Cupcake Kissin’ 3 – Alex Ankarr

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Cupcake Kissin’ 3 – Alex Ankarr

He knows, in any case, that old Gertie will almost certainly have left him something, probably something ‘nice’. (Probably something of ‘sentimental value’, gosh darn it. A mass-produced vase she liked especially, or one of her wacky garden ornaments. Not that he doesn’t value those kinds of things. It’s just that a little cold hard cash, in the place of sentiment, would come in handy about now. His family has always valued work, and meritorious achievement, and honest puritanical effort, as well as money. A sight too much, if you ask Caspar. Never mind, though. His extended family admires him. Caspar, working his way through college, all through his first degree and his doctorate! Caspar, such grit, such dedication! Wonderful boy! Too busy admiring him to bung a little cash his way to ease his journey, most of the time. He sighs.)

Will readings are not scintillating, especially when you’re not expecting to be a significant beneficiary. It goes on for a long long time, and in fact he does begin, eventually, to be rather on the verge of dozing off. He’s had a very long journey, a lot of little jobs and responsibilities and almost continuous upheavals to deal with, in the past few days. When Cousin Peter jabs him, sharp and vehement, in the ribs, he’s not altogether certain he was fully conscious at the time.

He gives a great emphatic jerk, in any case, and stretches as unobtrusively as he can possibly manage it. Then, he’s aware that people are turning around to take a look at him. Aunt Margaret is grinning at him, her gums showing around her expensive but badly fitted teeth. Miss Emily of the Canadian branch, and her teenage delinquent adopted daughter, are edging out of their chairs in the second row, to get a gawp. He feels more than a bit self-conscious. ‘Was I snoring?’ he hisses at Cousin Peter. ‘Or anything worse?’

But Peter, fifty-something, shiny-skinned, thin dark hair and a solicitor’s practice of his own that flourishes back home in London, just gives a pointed jerk of his head towards the two lawyers seated and droning at the front of the room. Both of whom appear to be completely focused, themselves, on Caspar, right at this minute. Oh hell, has he been twitching and jerking, like a dog after a rabbit in his sleep? A couple of boyfriends have told him he sometimes does that, when he’s having nightmares…

© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2014

No unauthorised reproductions allowed. All rights reserved to the author. No inspirations for characters drawn from real-life individuals, no resemblance to real individuals intended.

Photo credit: Lyn Whitfield on Flickr, public domain.

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Poem: …dandelion

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pleased with pleb vitality

contempt for hothouse blooms

I was a dandelion, she thought

from under tons of concrete, tons

broke anyway

through a hundred metric tonnes of rock

a smiling flower at the tip

poking through

© Alex Ankarr 2017

Image – Orest Ukrainsky, public domain

If This Ain’t Vegas – Fluffy Gay Romance!

Francis really likes his job in media management. He really likes his boss, Daniel. Okay, maybe he has a tiny – read HUGE – crush on him. Is a business trip to Vegas inevitably doomed to Vegas-type trouble, when they head off to cover a celebrity wedding celebrating newly-legalised Vegas gay marriage, and the reality show it’s a part of?

Cupcake Kissin’ 2 – Alex Ankarr

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Download complete ebook for FREE! at https://www.books2read.com/u/bw8PwO

Cupcake Kissin’ 2 – Alex Ankarr

Funerals are distressing, that’s a given, and Auntie Gertie’s is pretty much a slaughterhouse, emotionally, tears and embraces and howling and big speeches everywhere. The after-show wake is a lurid drunken nightmare for most. Caspar stays sober – for once he’s too upset to want a drink – and spends most of it ferrying over-emotional old sot relatives back to their hotels, one after another all afternoon and evening.

He survives okay, though, gets through it in one piece and shows up for the will reading a couple of days later in Auntie Gertie’s swish L.A. lawyers’ offices. He’s been to a few of these, too. Enough not to get his hopes up and expect much. (He’s a little embarrassed to admit to having hopes of a monetary nature. It seems pretty cold, with Auntie Gertie barely cold and in the ground. But still, it’s human nature just the same, especially when you’re a poor relation to a rich family, and you’re real hardcore stony broke. Not that any of his family, this family, would judge him for it. The rich are matter-of-fact about money. As far as they’re concerned, it’s jolly nice stuff, it’s entirely natural to want some of it, and when you’ve given a relative a jolly good send-off into the great beyond, then the next thing you start to think about is whether you might get some greenbacks out of it. Still, they are all British, even if somewhat transatlantic in some branches of the clan. Old Gertie herself had no use for the rain and greenness of her childhood stamping ground in southern England. She had made her home on the west coast, and refused to shift for the past three decades.)

In any case, he’s a bit subdued at the reading, gives out low-level handshakes and greetings as about a third of the clan assemble, and misses his own ma and dad’s presence, long-gone. As they file into the meeting room for the reading, he chooses a seat well at the back and prepares to zone out. If he does get anything, then someone will elbow him, in the greatest excitement, to make sure that he doesn’t miss it. In any case, his suit is his second-best, after he got mayonnaise on the best one at the wake. (Aunt Flo and her crab and lettuce roll, in trembling liver-spotted hands. Thanks, Aunt Flo!) He doesn’t much want to put it on show. It’s not as if his very best show-piece suit was anything to write home about. And this one is distinctly ratty.

© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2014

No unauthorised reproductions allowed. All rights reserved to the author. No inspirations for characters drawn from real-life individuals, no resemblance to real individuals intended.

Photo credit: duncan johnston under Creative Commons licence modified for book cover use.

 

Poem: …matrimony and the man II

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Doves shot upwards

Snowfall in reverse

Confetti burst

the groom, and his groom

fine handsome catch

every bit his match

waiting on a promise,

all dolled up and fine

forever be mine

Vows are made

Doves are flown

Fizz all downed

Rings exchanged

Dance in dreams

flowergirl screams

(Too much cake. Allowed a sip of fizz
Parents, parents, why d’you do this?)

hand in hand and

husbands now

one last vow

wedding day done

cake’s crumbs,

Listen, grooms:

It begins now.

© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2017

Image – Ludovic Bertron via Creative Commons Licence

A Bookstore, A Werewolf & A Full Moon – Paranormal Gay Romance!

Francis is shy, bookish, a little bit nerdy and he owns a bookstore. He’s also a werewolf. A sub werewolf who goes into periodic sexual heat. As he goes into a surprise heat at the end of the business day, he gets a visit from a very good client, Jonas Greyashe: rich, amorously interested and a dominant werewolf…

Cupcake Kissin’ 1 – Alex Ankarr

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Download complete ebook for FREE! at https://www.books2read.com/u/bw8PwO

Cupcake Kissin’ 1 – Alex Ankarr

So Caspar is broke, and he can’t find a decent engineering internship to save his life in Winnipeg, still less a paying entry-level position, when he gets the call. It sobers him up a bit, puts his troubles quite effectively into perspective. It’s a great-uncle who detests the phone – old Rupert, the one with the dodgy hip and the short temper, and an ineffective hearing aid. So the old dodderer uses the detested new-fangled device merely to transmit the required information, not for idle chit-chat. And he uses it only when absolutely required so to do, which is how Caspar knows it’s pretty damn serious, even as he checks out the caller ID and takes the call.

And when he closes the call, if he’d had a smile on his face it would have been thoroughly wiped off. ‘Oh, Unka Rupes. I am so sorry. Yes, yes, I know you want to get off the line, I’m sorry, I’ll let you go. Yes, I’ll be in Los Angeles for the reading of the will, I promise. No, nothing else urgent to keep me here. No, I have the airfare. No, it’s okay, I’ve got it, Unka. No. Well, yes, things are a bit tight. Oh God, would you? I will honestly pay you back, Unka. I will, no, I will, I swear… Yes. I’ll see you there, bye, bye…’

And when the line buzzes empty and he puts the phone down, it’s raining outside of his ratty little studio apartment window. It’s appropriate, because he might conceivably be crying just a tiny little bit. His dear old great-aunt, Auntie Gertie, the old flibbertigibbet, the one who was light of morals and high of heels in her youth, the scandal and the despair of their blue-blooded old Surrey family, she’s died suddenly. A nasty lung infection, with her too old and dissipated to fight it off.

Out of all of his family, darling old Gertie, the shameless old girl, was the first to accept and embrace his homosexuality, attend the odd parade linked arm in arm with him and his buddies, insist on going clubbing with them, dancing and drinking far beyond their own tolerances. Now she’s gone.

He sighs and wipes his face, though. There’s a funeral to think of, a will reading, all the tiresome but necessary business of death to get through, for the sake of the rest of the family. And thank God old Rupes has a generous, irritable old heart, and insisted on lending Caspar the money for the fare, he thinks. That’s the trouble with being part of an old money family, where the money is very unevenly distributed. You find yourself perpetually dependent on the generosity of others, hanging in the wind waiting to see if they’ll rescue you. Which, to be fair, they generally do, in his clan. But that airfare would have wiped him out, along with a hotel room and the rest of it. Christ, he’s in dire straits. What he needs is a decent job, something to justify all the expense of his engineering training… (And even with his Canadian uni sweet-deal foreign-national fees, and being sponsored part-way through his studies by a now-defunct company with no handy jobs, they’d been a pretty penny.)

He needs a lucky break. That’s what he needs. A death in the family, that isn’t it. But he knows his duty, and he gets back on the phone and starts making bookings.

***

© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2014

No unauthorised reproductions allowed. All rights reserved to the author. No inspirations for characters drawn from real-life individuals, no resemblance to real individuals intended.

Photo credit: Lyn Whitfield on Flickr, public domain.

Love Spells & Personal Hells – Fluffy Gay Romance!

Tenn is a trainee warlock, but he’s pretty good, close to his Masters in the subject in fact. Honestly, he’s pretty good! So how on earth he manages to accidentally, drunkenly put a love spell on the gorgeous guy Connor in the apartment below him is a mystery… And one he has to set right, if only the supernaturally enamoured Connor will let him!

Cupcake Kissin’ – SuperSweet & Fluffy Gay Romance!

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Buy Cupcake Kissin’ by Alex Ankarr!

Caspar is a new post-grad with no money, no job, no boyfriend and no options. Then his sweet old aunt Gertie leaves him a cupcake bakery in her will. It’s based in LA, with a starry clientele, in the shape of gorgeous soap star Mack – who has a snooty academic boyfriend, but seems to like Caspar more than he should. Has Caspar inherited more than he bargained for?

 

image – Dana Merrick https://www.flickr.com/photos/sinatra/ licence https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/