One cranky man-child. One snooty artist recluse. Total trouble.
The Infinite Onion by Alice Archer
Publisher: Shine Even If
Release Date: March 31, 2020
Length (Print & Ebook): Print: 388 pages
Subgenre: Contemporary gay romance
Pre-order now: alicearcher.com/book/the-infinite-onion
The truth is harder to hide when someone sharp starts poking around.
Grant Eastbrook hit the ground crawling after his wife kicked him out. Six months later, in Seattle without a job or a place to live, he escapes to the woods of nearby Vashon Island to consider his options. When he’s found sleeping outdoors by a cheerful man who seems bent on irritating him to death, Grant’s plans to resuscitate his life take a peculiar turn.
Oliver Rossi knows how to keep his fears at bay. He’s had years of practice. As a local eccentric and artist, he works from his funky home in the deep woods, where he thinks he has everything he needs. Then he rescues an angry man from a rainy ditch and discovers a present worth fighting the past for.
Amid the buzz of high summer, unwelcome attraction blooms on a playing field of barbs, defenses, and secrets.
I tried to catch Grant’s eyes. Big, dark eyes, but not Bambi-big, and not innocent. I watched him examine my home with a frown and a protective hunch of his shoulders. His greasy black hair stood up in the back. Bits of bright grass hung from the backs of his pant legs. Between his eyes, a worried crease pointed down to an assertive statement of a nose, straight except for a slight bump near the top. He was taller than my six feet by quite a bit, with long legs, and muscles that made me think he did a lot of walking. Dark eyebrows scrunched with concern. His untrusting gaze landed on me.
Whatever Grant had seen as he looked around my home had a different effect on him than it had on Kai.
“What the hell is this place?” The question almost sounded rhetorical, like Grant didn’t need me to respond in order to know the answer, and the answer was that I was a nutjob.
Kai slapped a hand over his mouth and said from behind it, “Uncle Grant, you said hell.”
I nudged Kai’s shoulder with my elbow and whispered, “So did you,” which made him giggle.
To Grant, I said, “You must have put on the wrong pair of glasses this morning, Ophelia, if you can’t recognize heaven when you’re standing right in the middle of it.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“I might,” I said. “Or I might not.” It had been a long time—years—since I’d gotten on anyone’s nerves. Or enjoyed it so much. For some reason, Grant didn’t like me, and that thrilled me. Strangers didn’t often stumble into my corner of Vashon Island. Especially not ill-tempered specimens I yearned to paint pictures of. I hoped Grant and Kai lived on Vashon at least part of the year. Maybe then I could persuade them to visit again.
“Do you want something hot to drink?” I asked.
Grant shook his head, his face hardened in a staunch no.
Ah, well. Maybe it was for the best. The man would be a prickly project for sure.
About Alice Archer:
Alice has questions. Lots of questions. Scheming to put fictional characters through the muck so they can get to a better place helps her heal and find answers. She shares her stories with the hope that others might find some healing too. For decades, Alice has messed about with words professionally, as an editor and writing coach. She also travels a bunch. Her home base is Eugene, Oregon.
Connect with Alice:
Newsletter sign-up: www.subscribepage.com/executivedecision