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Won’t Be Fooled Again (St. Cross #2)

by C F White

Won't Be Fooled Again - CF White - St. Cross
Part of the St. Cross series:
Editions:ePub: $ 3.99
ISBN: 978-1-78651-834-7
Pages: 241

It takes more than a shared past to make a future together.

When Kwesi—Kez—Zakari, cardiology consultant secretary at St. Cross Children’s Hospital, hears that his aunt’s building has caught fire, his settled life is turned upside down. Not only is his aunt now homeless, but he’s also thrust back in contact with someone from his past—someone he’s been trying to forget for five years…and failed miserably.

Callum Wright never seems to get things right. He needs to do one more wrong thing before he can get his life back in order. Instead, he undergoes a literal trial by fire, and choosing the path of good returns his old friend to his life. Kez’s council-estate-to-professional-world transformation reminds Callum of how he’s never been able to get anything right…least of all his feelings for the man.

Kez hasn’t got over the reckless act of betrayal that caused their separation five years ago. Atoning for the guilt he still harbours at having turned his back on his friend in the past, he helps Callum get his future in some sort of order—a difficult feat when all those quashed feelings resurface for a man who can’t, and shouldn’t, ever be trusted.

All Kez can do is repeat that this time, he really, seriously, most definitely, won’t be fooled again.

Reader advisory: This book contains references to drugs, threats of violence and scenes of fire and the aftermath of fire. There are references to male sex workers, homophobic insults and verbal abuse of a disabled character.

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Excerpt:

About the Author

Brought up in the relatively small town in Hertfordshire, I managed to do what most other residents of the town try and fail. Leave.

Going off to study at a West London University, I realised there was a whole city out there just waiting to be discovered, so much like Dick Whittington before, I never made it back home and still endlessly searches for the streets paved with gold; slowly coming to the realisation that it is mostly paved with chewing gum. And the odd bit of graffiti. And those little circles of yellow spray paint where the council point out the pot holes to someone who is supposedly meant to fix them instead of stare at them endlessly whilst holding a polystyrene foam cup of watered down coffee.

Eventually I moved from West to East along that vast District Line, and settled for pie and mash, cockles and winkles, and a bit of Knees Up Mother Brown to live in the East End of London; securing a job, creating a life, a home, a family.

Having worked in Higher Education for the most proportion of my adult life, a life-altering experience brought pen back to paper, having written stories as a child but never having the confidence to show them to the world. Now embarking on this writing malarkey, I cannot stop. So strap in, it’s a bumpy ride from here on in.