Author: Parker Avrile
Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance
Length: Novella, 100 pages (28,000 words)
Publication Date: Dec. 20, 2016
Heat Level: Three flames (some language and adult situations)
Author Website: http://www.therunawaymodel.com/
Sales links: Amazon | Amazon UK
Createspace Paperback
Can a younger man and his talented dog put a phobic screenwriter on the red arrivals carpet at the Academy Awards ceremony?
Chance looks like success. The white-hot gay screenwriter of the moment simply must attend the Academy Awards. But Chance has a secret-- severe agoraphobia. Sometimes he can't even leave his building. Chance has tried everything. Except Nolan...
His hired genius turns out to be red hot, but Chance needs to play it cool. He can't blow this opportunity. With the help of a quirky Jack Russell Terrier, Nolan can train Chance to operate a telepresence robot from Manhattan to walk the red carpet for him in Hollywood. The stunt will be great publicity for both men. It's about show business, not monkey business.
Training Chance leads to touching, but Nolan tells himself to go slow. The sophisticated older man is way out of his league. So how did they end up together at a rooftop party on New Year's Eve?
Excerpt:
Chance wanted him. The question was, did he want him for a night, or did he want something deeper? If he was just fooling around, it could get messy for the job if they got too deep too fast. Nolan was still debating what he should do when Chance hooked his arm in his to walk him down the street to Chance's building.
"You live in the same building where you work?"
"Yeah, actually..." Chance hesitated as if debating with himself about how much he should say. "Not too many people know this, but I own that building."
Nolan knew Chance had money. Of course he had money, or he couldn't hire Nolan in the first place. But Manhattan real estate money? "Representing hot models must pay a lot better than I thought."
"I do all right."
At this hour, the doorman and the guy at the podium usually signed people in, but they recognized Chance and waved him up.
"Do they know you own the building?"
"Actually, they don't. I have a holding company."
Nolan wondered why Chance had told him. Of course. The obvious reason. He wanted to impress his younger date. Either that, or it wasn't even true-- but Nolan's spidey sense told him Chance wasn't lying. He'd spin a story about a celebrity but not about this.
"I don't want to be bothered by maintenance about every little thing when I'm trying to work or just live my life."
"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone you're the king."
Chance's apartment was surprisingly small-- more a large hotel suite than a home. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A treadmill. A king-sized bed. A desk. A tiny wet bar with a mini-fridge and a coffee maker. Less floor space than you'd think. There was a temporary feel to the place, although apparently he'd lived there for years.
"Coffee? Or... I know." Chance waggled a black and red bottle of Tia Maria. "I make a mean espresso martini."
"I'm fine." Nolan's heart was pounding. He didn't need any stimulants on top of Chance's intoxicating presence.
Chance touched his face, turning his chin toward the floor-to-ceiling glass. Both of them gazed out at an infinity of city lights. "Do you want to do this?"
"I... I don't know if it's a good idea. You're a client."
"I know that all too well. I'm tempted to fire you so we can date. But I can't. I really need you to do this job for me."
"We can take things slow. Get to know each other a little better."
Chance slid around to embrace him from behind so they could both look out at the glittery holiday lights of December in Manhattan. Their bodies fit together well, even through clothes, since they were almost exactly the same height.
"Sure. Nice and slow. Nice and slow and easy..."
***
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