Volley BallsSometimes two alpha males are way better than none!
Despite just getting out of an abusive relationship with an asshole alpha, David Underwood’s wandering glance lands on two hot members of the Australian volleyball team on Laguna Beach and gets him harassed again. Still, when the delicious Gareth Marshall proves his interest by coming out to his team, David succumbs to his attraction. But Gareth’s volleyball partner, Edge, who’s equally hot, makes the lovers’ lives miserable.
For Gareth, a lifetime of hiding his orientation—and his attraction—from his best friend, Edge, as well as everyone else around him, adds up to hurt and frustration. David’s the first man to ever compete with Edge for Gareth’s passion. But Edge has secrets of his own, and David’s ex-lover will never be happy without David under his fist. With everything stacked against him, can a gay Laguna man find happiness with an alpha male–or two?
Published March 30, 2020
Tara Lain Books
What People Are Saying About Volley Balls
Volley Balls is a quick, but highly addictive and super steamy read that I greatly recommend you get. Then,
Volley Balls stayed true to its title in more than one interpretation. It is a sweet short story of secrets, and discovery with a bit of danger.
The very spicy scenes in this contemporary m/m romance are balanced by the poignant descriptions of the difficulties faced by those whose sexual orientations are different from those around them. The importance of tolerance and the reminder that bullying manifests in many ways is alluded to without being didactic and I loved Gareth’s mom and her reactions.
Excerpt from Volley Balls
Gareth shifted uneasily in the darkened amphitheater. Another scene change. The effects were lovely and sometimes awe-inspiring, but he’d gotten the idea in the first half hour. He was ready to go.
He glanced to his left at Edge, who seemed fascinated with the show. Intriguing, since Edge had the attention span of a gnat. The other guys were more restless, jabbing each other when the bare-breasted art pieces appeared, but they managed to stay on the near side of rude.
He settled back for the duration. Maybe a little catnap. The lights came up as he started to close his eyes. He heard an indrawn breath and looked up. Holy, bloody, everlasting hell.
In the center of the vast stage, on a rotating platform in a single perfect spotlight, was David, the masterwork of Michelangelo. Gareth had seen it in Florence several times, and every sense he had told him he was looking at the actual statue, although his mind knew this was a human being. Glowing, luminous, absolutely still… sweet bloody Christ, how could someone do it? How could they have found a person so perfect?
He noticed a deep stillness in the audience and also among his mates. Edge was absolutely motionless. Unusual for him. But the statue, the guy, was just that beautiful.
Gareth cocked his head. The model’s legs were not as big and muscular as the Michelangelo. This “statue” was a bit leaner and even more graceful. The pedestal kept turning. He squinted. Bloody hell, he’d seen that perfect ass before. He peered into the pool of light as the David rotated. He’d seen those amazing cheekbones.
It was the guy from the beach and the shop. Gareth rifled through his program for the name. David Underwood. The one who owned the gallery. The fag. Gareth shifted onto his hip, leaning away from Edge. Wouldn’t do to let his pouf-hating friend see his massive erection.
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