Hello friends!

I realized recently that I’ve only ever shared one novel excerpt with you guys, at the very beginning of the blog! It’s from The Silverwing, and if you’re new since then, you can read it here if you’d like.

But I realized it’s high time I did another one! This excerpt is from my second finished novel, Father Cruz. You can see my post where I discuss what it’s all about and where the idea came from here, or you can get a brief overview on the Current Projects page.

This scene features my two love interests, Kellan and Ezra, as they spend a day together from Ezra’s point of view. It’s cute, it’s fun, and a nice little taste of their characters and feelings.

Enjoy!

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Ezra’s phone screen lit up the dark bedroom, buzzing once on his end table.

            Probably just work, Ezra thought as he rolled over, barely conscious. Deal with it tomorrow.

            But his phone vibrated a second time, then a third.

            Fuck. Fine.

            Ezra flipped over, tossing the comforter aside as he stretched his arm out, groping for his phone with half-lidded eyes.

            When he saw the name on the notifications, his eyes snapped open.

            Three texts had come in from Kellan:

            10:35am

Hi. You busy today?

            10:35am

            Got an errand to run. Could use a hand if you’re bored

            10:36am

            I’ll let you drive the truck

            Ezra was up in an instant, flying into the bathroom and cranking the shower on with one hand while he typed with the other.

            10:38am

            What time?

#

            Miss Kline’s rusty F-150 accelerated wearily as Ezra changed gears, merging onto the highway and handling the shifter with the practiced ease of a pilot near retirement.

            “I can’t believe you can actually drive this thing,” Kellan said, shaking his head in amusement. “I killed the engine three times just getting to your place.”

            Ezra looked at him and grinned, then shifted into third. The truck huffed like a smoker of forty years. “My first car was a manual. My dad thought it would ‘build character’.”

            “It’s like this was meant to be,” Kellan said with a sly smile.

            Ezra laughed, sounding a little too forced for his liking. If the Father knew the way Ezra had been thinking of him during their outing the other day, he might not be in such a joking mood.

            He’s a priest. He’s a priest. Ezra repeated the reminder to himself over and over.

            “Hey, I never noticed you had freckles,” Kellan said, and Ezra’s mantra fell apart.

            He forced a smile. “They come out in the summer. I’m surprised you can see them. They’re always really light.”

            “They look good on you,” Kellan said, making Ezra’s stomach turn.

It’s like he’s trying to rile me up, like he knows he’s fucking with me, Ezra thought.

“I never liked mine,” Kellan continued. “They look too dark with my skin tone. Kids in elementary school called them skidmarks.”

            “I’m sorry, that’s shit- I mean- crappy,” Ezra said, blushing.

            Kellan laughed. “I appreciate the effort, but I think God has more to worry about than the occasional swear word. Besides, you’re on a holy mission.” He gestured to the truck’s bed, which was stacked full with crates of donated feminine hygiene products, pregnancy tests, canned foods, and diapers bound for the Rosland Women’s Shelter.

            “Technically, it’s your mission,” Ezra said. “I’m just your chauffer,” he teased, tipping his head up in his best imitation of a snotty limousine driver.

            “Wouldn’t be happening without you,” Kellan said, smiling at Ezra’s quip. “If I was driving, this thing would be stalled halfway down Main Street right now.”

            Ezra put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “You know, here I thought you invited me for my lovely company. Turns out you just wanted my stick skills.”

            Kellan laughed, the sound high and sweet, putting an image in Ezra’s head of syrupy pancakes in the morning.

            Kellan looked at Ezra, grinning still. “I really did want your company, though. Can you imagine if I had to sit in here with Miss Kline all the way to Rosland?”

            Ezra gaped in mockery. “Father Cruz, are you speaking ill of one of your parishioners?”

            Kellan leaned in close, and Ezra smelled the faint scent of cedar and sandalwood from his cologne. His heart flipped a few times.

            “Ezra. You have no idea how bad her breath is.”

#

            The Rosland Women’s Shelter was eternally grateful for the donations, and Ezra had to wave away several women who tried to assist with unloading the truck. The day was hot, and while Father Cruz still wore his collar (I’m on a holy mission, he’d said with a smile), his sportcoat was quickly discarded and tossed into the truck cab while he and Ezra began unloading the boxes.

            Ezra never would’ve thought unloading boxes of diapers and tampons would nearly lead to his undoing, but he’d also never expected to be falling hard for a Catholic priest.

            Kellan had rolled up the sleeves of his light cotton button-up, revealing forearms with appreciable muscle definition, veins poking out near his wrists. That would’ve been enough to send Ezra’s heart racing, but then Kellan had begun to sweat.

            The priest’s deodorant quickly abandoned ship, and circles of perspiration bloomed under his arms. Ezra tried not to stare as he lifted a particularly heavy box starting from a squatting position, his muscled arms bulging and clearly visible under the fabric of the white shirt. A bead of sweat dripped from the side of his hair and down his neck, disappearing down into his shirt.

            God have mercy, Ezra thought as he found himself suddenly very busy with a particular box.

            The administrators of the Women’s Shelter also seemed to have noticed the young, fit priest and his rolled-up sleeves. Ezra watched with a strange mix of emotions as they stared openly when his back was turned, whispering to one another. The sight made his head feel like a tornado- protectiveness, jealousy, vindication, and an aching longing swirled around his thoughts, making it difficult to concentrate.

            Father Cruz could never marry or be with someone, of course (something Ezra constantly had to repeat to himself), but if he could, Ezra felt slightly sick knowing that these women would be potential candidates for a relationship with Kellan. And that there was no way he could ever be.

            Suddenly feeling twenty pounds heavier and terribly wrung out, Ezra carried the last box inside and placed it in the supply room with the rest of the stack. Kellan was there, chatting with one of the admins and smiling. He looked perfectly priest-like, with his charismatic sermon-grin and impeccable white collar.

            Ezra realized with a twisting gut that Kellan had a different smile when it was just the two of them. In the truck, at the bookstore and the coffee shop, it was more relaxed, more sincere. A little more crooked, too, as if he wasn’t worried about how the smile looked, only about what was making him smile. His smile in front of others, at mass, when speaking to his people, was still stunning, but it had the tiniest bit of plasticity to it, something one would only notice if they’d had a chance to see Kellan’s true smile.

            The smile he used with Ezra.

            Does he smile at anyone else like that? Ezra wondered, feeling suddenly sick. He quickly leaned against the wall, hoping to appear nonchalant as Kellan shook the woman’s hand, promising more donations in the future.

            “My parish is very generous. I feel very blessed to be able to help.”

            Back in the truck, its bed now empty save for some stray chunks of wood, Ezra climbed into the driver’s seat and did his best to focus on the good. He had Kellan for the day, and the forty-five minute car ride to look forward to. They could talk about the books they were currently reading, about upcoming film releases they either dreaded or looked forward to.

            But part of Ezra ached at being so close to Kellan, and yet unable to do so much as tell him how he was feeling. Truly feeling.

            The passenger door opened and Kellan swung himself into the seat with a relieved exhale. Ezra did his best to make his face a pleasant mask.

            “Hey. You okay?”

            Shit.

            “Yeah,” Ezra stammered, “Just- just a little touched from the heat, you know. Flannel was a bad wardrobe choice.”

            He couldn’t tell if Kellan believed him or not, but he also didn’t press the issue.

            At the last stoplight before the road turned into the highway, Ezra eased the truck to a stop. Feeling the heat, he reached for the AC knob and turned.

            Nothing came out of the vents.

            “Oh, no,” Ezra muttered.

            “Doesn’t work?”

            “Apparently not. I guess it’s windows down for us.”

            Kellan sighed and pulled his collar off.

            Oh no, is he about to-

            Father Cruz began working at the buttons on his shirt, revealing a white tank top beneath, also damp with sweat.

            The light turned green.

            Ezra didn’t notice. He was mesmerized as Kellan undid the last button and pulled his arms out of the sleeves.

            Kellan’s lean but defined muscles shone with sweat. Freckles adorned the tops of his shoulders, and a little birthmark sat just below his collarbone.

            Shit. Get it together.

            A car honked, startling Ezra. Kellan’s eyes darted forward.

            “Shit,” Ezra said. He hoped, heart racing, that Kellan hadn’t caught him staring.

            Ezra’s muscle memory took over in his panic, gunning the gas without shifting or pressing down on the clutch.

            The truck stalled and died.

            “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ezra said, feeling his face heat up with humiliation. He fumbled with the truck, coaxing the engine back to life as the cars lined up behind began to pull around them.

            Finally, the engine coughed and began to turn on its own again. Ezra couldn’t look at Kellan as he accelerated, operating the stick shift properly this time.

            “Ezra?”

            Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t ask me about it.

            “I’m good. We’re all good. Just forgot how to drive for a second,” Ezra said weakly.

            Ezra turned onto the on-ramp and brought the truck up to highway speed, struggling to rein in his pounding heart as he merged. He could feel sweat gathering at his hairline.

            “Don’t worry about it,” Kellan said, nonchalant. “It’s Miss Kline’s wrath you’re in danger of if you kill this thing. Personally, I might cheer if this thing died.”

            Ezra forced a smile. He pretended to focus on the highway, even though there was almost no traffic.

            “I wanted to thank you again for coming,” Kellan said, rolling down his window with the manual crank. It made the cab a bit loud, but the refreshing breeze immediately began to cool Ezra’s sweat.

            “It’s no problem,” Ezra said. “I’m always glad to help. This kind of thing, I get why people do it. Volunteer and all that. Makes you feel like you’re paying the world back a little.”

            Kellan smiled. That different, warmer, crooked smile Ezra had only seen when they were alone together.

            “I think those ladies really appreciated those goods. Saw them appreciating more than that, too, I think,” Kellan said, winking.

            “What?” Ezra sputtered, almost choking on air.

            “You didn’t see?” Kellan said with a grin. “Natalie was definitely watching you lift those heavy boxes. Getting all sweaty, your hair all messy.”

            Kellan winked again.

            Ezra thought he might vomit.

            “That’s- I don’t think- I seriously doubt that. Nobody’s going to be checking me out when you’re around.” Ezra stopped, clamping his mouth shut.

            Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.

            He chanced a glance at Kellan, whose expression could’ve been anywhere from incredulous to insulted to thoughtful. Ezra couldn’t get a read on it at all. It was suddenly ten thousand degrees in the truck cab.

            He waited for Kellan to speak like a criminal awaiting a death sentence.

            “Are you kidding me?”

            Ezra froze, his gut sinking. He opened his mouth to explain, to apologize-

            “Ezra, you’re a total dreamboat.”

            What?

            Kellan went on. “Dude, that messy hair? Hazel eyes and freckles? That jawline? Trust me, you could get anyone you want looking like that.”

            Ezra’s face must have been utter shock, because Kellan saw it and laughed good-naturedly.

            “Have more confidence, Ezra. You’re a good-looking guy.”

            Ezra had never experienced so many conflicting emotions at once before. Elation, terror, panic, arousal, embarrassment.

            Kellan spared Ezra having to come up with a response. He opened the glovebox, causing a rain of wadded up paper towels to fall onto the passenger floor.

            “Wonder if she’s got anything to listen to in here,” Kellan said. “Hopefully it’s not all gospel stuff.”

            Ezra finally found his words. “You don’t like gospel stuff?”

            Kellan looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

            Ezra swallowed and shook his head. “No. Not at all.”

            Kellan laughed, light and easy. “Me either. I need something with substance. That stuff’s all the same.” He pushed several cassette tapes around. “Nope. Nope. Ooo!”

            He pulled out a tape and showed it to Ezra.

            “Gin Blossoms,” Ezra said, excited. He was glad to have a new conversation topic. “I haven’t listened to them in forever.”

            “It’s a Best Of, too,” Kellan said with glee. He switched the ancient stereo on, popped the tape in and adjusted the volume until the upbeat guitar rhythm filled the truck. The familiar music was like a balm on Ezra’s tortured emotions.

            Then Kellan leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Ezra’s heart felt like it weighed twenty pounds as he watched Kellan’s throat bob up and down, watched his neck pulse in time with his heart.

            And Kellan began to sing along without any shred of self-consciousness, perfectly mimicking the texture of Jesse Valenzuela’s rough but soulful voice. “Anywhere you go, I’ll follow you down,” he sang, and as Ezra tossed and turned under the covers in bed that night, he could think only of Kellan, his freckles, him in that tank top with sweat running down his neck, his voice like a hand cradling his heart.             And eventually Ezra bolted upright in bed, just before three A.M., with the shocking realization that he was, despite everything, falling in love.

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Hope you enjoyed. These characters are like my babies, and I loved spending most of last year with them as I drafted this novel.

Thanks for being along for my ride!

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Monthly Writing Goals Update

14,982 / 20,000 words

Well, that was unfortunate.

I was really on a nice productive roll last week, and I was so excited to keep it going this week.

Then, on Friday morning, I got SUPER sick.

Some crazy stomach bug, likely norovirus, took me out of commission on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. It was NOT fun. Then, the past two days, we’ve had crazy busy days at work, so all of my free time had to go toward completing my eCornell Creative Writing Certificate (that feels AWESOME to finally have done, by the way!). So, while I’ve got almost no progress to report this week, I’m almost back to feeling normal, and now that my course is done, that’s one less thing taking away from my writing time.

Here’s to next week!

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