Cousins: Going Home

by A. T. Weaver

Book Cover: Cousins: Going Home
Editions:Paperback: $ 15.99
ISBN: 978-1532735356
Size: 6.00 x 9.00 in
Pages: 302
Kindle: $ 5.99
ISBN: ASIN: B01ERXVN8I
Pages: 308

Betty Johnson is lonely. It’s been thirteen years since her family has all been together for Christmas. She devises a plan to get them all home. Little does she expect the fireworks that ensue when the four oldest grandkids get together under the same roof.

Scott – the New York drag queen. He ran away from home over twelve years ago after his mother kicked him and his father out.

Catherine – Scott’s spoiled sister, who is married to Lizzie’s ex-husband and spends her days drinking vodka-laced lemonade.

Mike – who has been through culinary school and is in a three-way relationship with two other men.

Lizzie – who moved to New York five years ago after her divorce from Jerry. She’s now married to Sara.

Add in Scott and Catherine’s homophobic mother and grandmother and it’s sure to be a Christmas no one is apt to forget.

Published:
Publisher: Independently Published
Cover Artists:
Tags:
Pairings: FF, MF, MM, MMM
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay, Lesbian
Protagonist 1 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 3 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Families/Raising Kids, Menage
Word Count: 96500
Setting: USA
Languages Available: English
Excerpt:

It all started when Gran came up with a plan to get us all home for Christmas and told everyone Gramps was sick and likely to die.

The last time the whole family was together was the Christmas Uncle Dave brought Jesse home. Of course we all knew Uncle Dave was gay, but he’d never brought a man home to meet the family before. That was thirteen years ago. It was also the year Mike and I found out Uncle Dave is our biological father.

Maybe I should describe the family a little.

When Gramps retired from the Military, he and Gran built a resort up by Mt. Baldy east of Los Angeles, California. They still live there, but Aunt Betsy and her husband, Bob, took over running the place five years ago which was about the time I moved to New York.

Gramps and Gran had five kids: John, Dan (my dad), Betsy, Dave (my biological father), and Carol. And of course they all have kids.

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This story, however, focuses on the four oldest cousins. I guess it’s up to me to tell the story since I’m the only one who knows what all of us have been up to.

My name is Elizabeth. They call me Lizzie, because with two other Elizabeths in the family, Betty and Betsy were already taken. My twin brother, Mike, and I are twenty-nine years old.

The other two cousins are Catherine and Scott. Catherine is two months older than Mike and I, and Scott is two years older. These are Uncle John’s two oldest. Their mother and other grandmother have a lot of money, and they think that makes them better than the rest of us. Not that any of us are poor by any means. They’re also homophobic bigots. Catherine takes after her mother and grandmother in that she’s a spoiled rotten bitch. I can say that, after all, she tricked my husband into divorcing me and marrying her. But, more about that later.

Anyway, like I said, Gran wanted everyone to come home for Christmas.

COLLAPSE

 

            

About the Author

My real name is Julia Flowers. I am a 70+ year-old great-grandmother and live with my two cats, Cleopatra (who is 15 years old) and Kiyah the devil cat (who is not quite 2), in downtown Kansas City, MO. I either tell people I live next door to the church with the gold dome, or I live at the northwest corner of Bartle Hall. I have four children, nine blood grandkids, two extra, and one great-grandson.

Two questions I am often asked are:

1. Why a pen name and where did it come from?

When I began writing at the age of 60, I didn’t want my kids to be embarrassed by their friends knowing their mother wrote gay fiction, so I decided to make up a pen name. When I got my first computer and set up an email account I had a hard time finding a username that wasn’t already taken. I’d been a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism for several years, and my SCA name is Alisaundre Muir, and I dye, spin, and weave wool. Alix is a nickname for Alisaundre and I came up with alixtheweaver. Thinking about a pen name, I thought, ‘Weaver is a good last name’, and so I became A(for Alix) T(for the) Weaver.

2. Why would a straight great-grandmother write gay fiction?

When I was growing up, the word gay meant happy and carefree and homosexuals were called queer or ‘one-of-those’. However, I never heard those terms or knew what they meant until I was married and a mother. When two men moved in down the street from us in St. Charles, MO, I didn’t think anything about it until my then husband told me they were ‘queers’. I didn’t know what he meant.
Later on, after moving back to Kansas City in the late 1960s, two men moved across the street from us. Again, I thought nothing about it. One was an actor, and we went to several of his plays. I was later to learn that one of them was the driving force behind the gay movement in Kansas City. Of course, at the time I knew nothing at all about the LGBT Community.

In 2003, there was a TV show on Bravo called Boy Meets Boy. Having watched The Bachelor and Bachelorette and being totally disgusted, I decided it couldn’t be any worse and watched. In the middle of the show, one of the ‘contestants’ set up a Yahoo group for fans and I joined. I have to admit, my record with guessing who was gay and who was straight wasn’t all that good.

At the peak, there were over 3,000 members of the group. After the show as over, several of us continued to ‘talk’ daily. These men educated me as to the inequalities suffered by the LGBT community, and started me reading gay literature and watching movies. On a trip to see my mother in Turlock, CA, I visited one of the men in San Francisco who lived just up the street from the Castro. As he showed me around, we stopped in front of what was once Harvey Milk’s camera store. My question, “Who was Harvey Milk?” started my education into Gay history. When I mentioned I’d like to try writing. His response was, “I’d like to read a book where the boy gets the boy and they ride off into the sunset together.” I said, “I can do that.” This was in 2003 – before Brokeback Mountain, and before the advent of gay erotica.

I was unable to find a publisher who would even read my story and paid $500 to have it published. Since then, I use self-publishing. My first few books were mildly erotic, but since, I have chosen to put the sex behind the bedroom door.

I’ll never make even a little money, but if I can move you in some way, whether you laugh or cry, love it or hate it, I’ve accomplished what I aim for.

Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self. Cyril Connolly (1903 - 1974)


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