When I sat down to write this blog, I realized how lucky I am, doing what I love, writing stories. The fact people seem to enjoy them is a bonus, and one I never stop giving thanks for. I couldn’t not write, I feel as if something is missing if I don’t connect with my characters every day, even just for a few minutes. As my long-suffering hubby says, have lap top will travel. (It’s amazing how much you can write on long haul).
Double Jackson, or Jackson for short is one of those stories that hit you, and demand to be told.
I’ve no idea where the idea came from, I just know I woke up one morning and started to write it. It was very definitely character driven, and one of the minor characters, Tina the housekeeper, nagged me all the time I wrote. It was as if she were in the room with me, looking over my shoulder…
Not only does she keep all the characters in the book in their place, she very definitely did it to me as well.
I think it worked.
Jackson Carrick at Tits and Bum Club—gay in more ways than one.
As morning wake up calls go, those damning headlines made for a rude awakening. The renowned actor is a one man guy, thank you very much, so why would a doppelganger set out to discredit him, and more importantly, who is it?
As the mystery unravels and loyalties are tested, Jackson has to rely on his husband, housekeeper, and friends to keep his reputation from swirling down the drain.
Fortunately, Jackson’s husband Collum knows just how to keep his man from worrying. Only one thing to do when you’re stuck inside waiting for news—lots of mind-blowing sex.
(Fizz is Tina’s twin, and Jack’s agent.)
Jack took hold of the phone as if it were a time bomb about to go off. Which, Coll decided it might well be. He stared at Jack, and willed his positive thoughts to be heard as Jack connected the call.
“Hi, Fizz. Hold on, I want to put this on speakerphone so I don’t have to repeat it to Coll.”
“Where are you? No don’t tell me if it’s too much information. Are you at home?” Her voice was loud and tinny in the room. “Do you have today’s paper handy? Is there a clock or three around? Are you decent?” The staccato questions came thick and fast. “Jack?”
Coll’s eyes widened and he shook his head at his lover’s silent question. He had no idea what the inquisition was all about.
“Kitchen? With iPad and phone?” Jack could be as brusque as the next person when it was warranted. “Naked.”
“That’ll do.” Fizz’s voice ebbed and flowed as the signal changed strength. “Well, not the naked bit. Clothed. Plus a paper or two and remember, decently dressed. Do it now and send it to me please. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. About ten minutes, I reckon.” The phone went dead.
Jack looked at Coll, who raised one eyebrow.
“Oh, fuck. Her ten is five. I don’t think she means in our birthday suits.” Jack pinched Coll’s left nipple and rolled of the bed to land on his feet.
“Bastard. I wish I was that agile.” Coll sat up, stretched and then stood up slowly.
“Ha. If you had to do the stuff I do in this series you’d be limber as well. Problem is at the end I’ll be arthritic and stiff as an excited cock everywhere, not just in my dick.” He jogged into the bathroom, and with a wry grin, Coll followed him.
Jack had the shower on full blast. As Coll watched he spun round under the water three times and got out.
“Over to you. I’ll go hunt up iPads and stuff.” Jack rubbed his hands over his hair and snagged a towel as he moved swiftly away.
“Cover up your jiggles then,” Coll called after him. “No cock rock on display.”
A whistle was his reply.
Coll wasn’t under the water much longer than it took to wash any traces of sex from his body, and soak his sweat-slicked hair. He flicked a towel across his body in the hope some water would be caught and absorbed and then pulled on a clean t-shirt before he ignored boxers, and thrust his damp legs into linen trousers and deck shoes. The material of the trousers chafed his skin and he wriggled uncomfortably. Maybe he should have donned underwear after all. The last thing he wanted was a rash on his cock from the nylon thread they used in his clothes.
It was too late. He heard the deep-throated rumble of a powerful motorbike and guessed Fizz had arrived.
Coll took the stairs two at a time. He arrived in the hall as the knocker crashed onto the wood with such force he wouldn’t have been surprised to see it emerge through the panel and an attached hand still thumping away.
He pulled the door open and Fizz almost fell into the foyer.
“Have you taken that picture yet?” she demanded in a breathless voice as she took off her helmet and put it on top of an old-fashioned hat stand.
“Good afternoon, Fizz. Not yet, sorry. How are you, Coll? I’m fine, thank you, Fizz, how are you?” Coll said sarcastically. “Would you like to take a breath before or after you hit me over the head for my tardiness?” The look he received would wither the hardest cock.
“Funny, ha, ha. I need that photo like an hour ago.”
“Difficult.” Jack had entered the hall unnoticed. “We didn’t know you wanted it, and it would have been a TMI photo.”
Fizz made a noise like a particularly upset wildcat. Jack sniggered. “Knickers in a twist, Fizz?”
“No, but your nuts will be in a nutcracker before you can say walnut or pecan if we don’t get stuff sorted out pretty damned quick. Let me take a damned photo.” She snapped the words irritably. “Where?”
“Kitchen. I was setting it up.”
“I don’t want a set up,” Fizz followed Jack into the kitchen, and Coll followed the two if them.
If he was a ladies’ man, then Fizz’s ass would be everything you could ask for. Not for the first time he wondered why she was single with no guy—or woman in sight.
Coll made a beeline for the coffee pot. “Coffee?”
“After.” Fizz didn’t look up from her phone. “Okay, it’s still okay. Get sorted. No, not like that. Who lines up three clocks and props a newspaper up for a selfie for no reason? I want natural.”
“If we’d known an hour ago you could have had au naturel.”
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Thanks for reading,
Love R x