothies instead of scarfing French toast. No bad carbs except on cheat day, and even then, he’d felt guilty for putting something in his body that wasn’t designed to help it run at optimal levels.
In the morning, he was having French toast, with sausage links, and strawberries, whipped cream and chocolate milk. Afterwards, he was going to walk through the park to the bookstore on the other side, browse without checking his watch to see what time he needed to work a training session with someone. On the way home, he’d stop for a small bag of mini-donuts, pick up a steak and some salad fixings for supper, ‘cause no way in hell was he gonna let the body he’d worked so hard to sculpt go to fat in his retired years, even if he could afford to relax some of his stricter dietary rules.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Put one foot in front of the other until his fingertips touched the slick tiles of the shower stall. He’d done this a million times, even half blind from punches. Tonight his fingers fumbled with the knob and the cold water wouldn’t warm up, so he took the plunge and stepped beneath the spray while it was still icy.
The longer he leaned against the wall the heavier his hair grew. It clung to his shoulders, molded against his neck. What would it feel like to be halfway down his back the way he’d always wanted to grow it?
With rhythmic movements he washed the sweat from his body, inhaled and shivered, laughing, ‘cause it was fuckin’ ridiculous that an event center of this size didn’t have enough hot water that all the athletes could get clean without freezing their assets off. Oh well, he was almost done. All he needed to do now was wash his hair, get dressed, throw his gear in the back of his SUV, go home and start enjoying his retirement.
Simple.
Basic.
Easy.
Until it wasn’t.
COLLAPSESusie Umphers on amazon wrote:I like the story quite a bit, I appreciated how the main characters were pretty good at communicating and it was realistic when they had problems. I was hoping the whole book would be all four characters instead of the 4th 1 not joining until the end, but it worked out. The only thing I did have some issues with was understanding the timing. Sometimes I did not know if a day had passed or a week or a month. Especially when there was a business being opened and the one scene they are going to look at sight and the next thing you know they're running the business. A little more clarification there would have been nice.
This was my first MMMM book and I'll be honest, I wasn't quite sure an author could create four very distinct characters I'd care about and make them all work in a relationship together without losing their unique character. Boy was I wrong, Dorine does that and makes sure everyone's needs are respected and met. You'll read in the blurb about the characters and their backgrounds, but what you won't get enough information about is the amount of reading, writing and discussing books these guys do. Jaylon is a writer, Owen has experience as a researcher and Crow and Jesse are avid readers. Part of the chemistry among them is their love of books. And that chemistry sets off sparks hot enough to burn up Vermont. Dorine's non-poly romances are equally good, but no one does MMM and MMMM better.
