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Thursday, September 18, 2014

Blog Tour: Guest Post & Giveaway: Fever Pitch by Heidi Cullinan

Hello Lovelies!!! We have the fabulous Heidi Cullinan hanging out today and she's giving us some details about the upcoming books in the Love Lessons Series. If you haven't read "Love Lessons", you need to. I LOVE this series and can't wait for what's coming! I jumped at the chance to review FEVER PITCH and to have Heidi hang out with us today!! 

Heidi, welcome to Enchantress Of Books! 

What’s Next in the Love Lessons Series (Hint: There’s a Lot)

When I wrote Love Lessons, originally it was meant to be a standalone novel. I admit in my initial imaginings I wanted Hope University to be a backdrop I used more often, but then Walter Lucas tore it apart, and they both up and left, so I figured, one book wonder. No problem. Then I tried to write Fever Pitch, set in eastern Iowa, and all of a sudden Walter Lucas waltzed in and messed everything up for me once again.  So I moved the series to east of the Twin Cities, and here we are. Book two, which I now know is book two of many more.

I can’t talk too much about individual books without giving things away, though I've spilled some details to people who have read book two. Basically you meet at least one of every protagonist pairing in book two, or you've already met them.  I’ll give vague spoilers for book three, but only in that I tell you who will get together. I’m pretty sure they’re evident on the page, but what do I know.

If you want to remain absolutely virgin about what comes next, don’t read on. If you want a general gist, sally forth, soldier.

Book Three: Lonely Hearts, available summer 2015. This is Elijah and Baz’s story. If you haven’t read Fever Pitch yet, you have no idea who I’m talking about. Once you’ve read it, if I did my job right, hearing this will make you sigh in relief. I can’t tell you any of the plot, but I will tell you it picks up pretty much the exact second Fever Pitch ends. You’re welcome.

Book Four: No title, probably out 2016. By the end of Fever Pitch you will know both the protagonists for this story, but I’m not telling you who right now. I will, however, say this will be my first lesbian romance.

Book Five (or Six?): No title, probably out late 2016 or early 2017. I know who the protagonists are, but I’m not spilling anything. This will be a romance between a straight hero and a transitioning trans heroine.

Book Something, Maybe: When or if it comes out, I have no idea. Here’s the thing: there’s a couple in this series I love to think about. You meet them in book two, but they aren’t a couple. I know absolutely they end up together and get married. The problem is I don’t know yet if they have standalone conflict or if they fold in behind the scenes of somebody else’s story. They might be a novella only. Or they might be a whole novel. Who knows. Whatever they are, they are, to my great surprise, a straight couple.

The thing to remember about this list is it is, outside of book three which is sold and on deadline, all kinds of tentative. I have to write and sell these things. I have to keep up with my already packed schedule of other novels. My greatest strength and my greatest weakness is ideas are thick on the ground, but time is never on my side. I’m taking next year off from conventions, except possibly RWA nationals, so I can buckle down and really produce. Now that I have a corner of my health back, I intend to keep gaining ground so I can stand to sit at my desk and work like a dog. Because I really do love working, especially on this series. I love new adult, college and post-college novels so much. I don’t know quite why, but I feel like I could write fifty of these.

I worry a little because these are the books spawned out of book two alone—god knows what will happen when I get to book four and other people show up. We’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, though.

In the meantime, when someone says “will there be more Love Lessons books?” I will direct them to this post. The short answer is yes. The long answer is yessssssss.

Follow the rest of the blog tour for more guest posts, excerpts, and chances to win a copy of the novel.

I, for one, CANNNOT WAIT!! Who else is excited that Elijah and Baz’s story is next?
Find out more bout Fever Pitch below. Make sure to add it to your Goodreads WANT TO READ SHELF and don't forget to enter the giveaway!!

Fever Pitch
(Love Lesson Series, Bk #1)
By Heidi Cullinan


Sometimes you have to play love by ear.

Aaron Seavers is a pathetic mess, and he knows it. He lives in terror of incurring his father’s wrath and disappointing his mother, and he can’t stop dithering about where to go to college—with fall term only weeks away. Ditched by a friend at a miserable summer farewell party, all he can do is get drunk in the laundry room and regret he was ever born. Until a geeky-cute classmate lifts his spirits, leaving him confident of two things: his sexual orientation, and where he’s headed to school.

Giles Mulder can’t wait to get the hell out of Oak Grove, Minnesota, and off to college, where he plans to play his violin and figure out what he wants to be when he grows up. But when Aaron appears on campus, memories of hometown hazing threaten what he’d hoped would be his haven. As the semester wears on, their attraction crescendos from double-cautious to a rich, swelling chord. But if more than one set of controlling parents have their way, the music of their love could come to a shattering end.

Warning: Contains showmances, bad parenting, Walter Lucas, and a cappella.

Available for purchase at 



Chapter One

On his eighteenth birthday, Aaron Seavers navigated the sea of college brochures scattered across his comforter, searching for a future capable of pleasing his father without crushing his own soul. He was pretty sure he’d have better luck if he trekked out to the state park and hunted a unicorn.
It was June twenty-first. He’d graduated over a month ago. There were only eight weeks until most universities opened their doors to freshmen, and Aaron still hadn’t picked a school. His father was furious with him, which wasn’t anything new, but this time Aaron couldn’t blame him.
In twenty-four hours, Aaron would be at his dad’s condo in Eden Prairie for the rest of the summer. That was when Jim Seavers would find out Aaron still hadn’t picked a school, and he’d follow through on his threat from the week before to pick it himself. Which would mean Aaron would attend the most elite, prestigious university to be had at the last minute—somewhere far from Minnesota.
Aaron wrenched himself out of melancholy and returned to his task, but futility washed over him immediately. How was he supposed to choose when they were all the same? Each flyer used strong, pleasing colors and elegant fonts. Each advertisement boasted photos of clean-cut, smiling, racially balanced students happy with their secondary-education choices. They held up sports equipment and musical instruments and other symbols of the school’s extracurricular activities. All the brochures touted the same lures of happiness and success—using different buzzwords, but they were all variations on a theme.
Come to our school. We can give you the perfect future.
If Aaron could believe for a minute their promises were true, he’d have signed up six months ago. The same problem he’d faced then, however, haunted him now. How was he supposed to pick a school when he didn’t know what it was he wanted to do with his life? How could he take a stand against the future his father wanted for him if he couldn’t think of an alternative?
How was he supposed to be happy if he couldn’t figure out what would make him love his life?
Beside him on the bed his phone buzzed. Funny how that made his heart leap, though it had been a year since getting a text had meant anything. Apparently his heart was a sappy idiot.
The text was from Colton. You up to par-tay for your birthday?
Colton remembered it was Aaron’s birthday, which was more than Aaron expected. Aaron ran his thumb down the smooth side of the smartphone’s case, trying to decide how to reply. He didn’t exactly like Colton, and he was busy—but it was his birthday. His eighteenth birthday.
Another text came through. Catherine invited half the school. We’ll be neck-deep in geeks, but lotsa chicks. Let’s get laid.
Rolling his eyes, Aaron tossed the phone onto his pillow. That was why Colton invited him out. Girls swarmed them when they went out together, but since Aaron never wanted anything to do with them, Colton got, as he put it, his pick of the litter. Usually Aaron glommed on to the quietest female and simply chatted, but sometimes he had to make out, which always made him nervous. Colton disappeared first chance he got with the hottest girl in the herd. Sometimes more than one girl.
Yeah, totally how Aaron wanted to spend his birthday.
Of course, Colton could get him alcohol.
A knock on the door sounded as Aaron’s mom stuck her head in. “Hi, sweetie.”
Aaron tossed the phone away from him. “Hey, Mom.”
Pushing the door open wider, Beth Seavers nodded at the mess on her son’s bed. “Back at it, I see.”
“Yeah.” Selecting a flyer at random, Aaron began to flip through the pages. “I wish I knew which ones will still let me in this late.”
“Your father will take care of it.” She leaned on the doorframe, pulling her cardigan closer to her body. It was fluffy pink cashmere, but she huddled as if she was cold, her expression hollow as she spoke of her ex-husband. “Do what he says, and everything will be fine.”
Aaron pursed his lips and tossed the brochure into the mess. “I wish I could think of something to major in that he’d say was okay. There’s got to be something I’ll like at least a little.”
“You’ll think of a major once you’re there.” Beth’s expression turned wistful. “Maybe you should play some piano to clear your head. You always told me it helped you think.”
Yeah, it used to. Glancing at his dusty keyboard in the corner of the room, Aaron swallowed the lump in his throat. “Piano isn’t part of a future Dad would accept.”
“Of course not. But even he would say you should take time to relax and unwind.”
Aaron’s gaze slid to his phone. The home screen was lit up, displaying teasers of more texts from Colton. “There’s a party tonight, but I figured I should get this college thing sorted out instead.”
“You should go. Be with your friends. It is your birthday.”
Friends. That was funny. Still, Aaron picked up the phone and thumbed through the most recent texts. He didn’t know this Catherine girl, but that wasn’t surprising. He’d moved to Oak Grove from Eden Prairie less than a year ago—his dad had taken a long-term case in California, and his mom insisted she couldn’t wait any longer to move near her sister. Given the social disaster at his old school after Tanner, Aaron hadn’t put up a fight over switching at the start of his senior year…but the consequence was he knew next to no one. Colton and the people he hung out with were all Aaron had. Football players and cheerleaders—so outside Aaron’s life in Eden Prairie. He’d been eager to be part of the in-crowd for once, but the result was far different than he’d anticipated. Who knew popular people were this lonely?
Aaron tossed the phone down. “I can’t let him show up tomorrow without making a choice.”
“Then make one. They all look nice. Pick one and call it a night.”
“It’s not so simple. He’ll want to know why I picked it, what I want to major in, and I don’t know.”
She huddled deeper into her sweater, forehead creasing and marring her pretty features. “I need to lie down, honey. I’m getting a migraine.” She forced a smile. “Let me know if you decide to go out, okay?”
Aaron watched her go, buttoning down his hurt. Why should he expect her to help him? She never did.
Fool him, he never stopped hoping.
On the bed beside him, his phone buzzed, this time in the steady pattern indicating it was ringing. Stifling a sigh, Aaron answered. “Hey, Colton.”
“Why don’t you answer your texts, buttfuck?” Colton laughed like he’d made a funny joke instead of calling Aaron a name. “I’m coming over in a half hour, and we’ll head over to Catherine’s.”
“Sure.” Aaron flicked a nearby brochure with his finger. “Can we eat first, though?”
“I could eat. Where do you want to go, pizza? How about Lenny’s?”
Aaron pulled a face. “God no. Let’s go to Zebra’s.”
“All the way to Anoka?”
It was fifteen minutes away, twenty with traffic. Aaron thought about caving, but he really hated Lenny’s, and anyway, it was his birthday. “Yes. If gas is a problem, I’ll pay.”
“Hell no, I’m just lazy. I’ll be by in a bit.”
Aaron made no effort to hurry getting himself together—half an hour in Colton time meant forty minutes. He’d call saying he’d gotten caught up in something at that point and would be by in fifteen, which would stretch into another hour before Colton appeared at the door. Aaron wrestled with the brochures some more, thinking he’d pick one and get it done before going off to get smashed, but he was no more able to make a choice now than ever.
Giving up, he pushed off the bed and headed for his shower.
A Keane song wormed into his head, soothing his nerves, and by the time he got out, he was humming the chorus to “Bend and Break”. Maybe he’d have fun at the party. Maybe he could make a friend here, finally. He was about to be gone for the summer, but all he needed was someone for the night, someone he could feel good with on his birthday. That was all he asked for. One good night.
Aaron smiled to himself as he rooted through his closet to find a shirt, singing now, his chest warm and buzzing from the reverberations of his vocal cords. He might meet someone. Anything could happen at a party.
He saw the T-shirt he wanted at the back of his closet and tugged it free of a hanger. A box on the shelf behind it got caught in the struggle and tumbled out onto the floor of the closet, spilling papers and photos into the bedroom. As Aaron bent to put it to rights, he saw the half-finished score full of Tanner’s notes mingled with a photo of the two of them pressed together and laughing amid other band members.
Aaron’s bubble of happiness burst, ushering the sludgy, cold feelings back in.
Shoving the box out of sight, Aaron tugged the shirt over his head and stepped into a random pair of jeans. No more memories. Tanner was done. Music was done. He had to think of the future now. He’d pick a school, any school, and he’d make a new start somewhere. Any-fucking-where.
He’d pull a college at random out of a hat and call it good. Go out with Colton and drink until the pain stopped.
By the time Colton called to say he was running late, Aaron had removed two northern Iowa colleges. When he returned from getting some groceries for his mom, though, he saw them on his desk and put them back in the pile. After spying one he’d forgotten about under the bed, he put it up with the others. He found two new ones in the mail.
Instead of making a choice, he’d added three more options.
Aaron curled up on his bed, not needing his father to tell him he was a failure.
When Colton arrived an hour and a half late, Aaron was in a foul, bitter mood. Colton, of course, didn’t notice.
“Sorry, man, lost track of time. Probably too late to go to Zebra’s now.”
“Whatever.” Aaron sank into the passenger seat and leaned his elbow on the door so he could press his fingertips to his temple. “Take me to the fucking alcohol.”
Colton laughed and put the car into gear. “That’s my boy.”
Aaron stared out the window, letting his vision go out of focus so the landscape could blur, wishing the chaos inside him could do the same.
“Happy birthday, idiot,” he whispered to himself, and shut down everything in his head except the promise of getting rip-roaring, fantastically drunk.

Giles Mulder couldn’t wait to get the hell out of Oak Grove, Minnesota.
The Alvis-Henning school district had, quite literally, tried to kill him. Giles had been beaten up four times, two episodes requiring trips to the emergency room, and one of those occurrences had been in middle school. Giles knew not one but two of the infamous gay bullying and suicide victims who had put A-H in the national consciousness for two and a half minutes. He could have watered the football field with the tears of rage and hurt he’d shed until he’d learned how to claim the space in his own head.
“This will make you stronger,” his mother told him. “Anything that doesn’t beat you only teaches you the world has to work harder to destroy you.” Vanessa Mulder’s words were sage and she repeated them often, but usually with gritted teeth and a countenance belying the truth of what she really wanted—to get a baseball bat and beat heads. She did what she could to mitigate Giles’s hazing, and after the second emergency room trip, she visited the Alvis-Henning school board with a lawyer, at which point Giles received a fat settlement check. After that, the physical attacks had ratcheted down to scrapes and bruises on their worst days.
Of course the emotional digs and derogatory comments only increased.
Dr. Tim Mulder, ever the mild-mannered pediatrician, took a subtler approach than his wife. While Vanessa swallowed her rage, Dr. Mulder held his son’s hands and spoke quiet reassurances. “The people bullying you don’t define you, Giles. Only you get to do that. You can’t stop them from making negative comments, but you get to decide what you let affect you and how you reply. So long as you don’t let their words and actions infect how you see yourself, you win. If you can hold on, I promise you someday you’ll look back on these dark days and be proud of how you didn’t let them tear you down from the beautiful, wonderful life you deserve.”
Giles knew his father hadn’t meant to emphasize someday, that his intention hadn’t been to make Giles wait to fully live his life, but the only way Giles found peace was by accepting that truth. His life sucked rancid ass right now, but someday he would not go to A-Hell. Someday he would not live in fear of being beaten up and stuffed in the garbage can in the locker room. Someday he wouldn’t trick closet cases and sexually fucked-up young men only to have them haze him in the hallways afterward, desperate for no one ever to find out what they’d done with Giles. Someday Giles would have a real boyfriend and a real life.
Someday was so fucking close Giles got hard thinking about it.
In fifty-five days he would leave Oak Grove and descend into the sanitized liberal, Lutheran cocoon of Saint Timothy College. He would spend each one of the 1,320 hours between himself and freedom holed up in his bedroom playing Xbox. He would shop for school supplies and Facebook message his roommate-to-be. He would drool all over the looming face of someday until he could hold it in his arms and call it his right fucking now.
Giles did all this—except somehow, on the second-to-last weekend in June, he ended up back in the belly of the high school beast. All because he couldn’t say no to Mina.
She twitched in eagerness, the flip-flop-whish of her shiny, board-straight black hair swishing against the passenger seat punctuated by high-pitched squeals as Giles drove them to Catherine Croix’s why can’t we all just get along goodbye party.
Ohmygod.” Mina held up her phone. “Lisa texted me, and Eric Campf is totally going to be there. With God as my witness, I’m getting him drunk and sticking my hand down his pants.”
Giles thought about the last time he’d seen Eric Campf—on his knees in the back of the church basement, enthusiastically blowing Giles. As usual, though, Giles swallowed the truth and let Mina have her delusions. She never did anything about her crushes anyway—no way was her hand going anywhere near Eric’s waistband. “I hope you’re ready to leave early, because I fully expect to blow this Popsicle stand within the hour.”
Mina swatted his arm. “Come on. You haven’t even parked the car.”
“I know what will happen. I’ll be shunned or mocked or ignored. If I get drunk, I’ll get beat up behind the garbage cans.” He turned down the street leading to Catherine’s house. “If I stay sober, I’ll sit in a corner and think about how much I hate everyone. I don’t know why I let you talk me into coming.”
“Why don’t you stay sober, not sit in a corner, and talk to people instead? They don’t all treat you like crap. I don’t.”
Giles pursed his lips and didn’t answer, because Mina couldn’t understand. Straight, pretty, adopted Korean-American Mina hadn’t had anyone so much as raise their voice to her in class. She had no means to comprehend that Giles’s remark about the garbage cans wasn’t just another wisecrack. She had only the vaguest idea of the reality he’d lived at A-Hell—and he had no intention of reading her in on the deep cover of his life now.
Mina sighed. “Fine. Leave when you need to. Lisa said she’d give me a ride back, because she warned me you’d do this. Except I wish you’d stop writing people off before they have a chance to surprise you.”
“Tell you what, as soon as we get to Saint Timothy, I’m all over making new friends. I’ll be first in line.”
“You shut too many people out. How do you know you haven’t missed someone amazing right here at home because you decided they were an ass? How do you know you won’t do the exact same thing at Saint Timothy? College isn’t going to be that much different than high school.”
Jesus, it had damn well better be, or Giles was jumping off the first cliff he found. “Fine. I’ll talk to at least one person at Catherine’s party. Happy?”
“It’s you who needs to be happy.”
“You have got to stop watching Dr. Phil.”
She straightened in her seat and grinned. “Look at all this. How are they all fitting into her house?”
Fifty cars at least lined Morningstar Lane, and it took Giles ten minutes to find a place to park that wasn’t in some ominous dark shadow. It wasn’t crime he worried about, not in this neighborhood, but drunken revelers looking to play Kick the Fag. He managed a reasonably secure space on a side street, and they made their way to the house, Mina chattering nonstop about how amazing the party would be.
Giles hunkered in silence, hating the world.
Once they got inside, Mina attached herself to her girlfriends, and Giles stood against the wall not far from them, taking stock of the room. The party was an impressive cross-section of Alvis-Henning. A decent number of the popular kids had put in an appearance, but there were plenty of band geeks and fringe riders. A few of the totally socially ostracized had dared to come and see if attending a party might increase their clout, but not many. This was the royalty allowing the commoners to pretend for a day, Queen Catherine of Nice presiding.
Mina did her best to include Giles in her conversations, and as promised he conversed with her friends for several minutes, mostly to a girl he sort of knew from orchestra, asking about her plans for the fall. It wasn’t long, however, before he wandered off, determined to begin his exit.
He didn’t want to chitchat with any of these people, and none of them wanted to talk to him. The popular girls reminded him without words that if he did bat for their team, they wouldn’t let him play. The fringe girls waved eagerly and made comments about how they should hang out and do makeovers or something equally wrenched from stereotype—or they regarded him with pity.
God, but Giles hoped Mina was wrong about Saint Timothy not being any different. Intellectually he knew college wouldn’t totally be the magic land of sunshine his heart wanted it to be, but it had to at least not be this slog through hell. No way everything would be exactly the same.
It had to get better. He was owed some goddamned better.
Giles made a circuit of the party, telling himself this was the last time to play the loser, the absolute end of standing outside everyone else, of being the one who couldn’t connect, who was mocked or ridiculed or shunted off to the side unless someone felt like slumming with the gay. In fact, this would be the last time his sexuality was the lens through which he was viewed.
He was done pretending to enjoy himself at this party. See, Mina? It was a bad idea to try and fit in at A-H.
Unfortunately, as soon as he decided to leave, Colton Almstet climbed onto a coffee table and began his performing-monkey routine.
Giles hung back, trying to read the scene. Colton wasn’t the one who had punched Giles so hard he lost his front teeth in tenth grade, but he’d stood by and laughed. By and large the days of Giles having to dodge serious harm were in the past, but it was Colton and his particular breed of asshole Giles still had to watch out for, especially when they were drunk. The half-finished fifth of vodka sloshing in Colton’s hand as he leered over a stoned-out cheerleader falling out of her top told Giles if he so much as blipped onto Colton’s radar, he’d deal with public slurs at best and get followed to his car at worst. While the living room Colton held court in was crowded, there wasn’t quite enough cover to get to the front door. Giles’s height, hair and signature ears didn’t do him any favors for anonymity, either.
Time to find an alternate escape route.
After letting Mina know he was leaving, Giles wove through the kitchen. Exiting out the back was too dangerous—too dark, too much opportunity to interrupt trysting jocks who’d feel honor bound to chase Giles down. He wasn’t sure where else he could go. He considered heading through the main room to the front door, Colton be damned—he could hide behind people, right? He could crouch down, maybe. Of course they’d laugh at him, and he’d be exposed.
How fucked up was it that this was how he had to leave a party full of people who would do no more than avert their gazes when someone publicly called him a fag and offered to shove a beer bottle up his ass? Why couldn’t he go to Mina and confess the truth? Why was her ignorance more important than getting out of harm’s way?
Why did he fucking come here in the first place? Why had he believed, even for a moment, that he could pretend to be normal?
Angry and ashamed, Giles beelined for the back door in the kitchen—and ran headfirst into Eric Campf, who was flocked on either side by linebackers.
Surprised, Giles staggered away, and like the well-honed reflex it was, he bowed his head. He pretended he was meek, to be the geeky, awkward gay kid with the nasal voice who didn’t challenge his betters. Ten minutes after Eric had wiped Giles’s spunk off his chin last week, Giles had worn such a look for him when they returned to the youth room. Giles was supposed to cop that pose now, because this was how the game went down. Giles wasn’t cool. Eric was.
Giles was so fucking tired of playing along. Mina’s warning about college not being different rang in his head too loudly, the party ignored him too completely and Giles felt like burning things down. Fuck Colton and fuck Eric. They could cope with the human being in front of them.
He lifted his head, let his anger bleed out in a bold gaze telling Eric, yeah, Giles remembered that mouth on his cock.
Eric balked, and his friends eyed Giles speculatively. When Eric recovered, his shock morphed into rage. “Who the fuck do you think you are, fag?”
Here we go.
Ducking behind a gaggle of girls giggling over Jell-O shots, Giles tried again for the door, but there were too many people between him and the exit. Even without Colton in the main room, Eric’s buddies had the way blocked off, which meant with the back door inaccessible, Giles had to weave down the hallway and hope to hell there was a side exit or a door with a lock. He was more than ready to settle for the latter. He’d hole up, wait until everyone was too stoned and drunk to give chase, and he’d get the fuck out.
Eric and the linebackers got tangled in the Jell-O-shot girls, who missed the imminent gay bashing and seized an opportunity for flirting. The drunkest of them fulfilled Mina’s wish and got her hand down Eric’s pants, and Giles enjoyed Eric’s abrupt paralysis.
Weaving through the crush into a less-populated hallway, Giles spied a narrow door leading into a laundry room. He hesitated, weighing his options as he glanced over his shoulder and saw his pursuers hadn’t yet come this way. Laundry rooms didn’t usually have locks, but they could be great places to wait. This could also be where they trapped him and came up with something nasty to do to him.
Where else could he go? At this point all he could do was hide here or risk running into them in the main hallway—and get dragged into a room where whatever they did to him would get drowned out by the party noise in the living room. Would his defiance be worth it if it landed him his third ER visit?
Goddamn it, Mina, I’m never listening to you again.
Giles slipped into the laundry room. Shutting the door, he sank against the barrier, sucking in deep breaths of detergent, listening intently for the sound of footfalls in the hall. They came, along with swearing and murmured inquiries of Where did he go? Then, blessedly, the hall went quiet as Giles’s pursuers drifted away.
Except as silence rang in his ears and his eyes adjusted to the low light, Giles realized he wasn’t the only one in the room.
A dark figure huddled in the corner between a basket of folded towels and a pile of sheets waiting to be laundered. One figure, which meant it wasn’t a couple necking, but someone else hiding. Giles squinted in the dark, peering closer, wondering who the hell else could possibly be in here.
His heart skipped a beat as the figure became familiar.
Aaron Seavers. It was Aaron Seavers, Colton’s best bud, hiding in the laundry room with Giles.

About the Author

Heidi Cullinan has always loved a good love story, provided it has a happy ending. She enjoys writing across many genres but loves above all to write happy, romantic endings for LGBT characters because there just aren't enough of those stories out there. When Heidi isn't writing, she enjoys cooking, reading, knitting, listening to music, and watching television with her husband and ten-year-old daughter. Heidi is a vocal advocate for LGBT rights and is proud to be from the first Midwestern state with full marriage equality.

You can stalk, I mean find Heidi here: 



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