Author: Rick R. Reed
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: January 13, 2020
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 68300
Genre: Contemporary, LGBT, deep closet, coming out, men with children, virgin, #ownvoices, humorous, EMT
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Synopsis
Randy Kay has the perfect life with his
beautiful wife and adorable son. But Randy’s living a lie, untrue to himself
and everyone who knows him. He’s gay.
Marriage and fatherhood, which he
thought could change him, have failed. He doubts if anyone can love him for who
he really is—especially himself.
With his wife’s blessing, he sets out to
explore the gay world he’s hidden from all his life.
John Walsh, a paramedic with the Chicago
Fire Department, is comfortable in his own skin as a gay man, yet he can never
find someone who shares his desire to create a real relationship, a true
family.
When Randy and John first spy each other
in Chicago’s Boystown, all kinds of alarms go off—some of joy, others of
deep-seated fear.
Randy and John must surmount multiple
hurdles on the journey to a lasting, meaningful love. Will they succeed or will
their chance at love go up in flames, destroyed by missed connections and a
lack of self-acceptance?
Review
Randy loves his wife—he genuinely does but he can no longer
hide deep in the closet he has built around himself. Why does that admission
feel as though he is breaking both their hearts? Yet, with her encouragement
Randy slowly—very slowly begins to explore what living as a gay man entails.
It’s not until his wife can no longer stand the emotional upheaval they are
both having that Randy finds himself alone—although not entirely. He has met a
man who seems to want the same things he does—love, a family, a home. John
knows he may be finally lucky enough to have found a guy who wants him as much
as he desires to be wanted but Randy is freshly out of the closet—what if he
leaves John after he gets on his proverbial feet and accepts who he is and the
life he has always wanted?
Before either John or Randy can really come to terms with
how they feel about the other, something horrible happens and Randy is
blindsided. Needing John more than ever, Randy turns to the man only to find
that this time he may truly be on his own—without anyone to catch him as he
falls.
With tender yet emotionally raw precision, author Rick R.
Reed presents a story that will move you to your core. Unraveling opens a window into not one but two souls who both have
struggled with their self-worth, with their dreams crashing and burning, and
with pain that acts like a refining fire, cleansing both Randy and John of all
the self-loathing they have inside. For John it all stems from the fact that he
can’t seem to find a man who shares his same goals—settling down and building a
home together. He drifts from one empty relationship to countless one night
stands thinking all along that it is he who must be lacking and not the men he
meets. He ends up loathing that he can’t seem to ever win at love.
For poor Randy who has lived a life of fear and denial,
coming out means more than hurting the wife and son he has—it also means
learning to love himself—a person he has hated most of his life. He had so many
good things in his life—how could he be so selfish to want more? It takes
therapy and a great deal of rocky traveling to begin to understand that he has
denied who he is for far too long and he was never genuinely happy living a
life on hold and maintaining a mask that kept the real Randy hidden from the
world.
Together these two men journey on a path that is full of
roadblocks and their own ability to self-sabotage themselves. It will take a
great deal of courage and tenacity for Randy and John to achieve their happy
ever after and there are times when you think it will never come. I loved this
story. It was so genuine. Perhaps it’s because Mr. Reed himself has stated that
it is semi-autobiographical. Perhaps it’s because Randy and John are just your
average guys and that made them all the more accessible and real. Perhaps it’s
because the breakup between Randy and his wife was so wrenching because they
genuinely cared for each other despite their marriage being built on a lie. I
could list numerous reasons why I think this novel will touch every person who
reads it just a little differently but I can assure you it will not leave your
emotions unscathed.
Unraveling will
definitely be on my “best of” list this year. It is a powerful story—one that will
speak to not only those who have hidden their sexuality from the world but to
anyone who has tucked away an important piece of themselves thinking that they
must learn to “fit in”. It is a
beautiful, hopeful story that I highly recommend to you.
Excerpt
Unraveling
Rick R. Reed © 2020
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
RANDY
I have my death all planned out.
Unlike the thirty-two years that have
gone before, I want my passing to be peaceful and free of the discord and pain
I’ve lived with for as long as I can remember. I want it to be easy.
Effortless. Guilt-free.
Whether it’s any of those things remains
to be seen.
I’ve rented this hotel room at a small
boutique hotel off Michigan Avenue. The Crewe House has been standing on this
same ground on Oak Street for at least a hundred years. The rooms are small,
fussy, and charming, with flocked wallpaper, four-poster beds, and claw-foot
tubs and pedestal sinks in their black-and-white bathrooms. It’s charming, and
I deserve something nice to gaze at before I close my eyes for good.
I have some sandalwood-scented candles
lit, and the fragrance is warm, enveloping. Their soft flicker is the only
illumination. Outside, the winter sky darkens early. Dusk’s cobalt blue makes
silhouettes of the water towers, train tracks, and buildings to the west of the
hotel. Near the horizon the sky is a shade of lavender that mesmerizes me,
makes me think of changing my mind. If a sky like this can exist, with its
electric bands of color, maybe the world isn’t such a horrible place.
Maybe I can go on.
No.
What else have I done to ease my passage
into whatever comes next? I have a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, my favorite
champagne, uncorked and resting in a silver ice bucket, filled with melting
ice. A flute stands next to it, waiting.
I’ll wash the sleeping pills down with
the bubbly.
Before getting into bed, I’ll turn on
the cassette I have in my boombox, Abbey Road. I have it queued up to “Golden
Slumbers.”
I’ve been carrying this weight for such
a long time.
I long for smiles.
At last, I’ll undress and stretch out on
the four-poster. I’ll pull the eiderdown duvet loosely over me and close my
eyes.
The plan is I will slowly slip under, my
brain becoming a soft velvety fog, and I’ll simply fall into the arms of a
comforting—and obliterating—slumber.
I will not dream.
It won’t take long.
And I’ll leave a beautiful corpse.
That’s the plan, anyway. Some of my
research into this method of offing myself runs counter to this gentle fantasy,
but I don’t want to consider the downside of overdosing on strong barbiturates.
I want to go to sleep.
I want to forget the impossibility of
being able to become the man I know I should be.
Husband.
Father.
I blink back tears as I sit on the bed,
staring out at the deepening twilight. They don’t deserve this: what you’re
going to leave them with. I know the voice inside, the one that’s always made
me do the right thing, at the expense of my very being, is right. And even
though they don’t deserve it, you know they will hurt, of course they will, but
in the end, they’ll be better off.
Who wants a husband and father who can’t
seem to make himself straight, despite trying therapy, the Catholic Church, the
Buddhist faith, self-help groups, and self-help books. A group of pathetic
married men meeting once a month and thinking they can change. Nothing works.
If I could change, I would.
And since I can’t change, I’m left with
three options:
Accept myself as I am. How can I do
that? I’d be a failure as a husband, a father, a son, a brother. I’d go on
wearing this suffocating mask. I’d continue to live a life that’s essentially a
lie.
Everyone who loves me doesn’t even know
me.
They love a façade, a projection, a
mirage made of wishes, impossible hopes, and self-hatred.
No, acceptance is not an option. It
never was.
Second, I could resist. I could knuckle
down and brace myself against the attractions I feel, the dreams that pop up in
my sleep despite my desperately not wanting them there. I could hold myself
back from falling prey to the temptations I feel on the streets, the subway,
the locker rooms—everywhere I encounter a beautiful man.
The reason I find myself here is because
I can’t resist. Not anymore.
And the third option is simply the one I
have to choose—remove myself from the pain. Remove myself from existing as this
broken thing that God nor man can fix.
Yes, Violet and Henry both will find a
way to move on, and they’ll be happier, more anchored in life without me.
Who needs a gay dad? Or a husband who,
deep down, doesn’t want what his wife has to offer? Or worse, a dad who
contracts the death sentence of AIDS?
Enough of the grim thoughts. They were
not part of my plan. Tonight, I go out peacefully. I’ll shut my eyes and
remember things like my joy six years ago when Henry was born and seeing him
take his first breath. I shouted, “We got a boy!” and fell into the deepest,
most effortless love I’ve ever felt. I’ll remember proposing to Violet when we
were both college sophomores and the thrill when she accepted the cheap
diamond-chips ring I gave her. Things will be okay now, I remember thinking. I
can change.
I really believed that. And I know I
love Violet as best I can.
It’s sad when your best simply isn’t
good enough.
I reach over for the bottle of sleeping
pills on the nightstand. There are thirty of them, and I intend to take them
all, two or three at a time. If it takes the whole bottle of champagne to get
them down, well, things could be worse. No?
I tip the bottle and look at the tablets
against the dark wood, so innocent, yet so lethal.
I’m just reaching for one when there’s a
sudden knock on the door. Loud. Forceful. Urgent.
“Randy? Randy? Open up, please.”
The door knob turns as Violet’s voice
penetrates the heavy wood of the door, making her sound muffled.
I close my eyes. I could ignore her,
hope she goes away.
How did she find out where I was anyway?
She wasn’t supposed to know until she
got the letter, the one neatly folded and an arm’s length away on the
nightstand.
Pounding. “Please!” Violet calls.
I gather the pills, shoving them back in
the bottle, then hide the container in a nightstand drawer.
How will I explain?
I get up, cross the room, and open the
door.
Five weeks ago my boyfriend broke up with me. It all started when i went to summer camp i was trying to contact him but it was not going through. So when I came back from camp I saw him with a young lady kissing in his bed room, I was frustrated and it gave me a sleepless night. I thought he will come back to apologies but he didn't come for almost three week i was really hurt but i thank Dr.Azuka for all he did i met Dr.Azuka during my search at the internet i decided to contact him on his email dr.azukasolutionhome@gmail.com he brought my boyfriend back to me just within 48 hours i am really happy.
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