Avalon

by J. Scott Coatsworth

Avalon - J. Scott Coatsworth
Editions:Kindle - Second: $ 0.99
Pages: 21

Tony has been taking care of Jake for a year, ever since his partner became sick. It's clear to him that it won't be long, so when Jake asks to go to the ocean, Tony leaps at the chance to do something to make him happy.

But when they get lost in the fog after wandering farther down the beach than Tony has ever gone, a deserted cottage beckons them by the water.

There's magic in the little house by the sea, and it will change them both forever.

Note: This short story first appeared in the MCB Quarterly

This book is on:
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  • 2 Read lists
Excerpt:

The boardwalk was almost deserted this time of night, and there was no one on the beach save the fishermen watching a half-dozen lines apiece for the jerk of a catch. The moon was full above the lake, casting over everything a silver-blue light.

Jake was awake, lucid for once, though he said nothing. Tony just pushed the chair slowly, not feeling the silence but only the timelessness of the moment, of the two of them together in both body and mind.
The seagulls cried endlessly high above, wings catching the moonlight like sails. A chill wind blew up from the water, but Jake seemed not to mind. To the left, the bluffs loomed black against the starry sky.

Everything felt right, if only for a moment. Tony lost track of time, of everything but the connection between himself and his lover. When Jake smiled, it was with the knowledge of himself and his surroundings, not with his usual vacant stare.

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The fog must have crept in suddenly, for it caught him unawares. He didn’t think he’d ever been this far down the beach before.

He turned the chair around and realized they were no longer on the boardwalk. That was odd. When had it ended? The wheels sat an inch deep in sand.

He pushed the chair forward, but the going was difficult in the soft sand. The wheels seemed to dig in deeper with each push, and he had to keep lifting the chair up out of the sand. Where was the boardwalk? And how had he gotten them into this mess?

The fog parted, and he saw an amber light up ahead. He knew they should stop and ask for help. Jake was shivering now, visibly shaking in the chair. “Hold on, buddy,” he whispered. “I’ll get you somewhere warmer.”

COLLAPSE

About the Author

Scott lives with his husband of twenty five years in a Sacramento suburb, in a cute little yellow house with a brick fireplace and two pink flamingoes out front.

He inhabits in the space between the here and now and the what could be. Indoctrinated into science fiction and fantasy by his mom at the tender age of nine, he quickly finished her entire library. But he soon began to wonder where all the queer people were.

After coming out at twenty three, he started writing the kinds of stories he couldn't find at Crown Books. If there weren't many queer characters in his favorite genres, he would will them into existence, subverting them to his own ends. And if he was lucky enough, someone else would want to read them.

His friends say Scott's mind works a little differently than most - he makes connections between ideas that others don't, and somehow does more in a day than most people manage in a week. Although born an introvert, he forced himself to reach outside himself, and learned to connect with others like him.

Scott's stories subvert expectations that transform traditional science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary worlds into something different and unexpected. He runs both Queer Sci Fi and QueeRomance Ink with his husband Mark.

His romance and genre fiction writing brings a queer energy to his stories, filling them with love, beauty and power. He imagines how the world could be - in the process, he hopes to change the world, just a little.

Scott was recognized as one of the top new gay authors in the 2017 Rainbow Awards, and his debut novel "Skythane" received two awards and an honorable mention.

You can find him at Dreamspinner here, Goodreads here, on Amazon here, on QueeRomance Ink here, and on Facebook here.


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