Netherhall Gardens & Beyond
116 pages
English

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116 pages
English

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Description

A sequel to the highly acclaimed Netherhall Gardens. Following the arrest of London's notorious gay serial killer and the shocking revelations of Laura's disastrous dinner party, the tale extends to Brighton and Amsterdam. For Mark, the handsome young accountant with a knack for attracting trouble, life will never be the same again. Now sexually liberated with eager suitors vying for his attention, he has some tough choices to make. But then someone new enters his life, determined to steal his heart, mind and body - by force if necessary. Head-strong Stella has broken off all ties to her philandering bisexual boyfriend, Hugh. With her life in tatters, she finds consolation unexpectedly when her mother, Morag, reveals the true extent of her lottery win, and she entices a surprising new man into bed. Boisterous Laura finds solace when her family's covert past is revealed, but needs leather-loving cop, Steve, to save her from her own blundering misdeeds. Steve though, still smitten with Mark, must swallow his pride if he is to regain the trust of the man he most desires. Netherhall Gardens and Beyond is a sexy, dark romp that builds to another thrilling climax. But, will anyone be on hand this time to save Mark as events spiral out of control

Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 05 octobre 2009
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781848769977
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0300€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Carl Patrick was born in Oxford and wrote his first novel whilst still at school about the rape of a fellow pupil. Whilst at University, he began to write a science fiction trilogy, which is yet to be finished. After graduating, he trained as a Chartered Accountant in the City of London where he remained for 15 years before moving to Brighton to set up his own business. Netherhall Gardens is his first contemporary gay novel and was published by Matador in 2008. Netherhall Gardens and Beyond is the long-awaited sequel and Carl is currently writing the third novel in the series.

Following the release of Netherhall Gardens, Carl has experienced a number of life changes and is currently single again and living in Brighton. He still enjoys wild sex (when he can get it), cooking and entertaining friends as well as running his own small business, going to the gym, reading, listening to music and travelling to his favourite destinations such as Amsterdam, Berlin, Provincetown, San Francisco or anywhere with a nice secluded beach.


CARL PATRICK

NETHERHALL
GARDENS
& BEYOND

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

Matador 5 Weir Road Kibworth Beauchamp Leicester LE8 0LQ, UK Tel: (+44) 116 279 2299 Fax: 0116 279 2277 Email: books@troubador.co.uk Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

All characterisations portrayed in this novel are fictitious and any similarity to persons alive or dead is purely coincidental.

ISBN 978 1848761 902

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Typeset in 11pt Stempel Garamond by Troubador Publishing Ltd, Leicester, UK

Acknowledgements

Thank you:

To everyone mentioned in Book One with the addition of the following: Michael, Bernd & Lucky, Evert, Steve Mason, Richard & John, Julian Panico, Tim Fryday, Barry John, Leigh James, Sean Adamson and Alex Kessels.

With special thanks to:

Eric Karl Anderson (Author) for his skillful editing and professional advice. Chris Bourne for his expert proof-reading skills
Ian Trentham for his expert advice on piloting a light aircraft Sarah Hopwood for her remarkable mentoring skills

To everyone who sent me comments about Book One for the website – they are truly uplifting and encouraging and I can't thank you enough.

Appearances by:

Alison Moyet, Bach, D-Ream, Green Day, Heart, James, Shania Twain & Travis

Chapter One

I T WAS A WARM Sunday morning in May and Mark sipped his fresh orange juice as Hugh prepared them scrambled eggs on brown toast. Hugh was wearing just a pair of white boxer shorts and his muscles bulged enticingly as he whisked the eggs. He looked up and caught Mark staring at him. He smiled, revealing even white teeth topped off with a luxuriant black moustache.
'What're you thinking?' he asked.
Mark shook his head. 'If only I knew,' he said and sighed.
Hugh added some chopped parsley and chives, a dash of milk, a quick grind of black pepper and a little grated Parmesan to the eggs, and then poured the mixture into a medium-sized saucepan where some olive oil had been gently heating. He stirred it constantly as it cooked.
'Well, I have to admit, Laura's dinner party has given us all something to think about,' he chuckled. 'It was one of those events that change people's lives, for better or for worse.'
Mark nodded slowly in agreement. He'd arrived at Laura's party the previous evening with his boyfriend Steve and had left with Hugh – the boyfriend of his best friend Stella. Was that for the better? He hoped so. He leaned against the fridge and gazed at Hugh as he stopped stirring the eggs for a moment and hurried across the kitchen to cut some bread. Mark gulped the rest of his orange juice and moved to stand behind the man who had ravaged him for half the night and again this morning. He cuddled Hugh from behind, relishing the feel of his hard body once more. 'For better, I hope,' he said, adding, 'Though I doubt if Stella feels the same.'
'Forgotten about Steve so soon?' Hugh asked, turning to face him.
Mark scowled. 'We were only together for two weeks. You were with Stella a lifetime in comparison.'
'It certainly feels like it,' Hugh agreed, suddenly remembering the eggs and making a dash for the cooker. He stirred them vigorously, turning the heat down low. 'The art of making good scrambled eggs,' he said, swiftly changing the subject, 'is to stir them continuously over a low heat and not to overcook them.'
Mark watched him, noting the curves of his broad back as it narrowed down to his prominent, firm buttocks. Thick, black hair sprouted from the tops of his thighs all the way down to his bare ankles. 'If you say so,' he replied.
The toast popped up just as the eggs reached the right consistency. Hugh turned off the heat, distributed the toast onto two warm plates and then spooned the eggs into place. He picked up the plates and walked ahead of Mark into the dining area that overlooked the rear garden through patio doors.
Mark sat down on one chair and Hugh seated himself opposite. 'It's funny, you're very similar to Steve,' he said.
'Oh. In what way?' Hugh asked, pouring himself more juice. 'Help yourself, by the way,' he added, indicating the orange juice carton.
'Thanks,' replied Mark, refilling his glass. 'Well, you know, he likes good food, fine wine, cooks his food in certain ways, has scrambled eggs for breakfast – that sort of thing… He's also great in bed – just like you.'
Hugh paused with a forkful of toast and egg. 'Thanks. But, it's me you want, right?'
Mark laughed.
Hugh wasn't laughing.
Mark stopped laughing. He leant forward and cupped Hugh's stubbled jaw. 'Yes, it's you I want,' he said seriously.
Hugh forced a smile as he resumed eating.

??

The object of Mark's recent passion and Hugh's current unease, Detective Constable Steve Evans, was feeling morose. For one thing, he'd brooded half the night – first blaming everybody else in turn, then accepting most of the blame himself for the disastrous and abrupt end to Laura's dinner party – and then, finally, in the remaining few hours before dawn, wishing he could have erased the previous 12 hours. For another thing, he had just burned the scrambled eggs, so much so that he was probably going to have to throw the saucepan away rather than bother to clean it. He'd been lost in his thoughts and had completely forgotten to stir them.
His mood, however, was shifting once more. Steve was never one to blame himself for very long, no matter how iffy the circumstances. Despite deep regrets about his own behaviour, he felt that Hugh deserved everything that had happened to him and more. Much more. Horny, he might be, but that didn't license him to fuck with people's minds as well as their bodies, either in trousers or a skirt. And now, presumably, Hugh had lost his quirky but stunningly beautiful girlfriend Stella, blown his bisexual closet to tiny shards and totally alienated Mark as well. All in one evening! That thought brought a small sneer of satisfaction to Steve's handsome face.
He thought again of Mark and wondered for the umpteenth time what had happened to him after the dinner party. Had he gone straight home? A worried thought creased his brow as he dropped the now cold and blackened saucepan into the swing-bin.
Then the doorbell rang. Steve glanced at the kitchen clock as he walked through into the hall. It was nearly eleven o'clock and not a child in the house washed! as his grandma, whose Mayfair house he inherited and now lived in, used to say. He thought fondly of her as he walked the length of the cool hall.
He opened the door and his heart leapt. It was Mark!
'I've come to collect my things,' Mark said coldly. Steve's
heart missed a beat as he noticed Mark was still wearing the same jeans and polo shirt he'd been wearing at the dinner party.
'Good, I've packed them already,' Steve lied, recovering quickly. 'Come in.'
Mark walked past him towards the lounge. Steve closed the front door and followed.
'Not been home yet, I notice,' Steve said, eyeing Mark's clothes.
'No, not yet. Hugh offered me one of his shirts to wear, but this is fine.'
Steve coughed uncomfortably. 'Hugh?' he enquired.
'Yes – Hugh,' Mark agreed. 'Funny old world, eh?'
Steve's eyes hardened. 'You mean, after everything that big shit's done, you stayed at his place?'
Mark's mouth twitched into a grim smile. 'I didn't just stay at his place. It's funny; he's similar to you in many ways – except he's a lot nicer. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like my things…'
Steve took a step towards Mark. 'Tell me you're joking,' he said. 'Please?'
'About him being similar to you or nicer than you?'
'Neither, you idiot!' Steve shouted. 'About you not just staying at his place!'
Mark stared at him and shrugged indifferently.
Steve raised his eyes heavenwards and closed them for a moment. 'I can't believe this,' he said. 'You do know he's fucked half the people in that room last night, don't you?'
'Don't exaggerate,' Mark rebuked him.
'OK then, three of them at least!'
'Well, four to be precise.'
Steve groaned as the implication sank in. He shook his head sadly and stared directly into Mark's red-rimmed blue eyes. 'You know then that he's a two-timer, a closet bisexual, a complete liar and I wouldn't be at all surprised if he were a confidence trickster, a bigamist and a m

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