Carly's Book Reviews: A Kind of Truth by Lane Hayes: #NewRelease #ExclusiveExcerpt #Giveaway @LaneHayes3

Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson

A Kind of Truth
(A Kind Of, Book 1)
by Lane Hayes

Length: 230 pages

Genres: Bisexual, M/M, Contemporary, Erotica, Humor, Romance

Rand O’Malley dreams of superstardom. He hopes to one day sing the blues like a rock god. Moving to New York City and hiring a new manager are steps to make his dreams a reality. But nothing moves as fast as Rand would like, and everyone has opinions, which include he keep certain pieces of himself quiet if he plans on making it in the Big Apple. Like his bisexuality.

Will Sanders is a gifted musician who dazzles Rand with his ability to coax gorgeous notes from an electric guitar one moment and play the piano like a professional the next. He’s a geek, but Rand isn’t concerned about Will’s pressed exterior clashing with his tattoos. His focus is music. Yet there’s something about Will that makes Rand think there’s much more to the quiet college student than he lets on. As Rand’s dreams begin to materialize, he’s forced to reconsider his priorities and find his own kind of truth. One that might include Will.

Watching Will’s face turn pink then red was extraordinarily entertaining. I nudged his elbow playfully and tried to gain control of my smile before it threatened to take over my entire face. When I couldn’t take the building pressure of emotion, I winked at the girls then leaned in and kissed his lips, loving that I took him by surprise. The elevator doors slid open a moment later. Will stepped into the empty corridor and gave me a wide-eyed incredulous stare.

“I cannot believe you just did that.”

“What? Kissed you on an elevator? It’s not like farting, ya know.”

Will huffed a sigh that clearly said he thought I was hopeless before turning to walk down the hall. “I was talking about the underwear comment but yeah, the kissing part was awkward too. No one wants to watch two people going at in a confined space. And besides, we’re supposed to be playing this strictly straight while we’re in public.”

He stopped to unlock the door to the classroom then pushed it open, pausing to give me a perturbed look before he moved inside ahead of me. I barked a quick laugh as I set my guitar on the back table and shrugged my jacket off.

“First of all, that was hardly going at it. It was a peck. You were the one advertising I left my clothes at your place in front of a couple cute girls. And who said anything about playing straight?”

“Were we not in the same room two mornings ago talking about this?”

“We were. In fact, we were naked in your bed. Decidedly un-straight. But the way I remember it, I was one who was holding back the gay while you were the one going for it. But let’s go back to the elevator. I think you purposefully blew my cover back there with those girls. Were you jealous?”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” he quipped as he made his way to the piano.

“Well, the next time you announce you’re holding my underwear hostage in a crowd, all bets are off, baby.” I gave him a lascivious once-over and waggled my eyebrows before tightening the strap on my guitar.

Will chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m pretty sure your tighty-whities never came up. My comment was perfectly innocent. There’s a big difference between hats and underwear.”

“I’m on to you, Will. You wanted those girls to know something’s going on between us. They’re probably talking right now. Bet they’re wondering if we’re in here having sex. Hell, they could be outside that door listening. Maybe we should give ‘em something to talk about.” I made a show of unbuckling my belt and the top button on my 501s. “Is there a camera in this room?”

“Keep your pants on. I’ve got two months left till graduation and I’d prefer not to get kicked out of school, please,” Will said primly, smacking my hand away.

“You won’t get kicked out. I doubt we’d be the first anyway.”

I rezipped my jeans and started to back up, but at the last second, I reached out to cup his chin between my thumb and forefinger. I traced his jaw and let my thumb roam higher to caress his cheekbone just under his glasses. His eyes fluttered shut. I loved the contrast of his fair skin and darker lashes and eyebrows. He was so damn pretty. And those lips. They were sensuous. That was the word. I leaned in and brushed my nose against his. I could feel his breath on my lips. The urge to plunge my tongue inside and take what I was very sure we both wanted was strong, but I waited for his permission.

When he didn’t respond, I let my hand fall to my side and started to pull back. Maybe he really was serious about propriety in the classroom. I wasn’t used to curbing my impulses to suit someone’s else’s sensibilities. I’d spent twenty-five years doing only what I wanted. Screw anyone else. Now here I was, attempting to hide my gay side publicly while trying to follow Will’s lead in private. It felt strange, I thought, just as Will launched himself at me.

I grunted in surprise when he wrapped his arms around my neck and crashed his mouth over mine. He softened the connection and tilted his head as he raked his fingers through my hair. I responded but let him control the tempo. Until he tentatively licked my lips. Fuck, he tasted sweeter than I remembered. Like peppermint candy or hot chocolate. I pulled him flush against my chest and slid my tongue alongside his, twisting and colliding in a passionate fusion. When he gasped for air I pulled back only to have him grind his hips into mine and lick my jaw. He swayed into me with a moan and lost his footing.

“Steady there.”

Will was sexier than he knew, which spelled potential danger for me. It was better to let the music take over for now.

Exclusive Excerpt from Lane's WIP (A Kind Of , Book 3)

Within a couple of days, I felt like I was well on my way to regaining my equilibrium. I loved being back in the city. Silly things, like walking to the corner market or hanging out with a few locals at the blues bar on Bowery were welcome changes to the fast paced life on the road, touring or making guest appearances. My neighbors might have known who I was but they didn’t care either way, which was fine by me. I wasn’t in danger of getting mobbed when I left my building by overzealous fans like Rand was and I could take cab anywhere without being bothered. We’d all been warned to be mindful of our surroundings but I figured in New York City that was sound advice any day of the week.

Even in SoHo, I mused as I glanced up and down Benny and Zeke’s quiet cobblestone street. It was Saturday night in late March. There was a bite in the air that made me think the weatherman’s prediction for a late snowstorm could be a reality. I paid the taxi driver then made a dash for their building. It was blessedly warm inside the modern lobby. I shook off the last remnant of a chill and smiled at the doorman.

“Hi Mr. Chalmers. I take it you’re here for Benny and Zeke,” the enthusiastic young man exclaimed.

I nodded, not bothering to ask how he knew my surname. I’d learned not to question minor details nowadays. As long as he kept things light and friendly, it hardly mattered. He guided me toward the elevator and used his card key to access the roof.

“The party’s on the roof?” My brow furrowed in dismay. It was fucking freezing outside.

The doorman chuckled lightly as he held the elevator open. “Yes, but there’s a tent and a ton of outdoor space heaters. It should be comfortable.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Benny wouldn’t settle for less. Thanks.” I stepped inside and waited for him to release his hold on the door.

He inclined his head and blushed furiously before blurting, “Congratulations on your last album. I’m really looking forward to the next one.”

“Thank—” The doors slid shut before I could reply.

I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket and stared briefly at my reflection in the mirrored panel along the sides of the car. I’d finally managed to get my hair cut and at the last second, I decided to shave off my beard. I looked more like myself, which according to Rand meant I probably resembled the average grad school student at New York University. A conservative, nice looking guy who looked like he was modeling for J.Crew Men. Not that I was model handsome. I was good looking enough I guessed, but I wasn’t special. My dark blond hair was cropped short and the blue in my crew-neck sweater made my eyes pop. That was as much of a fashion statement anyone was getting from me, unless my Doc Martens counted. Cory and I joked that our instruments suited our personalities perfectly. We were content to provide the back beat, looking vaguely like frat brothers while Rand and Isaac handled the crowd like rock gods. Fine by me.

Lane Hayes is grateful to finally be doing what she loves best. Writing full-time! It’s no secret Lane loves a good romance novel. An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. These days she prefers the leading roles to both be men. Lane discovered the M/M genre a few years ago and was instantly hooked. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions in the 2014 and 2015 Rainbow Awards. She loves red wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband and the coolest yellow Lab ever in an almost empty nest.

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