A collection of Faithfully Yours stories
From Christmas to Easter and from childhood through the end of life, here are ten interconnected stories revolving around one couple and the people who love them. These are tales of friendship, family, sensuality, and all the intimate moments that make them who they are, together and apart. The stories fill in the gaps before and around the events in the other novels in the Passing on Faith series. Included: A youth embraces his identity; two women build a life together; a former rebellious teen finds her way; a pair of lovers explore each other's bodies and minds; a man copes with loss and grief.
Publisher: Independently Published
Pairings: F-F, M-F, M-M, M-M-F, Includes NB
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 2
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Bisexual, Gay, Genderqueer, Lesbian, Polyamorous, Straight, Transgender
Tropes: Age Difference, Coming of Age, Cultural Differences, Everyone is Queer, Families/Raising Kids, Healing Power of Sex, Hurt / Comfort, Interracial Relationship, Love Can Heal / Redemption, Married Life, True Love
Setting: Seneca Lake, NY
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Continuous / Same Characters
Cat tapped his lips, thinking. First he had to assess. He needed to know what, specifically, he was dealing with. Quietly, he approached the bathroom door. He winced when he heard Micah getting sick. That was nothing new; Micah possibly had a weaker stomach than Cat, and that was saying something, given the number of days Cat was rendered non-functional by the meds he took when he’d succumbed to yet another infection in one of his joints.
It wasn’t a good sign, though. Micah was physically expelling all the things he couldn’t hold inside but was not yet able to speak out loud. Cat’s heart ached for the wounds he couldn’t heal. He knocked lightly on the door when he heard the toilet flush.
“Hon? Are you okay?”
“Screw you!” The sound was muffled by the door, lessening its impact, though only slightly.READ MORE
Cat closed his eyes and took three steadying breaths. There had to be something he could do, anything to soothe whatever Micah’s therapist had unearthed. He couldn’t make it stop, and he probably couldn’t—maybe shouldn’t—get Micah to talk about whatever it was, at least not yet. But if there was another way to reach him, Cat would find it. First, however, the important part.
“Just tell me you’re safe, yes?” There was a good reason, for both their sakes, why they didn’t keep anything sharp in the bathroom.
After an eternally long pause, Micah said more calmly, “I’m safe.”
“Good. Are you coming out?”
Nodding because he’d suspected as much, Cat said, “Are you going to let me in, then?”
“All right.” Cat raised his hand and slowly attempted to turn the knob. Locked, naturally. He really should have replaced the knob so Micah couldn’t do that anymore. “Wait here. I’ll sit with you, but I need to get a few things.”
When Micah resorted to one-word answers, Cat knew he was on the edge of recovering himself and might tip any direction. Continuing to vomit or transitioning to non-responsiveness were both indications he was losing his battle and another call to his therapist was in order. Yelling was better—when he reached that stage, he’d emerged from his cloud. The rage was never directed at Cat, and Micah gave the scars their proper names then. Better still was when he’d had sufficient time to feel what he needed to and moved forward. Cat would work with what he had in the moment and hope for the best.
He hesitated then left Micah and went to the living room. He crossed to an end table and pulled out the drawer, retrieving what he needed. As soon as he had everything, he returned to the bathroom. He sat down in the hallway, listening. From under the door, he heard Micah’s soft sniffling. Cat knew he hated how incapable he was of controlling his emotions, but it was something Cat loved about him. The very thing Micah was so ashamed of was what drew Cat to him. Sometimes, he wished he were so open.
When Micah didn’t stop, Cat began to hum softly, something to give himself time to think. It was a hymn, comforting and strengthening, and he knew it was one Micah liked when Cat played it on his cello. Strangely, it was among the few that didn’t trigger Micah; he even sometimes asked Cat to play it for him. Perhaps it reminded him of an earlier time before such songs became poisonous to him, or perhaps somewhere in the recesses of his mind he remembered his long-gone mother singing it to him.
Cat started on the words. “The king of love my shepherd is…”
After the first verse, he paused. Micah was quieter, only the occasional long sniff. Cat continued singing. He knew all the words by heart, as it was his second favorite hymn. A while later, he paused again, and this time, he heard nothing.
Micah’s voice was almost inaudible when he said, “Please…don’t stop.”COLLAPSE