by Thom Collins
****
Roxanne Maxwell left the stage with her Best Actress award and received the most rapturous applause of the night so far. When she dedicated her award to the victims of Dexter, her voice cracked and the tears that poured from her beautiful eyes were genuine. A palpable wave of emotion ran through the crowd. Many tearful eyes were discreetly wiped amid the applause.
In the third row back, Dale and Matt were on their feet. They cheered and clapped louder than anyone. There were no tears for either of them. They had cried enough this last year. It was behind them. Tonight was a celebration.
“Your turn next,” Matt said, patting his lover’s knee as they sat back down.
“We’ll see,” Dale said modestly. He took nothing for granted. It had been a clean sweep so far, with the show winning every award it was nominated for. Best Actor was all that remained to be announced. He was the bookmakers’ favorite. The industry favorite. He would love to win. But if he didn’t, it would be no big deal. He already had everything he wanted—health, family and the love of his life.
In the last year he had journeyed to heaven and hell and all the way back. The physical injuries Matt and he received were the quickest to heal. Cuts and bruises. A scar down his cheek.
The psychological damage had taken a greater toll. Dealing with the knowledge that Clint had been stalking Matt for months. That he had been killing other men while keeping Matt’s death in reserve, as if it were some kind of grand prize. All those lives destroyed or damaged. Poor Aaron and Conrad. Conner Welsh and Olly Raymond.
Until that night at the house, Dale’s biggest fear was that he would be outed in the press. That small concern had been put in perspective.
They got through the aftermath together—Dale and Matt. Sleepless nights, waking nightmares and agonies. They understood what they’d been through better than any of the doctors or counselors they were sent to see. The doctors weren’t there in the middle of the night.
Slowly things got better. The nights, while not untroubled, become less disturbing.
Matt had gone back to work first. “I need things to return to normal. To deal with other people and their problems, not just my own.”
The prospect of Clint’s trial had hung over them like a black cloud. The crazy fuck had pled not guilty. They would have to relive every awful detail of that experience again, only this time in a courtroom, standing across from the man who’d put them through it.
Matt had been right.
They needed a distraction. They needed to go back to work.
Only Blood Falls on Stone was hardly a distraction. Having almost fallen victim to a serial killer, did he really want to continue playing one?
“Daryl Stone is a character,” Matt had told him over a soul-searching conversation at the dinner table. “He’s not Clint Dexter. And you’re an actor—a bloody good one. You need to finish what you started.”
He was right again.
After an enforced hiatus, production on Blood Falls on Stone picked up three months later. The scar on Dale’s face was obvious. They had offered to hide it with makeup but he had refused. It was part of him. He’d had to accept it. The change to his appearance had made it necessary to re-shoot some of his earlier scenes, but in every way it was a smoother, less troubled production than the original block. There were no tempers, no diva behavior, no protests. The only visitors to the front gates were well-wishers and autograph hunters.
Aaron Oxford’s presence was missed the most, but the producers promised that when the show eventually aired it would do so with a dedication to his memory.
The cloud of Clint’s trial disappeared midway through the shoot when the bastard was found dead in his cell. Dale had felt nothing but relief.
That night in bed, he had held Matt even tighter than usual.
“Being a lawyer, I know I should stand up for justice and the right of every man to have a fair trial,” Matt said, head lying softly on Dale’s chest, “but not him. We know exactly what he did. Prison was too good for him, with its gyms and libraries, not to mention all those vulnerable young men it would give him access to. He would flourish. I’m glad he’s dead.”
“I am too,” Dale had felt no guilt in saying it.
Blood Falls on Stone defied all expectations when it had screened. The overnight viewing figures came in at over nine million. It had been the highest rated show each week for all six episodes. Critics fell over themselves to praise the acting, the writing and the production.
A second series was commissioned before the first run had finished.
It was a smash.
Everything was fine again.
Next weekend would be Matt’s birthday, his thirtieth. He didn’t want a party so they were flying to Malaga, in Spain, to celebrate in the sun. Dale would make sure it was special and spoil him every moment they were away.
The award for leading actor in a drama was next. An expectant hush fell over the audience as the nominations were announced. A show reel of all four actors began to play.
Dale reached for Matt’s hand and drew closer to him as the footage played. With his mouth close to his ear, he asked the question he’d been building to all year. “Will you marry me?”
Matt turned. His eyes were moist in the flickering light of the screen, but his smile was wide. “Yes.”
“The winner is…Dale Zachary.”
The crowd took to their feet to applaud Dale’s victory, unaware that he had already won the greatest prize imaginable—the heart of the man he loved.
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About the Author
Thom Collins is delighted to make his debut as a Pride Publishing author. His love of page turning thrillers began at an early age when his mother caught him reading the latest Jackie Collins book and promptly confiscated it, sparking a life-long love of raunchy novels. He’s been writing for as long as he can remember and recently celebrated his 21st year in print. He has adopted a number of pseudonyms in that time but is probably best known as Thom Wolf, author of gay erotic fiction. His stories featured in dozens of popular gay magazines throughout the 1990s leading to the publication his first novel Words Made Flesh in 2000. In addition to his novels, he has written several novellas and short stories for both print and digital publication.
Closer by Morning is the book he has been building to all that time and marks his debut as a mainstream romantic author. He loves creating strong sexy characters in a world of glamour, excitement and danger. He’s currently working on the first novel in a trilogy of romantic thrillers.
Thom is married and lives in Durham, North East England. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonkbusters, thrillers and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveller with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but since taking his first cruise in 2013 he realised that sailing is the way to go.
Thom Collins loves to hear from readers. You can find contact information, website details and an author profile page at https://www.pride-publishing.com/
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