Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Winter's Fire
Winter's Fire
Winter's Fire
Ebook235 pages4 hours

Winter's Fire

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Ex-Army sniper Sam Winter is home from the war. But it wasn’t an act of heroism that got him medically discharged. After his team found out he was gay, they beat him so severely he could no longer perform his duties. Now, at his family’s horse farm in Kentucky, Sam faces not only an uncertain future, but his father’s condemnation and prejudice, as well. The one thing he is certain about is his feelings for his best friend, Cooper Brown, who Sam has secretly been attracted to since high school. For years, Cooper has harbored his own secret attraction toward Sam. Now that Sam is home for good, he’s ready to tell him how he feels.

When Coop and Sam finally reveal their secrets to one another, the bonds of friendship expand in ways neither thought possible. As his relationship with Coop grows stronger every day, Sam feels his life is finally on course, especially when he rediscovers his love for photography and envisions a new career behind the camera. But an infernal stable fire changes everything and forces shocking, long-hidden truths into the light, changing Sam’s life forever.

Author’s Note: This novel is a rewrite of a previously published novella titled The Arms of Winter, which is included at the back of the Winter’s Fire. Upon the return of my rights to this novella in early 2014, I overhauled the story and added 40,000 words to the manuscript, altering much of the plot, as well as the ending. I think the story is now richer and illustrates much better conflict than the original. I hope you enjoy Winter’s Fire.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDonya Lynne
Release dateDec 18, 2014
ISBN9781938991080
Winter's Fire
Author

Donya Lynne

Donya Lynne is the bestselling author of the award winning All the King's Men and Strong Karma Series and a member of Romance Writers of America. Making her home in a wooded suburb north of Indianapolis with her husband, Donya has lived in Indiana most of her life and knew at a young age she was destined to be a writer. She started writing poetry in grade school and won her first short story contest in fourth grade. In junior high, she began writing romantic stories for her friends, and by her sophomore year, she’d been dubbed Most Likely to Become a Romance Novelist. In 2012, she fulfilled her dream by publishing her first two novels and a novella. Her work has earned her two IPPYs, five eLit Awards, a USA Today Recommended Read, and numerous accolades, including two Smashwords bestsellers. When she’s not writing, she can be found cheering on the Indianapolis Colts or doing her cats’ bidding.

Read more from Donya Lynne

Related to Winter's Fire

Related ebooks

Gay Fiction For You

View More

Related articles

Related categories

Reviews for Winter's Fire

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Winter's Fire - Donya Lynne

    Winter’s Fire©

    Copyright 2014 Donya Lynne

    Phoenix Press LLC

    Cover by Reese Dante - www.reesedante.com

    ISBN: 978-1-938991-08-0

    This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at donya@donyalynne.com.

    References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons or locales, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

    Contents

    Dedication

    Acknowledgements

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Chapter 19

    Epilogue

    Did You Enjoy the Book?

    Books By Donya Lynne

    About the Author

    Connect With Donya

    Dedication

    To all the authors who published with Silver Publishing. Here’s to new beginnings.

    Acknowledgements

    As always, I want to thank my faithful beta readers. Each of my books is a collaborative effort, and it’s your feedback that fuels and inspires me to do more with a story than I can do alone.

    Thank you to my readers. You are why I do what I do, and I hope I can continue to give you stories to tantalize your imaginations for many years to come.

    Chapter 1

    Sam lugged his Army-issued duffel down the steps of the bus, his shoulder aching. This was the most he’d used his arm in months, and didn’t he know it.

    Welcome home, son.

    His dad’s greeting seemed warm enough, but Sam didn’t miss the uneasy shift of his dad’s eyes as he bent and grabbed Sam’s suitcase from the ones being unloaded from the luggage hold.

    Hey, Dad.

    The two looked at each other for a heartbeat before his dad spit a trail of dark tobacco juice out the corner of his mouth.

    Well, come on then. Let’s get your ass home. Ever’body wants to see ya.

    His dad turned without another word, and his weathered cowboy boots clunked evenly against the pavement as he walked to the F-150 Super Cab he used for hauling horses.

    How’s Abby? Sam climbed into the passenger seat.

    Abby was Sam’s younger sister, and other than his best friend, Cooper, she was the only one he was looking forward to seeing now that he was home.

    Fine.

    Mom?

    Fine.

    Sam sighed with frustration at his dad’s frostiness. Not that his dad had ever been much for showing emotion, but Sam knew why he was giving him the cold shoulder this time.

    Look, Dad, about what happened—

    That’s your business, son. I don’t wanna hear about it.

    But—

    I said drop it, Sam.

    Sam shook his head, irritated, and turned his gaze out the window. Even at twenty-five, after six years being a tough-ass Army sniper, he still couldn’t stand up to his dad, who had always ruled with an iron—if not mostly silent—fist.

    They pulled out of the Greyhound station in Lexington, jumped on Broadway, and hit I-75 South. Rolling Kentucky pastures were like long-lost friends greeting Sam’s gaze as his dad rushed them down the interstate like there was a tidal wave barreling down on their ass.

    Dad probably just didn’t want to be alone with him for too long for fear Sam’s sin would taint him. Sam could almost hear his dad’s thoughts now. Sinner, devil’s lust, faggot.

    Predictable.

    His dad’s opinions had been passed down from his own father. Far be it for his dad to actually make up his own mind instead of inheriting Grandpa Ralph’s prejudice. Sam might have actually respected his dad’s stance were it his own and not simply the regurgitation of an angry old man from a bygone era.

    Sam turned his attention back to the pastureland flying by. While he’d been away, he hadn’t missed his dad or his genetically acquired judgmental opinions, but he had missed home.

    Kentucky was a long way from the big dust bucket known as Iraq. A long way from IEDs, enemies disguised as friendlies, and setting up his M24 sniper weapon system for a long, hot day of surveillance with the occasional chance of actually pulling the trigger.

    Most people thought being a sniper was a glamorous job. That a sniper moved in, set up, made his kill, and split before the dust settled. But that was Hollywood bullshit. In the real world, snipers didn’t always get out alive. The days were long, the work was tedious, the weapons were heavy, and the amount of patience required was almost inhuman. The job was also extremely dangerous. Insurgents had snipers of their own, so teams always had to watch out for the enemy targeting them while they were targeting the enemy.

    However, as dangerous as the job was, Sam hadn’t been discharged because of his injuries in the line of duty. Discharge papers had been slapped in his hand for being gay. Or rather, for being beaten senseless because he was gay.

    Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell had been repealed, huh? Yeah, right. Tell that to his busted nose. And the scar above his eye. And the shoulder that had been dislocated so badly it still ached.

    So much for a military career. Now, in addition to the potential landmines he would have to dodge when his friends and family found out he was gay, he needed to figure out what to do with the rest of his life. And working on the family horse farm wasn’t the answer. He’d never been the horse training type.

    The Welcome Home sign at the front corner of the property broke him from his thoughts.

    What’s this? Sam nodded toward the sign.

    His dad spat out the window. Your mom invited over a few friends.

    A few?

    You know your mom.

    In other words, everyone from the hired help to the horse owners to every person he had ever known had probably been invited, not to mention his entire extended family.

    Damn it, Dad. She knows what happened, right?

    Sam wasn’t in the mood to deal with questions about the incidents leading up to his medical discharge. He didn’t want to have to lie about who he was anymore, but coming out to everyone tonight wasn’t what he had in mind.

    She knows.

    Then why is she throwing a party?

    "Well, for starters, ever’body’s been itchin’ to see ya, Sam. Cut your mom some slack, for Christ’s sake. Just because you’re a faggot doesn’t mean you have to behave like a fuckin’ girl, like your sister. God help us, but she’s turning into a goddamn diva."

    The brakes engaged in Sam’s brain. His dad had actually gone there. He’d yanked the homophobic chain without even a flinch of regret.

    Fuck him. Maybe in high school when he had been unsure about his sexuality, and maybe in the Army where homosexuals didn’t receive what could be called a warm welcome, he had kept his mouth shut. But no more. The beat-down he had suffered had done that much for him, putting a fire under his ass and in his soul. Those assholes had thought to shut him up, make him feel guilty. All they had done was strengthen his resolve. Of course, he’d gone through mental and emotional hell in that hospital in Germany to reach his new state of mind, but at least he’d crossed that cesspool.

    "I am not a faggot!" Sam raised his voice to his dad for the first time since…ever.

    The hell you’re not! Senior shot him an accusing glance. "You got the shit beat outta you because you fuck men. The skin around his eyes ticked as his gaze lowered for an instant before rising to meet the road again. Dad shifted in his seat and gripped the steering wheel more tightly. That’s why you got kicked out of the Army. That’s why you’ve come home to disgrace the family with your sin. That’s—"

    Dad! He wasn’t going to be pushed around by his domineering, holier-than-thou father anymore. "I. Am. Gay. GAY! I’m not a faggot. Sam jabbed his finger at his dad. And yes, I’m sexually attracted to men, but that doesn’t mean I’ve fucked any. Jesus Christ, you make it sound like I’m a sex addict or a deviant or something."

    Just because he was gay didn’t mean acts of physical intimacy were automatically down-graded to fucking. When he found the right man—and he could think of one who was already perfect—he wouldn’t fuck him. The way his dad said the word like it was a derogatory insult was not how he saw what he wanted to do in his mind, but the term making love made him want to roll his eyes. So, yeah, whatever, but it damn sure wasn’t fucking.

    His dad looked like he was about to go off again, but Sam cut him off before more shit flew. If you’ve got a problem with that, then fuck you. He settled into his seat and turned his gaze to the side before glaring back at his dad. I don’t need your goddamn approval, Dad. Not that I ever did. So put a cap on that fucking shit right now.

    Okay, so where had that come from? He’d gone from being intimidated by his dad to putting his foot down—and not just putting it down but stomping it so hard he’d stunned his dad into silence. That had never happened before.

    His dad’s face turned multiple shades of red, each deeper than the last, and he stared wide-eyed out the windshield as if a giant ogre had busted through the pavement and was crawling out from under the road. His jaw bunched and flexed, right below his ear. Then as suddenly as he had flushed crimson, the color drained from his face altogether as Grandpa Ralph’s truck slowed from the opposite direction in front of their driveway up ahead.

    Sam flung his gaze out the passenger window. He and his dad had never been close, despite sharing a name, but it was nothing compared to the tension between Dad and Grandpa Ralph. Still, the shit his dad had just spewed gave new meaning to the words strained relationship.

    Not another word passed between them as his dad turned onto the manicured, white gravel in front of Grandpa. Cars lined both sides of the long driveway, and Sam could see balloons, streamers, and a shitload of people milling by the stable. A plume of scattered gray smoke rose behind the house from what had to be one hell of a grill.

    He so didn’t want to be here right now, but if he had to be, then he hoped Coop was, too. Coop would at least make the night bearable.

    * * * *

    Cooper Brown leaned against the gaping entrance to the barn, one ankle crossed over the other, his thumb hooked inside his front jeans pocket. He nursed a Budweiser as he watched Senior’s Ford stir up dust on the newly graveled drive. And how about this? Sam’s granddad, Old Ralph Winter, was making an appearance. When was the last time he’d seen ol’ Ralph stop by the ranch? Looked like everybody was coming out to welcome Sam home.

    The mouth-watering smell of smoked ribs made his stomach growl, but his gaze never wavered from the passenger side of Senior’s truck as the pickup came to a stop under the silver maple where the Ford Super Duty lived when Senior was home.

    Damn, he was nervous as hell. He was about to see his best friend for the first time in six years, not counting the short stints that Sam had been home on leave. But this time was different. This time, Sam was staying.

    This time was real.

    He lifted the beer to his lips and swigged down a mouthful as he pushed off the sturdy wood and scuffed his boots in the white-washed rock.

    After Cooper’s family had moved to Richmond the summer before his sophomore year, he had met Sam in homeroom the first day of school. They had become instant friends and before long, one couldn’t be found without the other. Their families had even begun joking they must have been twins separated at birth. They did everything together. Four-wheeling along the trails in the woods beyond the farm. Skinny dipping in Cob’s Creek or Walker Pond. They had spent weekends hunting and camping, always talking about what they would do after graduation. Sam had known by his senior year he would go into the Army rather than stay home and help run the ranch. A lot of people had wanted to serve their country at the time, including Sam.

    Now Sam was back from the war. Permanently, from the sound of it. Coop had heard the rumors, but he didn’t want to take anything as gospel until he’d heard straight from Sam what had happened.

    Cooper had always had eyes for Sam, but he had never known where Sam stood. Hell, back then he hadn’t known where he stood. Now was a different story.

    Cooper was flat-out, one hundred percent gay. No question. He had settled that score years ago during Sam’s short visit home after Basic Training. Coop had realized then that he loved Sam in a way best friends didn’t normally love each other. In a way that made him adjust himself in his jeans now that Sam was home. Just seeing Sam’s profile through the passenger window was enough to wake up his johnson.

    Shit. His hands were shaking. He took a nervous breath and tried to calm down as the truck’s engine shut off.

    He adjusted his weathered cowboy hat and stepped out of the stable as the passenger door of the truck opened and Sam climbed out, his expression stiff and uncomfortable. Coop could just imagine what had caused that. He and Senior didn’t get along, and if the rumors Coop had heard were true, he was sure the conversation on the drive from Lexington had been laced with plenty of colorful euphemisms.

    Sam looked good in his fatigues, though, despite the sour puss and high-and-tight Army buzz that had stripped him of all his luscious blond hair. The military had done Sam a world of good. He was still long and lean but had packed on the muscle.

    But even from over twenty feet away, Cooper could see the evidence of what had sent Sam home. A pink scar streaked his temple, and it was clear his nose had been broken.

    Shit, exactly what had happened over there?

    Then Sam’s gaze met his, and he felt the corners of his mouth lift of their own accord. After an expectant beat of hesitation, Sam’s face erupted into a wide smile.

    Coop! Goddamn, it’s good to see you. Sam dropped his bag and rushed across the gravel. He pulled Cooper into a hearty embrace, not seeming to notice the hundred or so other guests lined up for his attention.

    Cooper bear-hugged him and laughed. Sonofabitch, it’s good to see you again, Sammy.

    Six years of waiting vanished in a blink. It was as if not a day had passed.

    Shit, look at you! Sam clapped his shoulder. Check out these guns. He clutched one of Cooper’s biceps. What are they feeding you around here? Growth hormone?

    Coop brushed his hand over where Sam had touched him. Fuck, no. That’s for the horses.

    Oh, hell no!

    I’m just kidding. Your dad would kill me. He might joke about it, but he would never seriously consider abusing the horses like that, and Sam knew it.

    Sam laughed and play-punched his gut, goading him. More like give you a raise.

    Fuck you, Winter. Cooper swiped his hand over Sam’s head. At least I’ve still got my hair.

    Hey, don’t hate the buzz. Sam batted his hand away and ran his palm over his blond stubble.

    Damn, Sam looked even better up close.

    I’m not hating on it. His voice softened as he drank in Sam’s handsome face. Not at all.

    Sam sobered, his gaze suddenly curious. The way he looked at him then, his blue eyes full of unasked questions, as if he wanted to tell him something but knew now wasn’t the time, made Coop hold his breath in anticipation. He just wanted all these other people gone so he could be alone with Sammy, tell him how he felt and put his feelings out there.

    Suddenly, Sam’s two older brothers and his sister swept him up in a fit of whoops and hollers.

    Welcome home, old man! His oldest brother bear-hugged him from behind then plunked him back down.

    Get over here and see what we made for you! His other brother lightly jabbed him in the chest.

    His sister managed to kiss his cheek in the melee. "You should see the cake Mom bought! It’s huge!"

    Sam craned his neck to look over his shoulder. Hey, Coop, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back. Damn, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I’ve got so much to tell you.

    So do I. Like how much I missed you…how much I love you.

    I’ll be here. Coop waved him on. He wasn’t going anywhere, not until he had some one-on-one with this best friend.

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1