It's wonderful to have the rights back to several of my books! I'll be re-releasing them over the next year or two, one at a time, here and there, sprinkled among my new releases.
This story is one that I made sure got back up first. I've always had a tender spot for Life is a Stevie Wonder Song for a few reasons. One is that it's May/December and I am a sucker for that trope. Secondly I adore Steven and Declan, our leading men. They're such a lovely couple, at least I think so!
This book has new cover art, has been reedited, and has a brand new epilogue added just for this re-release. There will be no preorders and you'll only be able to find it in Kindle Unlimited. Release day is April 18th.
Authors know that their muse is a fickle creature. Best-selling spy novelist Stephen Ramsey has been in a hate-hate relationship with his inspiration for months. When Stephen's publisher lays a legal ultimatum upon him, with a rapidly approaching deadline, he knows he must do something to kick-start his creativity or face the unemployment line. His daughter comes up with a possible answer: a summer camp for the creative soul. With nothing to lose, Stephen packs up his laptop, phonograph, and beloved record albums and heads from Greenwich Village to the Catskill Mountains.
There, among a horde of college students attending for extra credits, is Declan Pomeroy, a photographer of fey creatures who is twenty-two years younger than Stephen. The woods are a magical place, and Stephen quickly finds himself falling under the spell of the free-spirited photographer. Confusion wars with desire inside Stephen as he succumbs to the feelings welling up inside. But, sadly, summer camp always has to end. Can a man who has just found himself really leave the person that makes his heart sing?
Add to Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/…/36062350-life-is-a-stevie-wonde…
"You look like you have too much on," Declan announced when I stood in front of him. I glanced down at my attire. Gym shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers sans socks. "How would you feel about doing this nude?" My sight knifed back from my clothes to my guide into the Twilight Zone.
"You’re not naked," I pointed out once I could speak around the knot of desire clogging my throat.
"I usually am, but I figured you’d be far too uptight to not have clothes on, so, I fashioned a makeshift chiton to cover my goodies."
"Okay. Yes, I'm not comfortable with our goodies hanging out." He glanced up at the fat moon over our heads, then sighed dramatically. "I can do no shirt and no shoes, however."
Declan’s gaze returned to me from Madame Luna.
He made a sort of cooing sound then rose to his tiny toes to press his lips to mine. It was a soft peck, our mouths touching for a mere second, but it did things to my perceptions of who Steven Ramsey is that I still cannot fully explain.
"I think I'd like to see you without a shirt," he whispered over my lips.
"What are you doing?" I croaked. He shrugged a shoulder, then dropped back down to stand flat-footed. "Stop it, okay? I'm old enough to be your father."
He smiled then spun around, his bare back gleaming pure white. I wanted to touch his skin, trace the knobs of his spine with my tongue. This whole thing was pure insanity, yet I hurried to strip off my old T-shirt and kick off my sneakers. Declan glanced over his shoulder, smiled again, and then rushed off into the night, the coquette. I followed because what else could I do? Not traipsing after the kid was impossible. The grass was cool and wet under my bare soles. The high whine of a mosquito zipped past my ear. I would be nothing but a massive bug bite in the morning. I walked behind Declan, swatting at the air, hoping I didn’t step on something that would require stitches or a tetanus shot. We stepped into the woods. I debated going back for my shoes.
"We have to be as silent as possible," Declan, standing on my right, whispered.
"Shoes are quiet," I replied, my hand resting on the scraggy bark of an old pine.
"Shoes don’t allow you to touch the earth."
"They also don't allow thorns to penetrate your flesh," I parried. My guide grunted in consternation then set off once again. A million questions bounced around my head as I tenderly placed one foot down then the other. What kind of camera did he use? Was there a special ethereal film for capturing fey? Did I need therapy? Did I just step on a slug?
We walked deeper into the woods. The farther we traveled, the more I wanted to speak up or at least scoff. I was working on a good zinger when I ran into Declan’s bare back. He threw up a hand to silence me. My body tightened from a weird combination of fear and desire.The kid felt wonderful pressed against my chest, his clammy skin resting against mine. I peered over his head, my hand coming to rest on his left hip. Declan leaned back into me just the slightest bit.