Book Tour & Giveaway ~ The Q by Rick R. Reed

The Q

by Rick R. Reed

Genre: LGBTQ Romance

Step out for a Saturday night at The Q—the small town gay bar in Appalachia where the locals congregate. Whose secret love is revealed? What long-term relationship comes to a crossroad? What revelations come to light? The DJ mixes a soundtrack to inspire dancing, drinking, singing, and falling in (or out) of love.

This pivotal Saturday night at The Q is one its regulars will never forget. Lives irrevocably change. Laugh, shed a tear, and root for folks you’ll come to love and remember long after the last page.

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Chapter 14

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

It was getting on toward ten o’clock when Winslow Birkel got out of his car near the Q. The parking lot was packed so much that Winslow ended up having to grab a spot along the side of the road. It was Saturday night, after all. Winslow could feel as much as hear the vibration of the bass from the dance music playing inside. People drifted in and out of the bar’s entrance at the back, chattering to one another. Wisps of cigarette smoke and maybe even a little weed floated toward him. Winslow paused to breathe in.

He stood, hidden in the shadows, uncertain if he wanted to venture inside. He knew what he’d find— people having fun, dancing, drinking, playing pool and darts, and flirting. Normal stuff. Stuff he should have felt a part of, given his age. And yet, and yet... he couldn’t shake the feeling of separation and isolation that refused to leave him, even when the melody of the anthem, “Everybody Dance Now” reached his ears. Despite being at a gathering spot that had the expressed purpose of bringing people together, Winslow was apart, isolated.

He was only twenty seven, but he felt like he had fifty years on all of those carefree folks, as though he’d left his youth behind when he’d taken up with Chad. He’d surrendered body and soul to the man. And what had he gotten in return? Bruises? Scrapes? Cowering when someone raised a voice?

Someone spoke from behind him. The voice was deep with a velvety quality. “First time?”

He turned to see a gorgeous black man, about the same age as Winslow, a lopsided grin lighting up his face. His hair was twisted into dreadlocks that fell over his shoulders. He wore a simple white tank top and a pair of dark jeans. Even in the dark, there was a twinkle in his eyes, as though the irises had captured the moon’s pale luminescence above them. He’d shoved his hands into his front pockets.

“Hardly.” Winslow smiled. “Just not sure I’m in the mood.”

The grin widened. “I thought maybe we were kindred spirits.”

And that caused Winslow to smile at last. “So?” He cocked his head. “Your first time?”

He nodded. “First time at a gay bar, anyway.” He whispered the words gay and bar even though there

was no one nearby. There was no one within a mile’s radius who would even care for that matter. The guy’s naivete was kind of sweet.

Neither made a move to go inside. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Winslow said. “I haven’t been to the Q in a while, but when I did used to come here a bit more often, the crowd was always nice, welcoming. A lot of friendly faces. Little attitude. Mary Louise, the bartender, is especially sweet. She’s like someone’s mom. But don’t tell her I said that.” Winslow tried to let his posture, his demeanor and, most of all, his smile, convey that this guy had nothing to fear. “I’m Winslow, by the way.”

They shook hands. “That’s a nice name. I’m Darryn.”

“You live in Hopewell?”

Darryn nodded. “Just up the road, honestly. With my ma. She’s a god-fearing Christian woman—her

words, not mine—and has been cursing this place as long as I can remember. Her Baptist roots tell her it’s a hotbed of sin, a place where perverts and sodomites gather.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that was both disarming and charming.

Winslow laughed. “If you’re lucky.”

Winslow moved the toe of his tennis shoe around in the gravel and then looked up and said

 something uncharacteristic for his shy self. “Tell you what, come inside with me and I’ll buy you your first drink in a gay bar. You’ll always remember me for that.”

Darryn didn’t seem to need to ponder. “Okay.”

And Winslow started toward the door. Just as he was about to open it, Darryn said, “Wait.” Winslow turned.

“I’m not ready.”

“What do you mean? You look fine.” And he did—there was something unaware in this guy, as

though he was oblivious to his good bone structure, his broad shoulders, flat stomach, and endearing smile.

And his lack of awareness made him all the more attractive.

“I didn’t mean how I look. I just don’t know if I’m ready for this step.”

Winslow had to resist the urge to tell him how adorable his reluctance was. He could remember being

seventeen—with his badly-faked ID—coming to the Q for the first time, ten years ago. He was shocked they’d let him in. That night, he’d gotten drunk on sloe gin fizzes and had his first—and worst ever— hangover the next day. Much of that night was still a blank in his memory. For example, he was ashamed and embarrassed that he had no idea to this day how he managed to get home and between his own sheets that night. At least he hadn’t wound up in some stranger’s bed.

He realized he might have made a mistake when sizing Darryn up. “How old are you, anyway?”

“I’m old enough to get in,” Darryn answered, sounding defensive. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t even know how to get a fake ID, even if I wanted one.”

“I didn’t mean that. I just assumed you were about the same age as I am, twenty seven, but maybe I guessed wrong?”

Darryn chuckled. “I just turned twenty-one.”

Winslow cocked his head, “Oh? When?”

Darryn cast his gaze downward, smiling shyly. “Today.”

Winslow sucked in a breath. “Oh my god. It’s your birthday! Your twenty-first! Happy birthday!” He

laughed out of sheer delight. “Now, you have to let me buy you that drink.”

Darryn stood still, as though frozen to the ground.

“Come on,” Winslow coaxed. “We can go in, have a cocktail or a beer, and check things out. And if

you don’t like it? We can leave. No problem, no pressure.” He quickly corrected himself. “Or, rather, you can leave.” Winslow smiled. “The we was awfully presumptive on my part.” Winslow realized, without warning, that he wanted there to be a we, even if it was only as something to hold on to, a life preserver against a dark rising tide. Even if it was only for an hour or two.

“Well, okay. But just one. I’m not much of a drinker.”

Winslow opened the door for Darryn and watched him go in first. Once the bouncer checked their IDs, they headed toward the bar.

Winslow asked, “What are we drinking, birthday boy?” He’s almost forgotten Chad and that was actually wonderful. Oblivion could be a very effective pain medication. But like all pain medications, it was important that one not overdo it.

Darryn didn’t looked embarrassed in the least as he wondered, “Do you think this Mary Louise can whip up a sloe gin fizz?”

Winslow smiled broader to conceal the rumbling in his tummy.

Real Men. True Love.

Rick R. Reed draws inspiration from the lives of gay men to craft stories that quicken the heartbeat, engage emotions, and keep the pages turning. Although he dabbles in horror, dark suspense, and comedy, his attention always returns to the power of love. He’s the award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction and is forever at work on yet another book. Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint...” You can find him at www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com . Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA with his beloved husband.

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

$20 Amazon giftcard,

My Lambda Literary Award 2020 Finalist, BLUE UMBRELLA SKY in ebook

- 1 winner each

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