We The Bus People: An Intergalactic Gay Romance

By G.R. Richards

When Nikos's beloved T-Bird bites the dust, he's forced to take the bus home from his job in construction pre-fabrication. The last person he expects to meet on public transportation is his shop's favorite client, Manny the hot home-builder. Nikos is too intimidated to approach the guy, so he plays dead, pretending to sleep at the back of the bus.

Fake sleep leads to real sleep, and when Nikos wakes up, he's at the outer edges of the galaxy. He accidentally boarded the #97E, the extra-terrestrial route, and Manny opted to pay his extra fare just for the chance to get to know him. Of course, Manny has a story of his own, involving his race of interplanetary refugees!

Will love blossom on an intergalactic bus route?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Great Gay Fiction
• Release date: Sep 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516316991

Book preview

We the Bus People

By G.R. Richards

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And I thought my commute was torture! Until I fell asleep on the #97 bus, I had no idea Manny came from so far away.

I didn't usually take the bus home from work—bought my first used car before I turned twenty and I haven't been without one since. Well, that morning, my gorgeous old T-Bird's head gasket sprung a leak and my baby ended up in the hands of my relatively un-shifty mechanic. Dean—that's my car, not my mechanic—is an American beauty, but the troubles are endless, I tell you! Take my advice: never buy a vehicle for his looks.

Anyway, what with Dean's repair costs, I couldn't nearly afford to take a taxi home. No, I'd just have to suffer through the bus ride from the pre-fabrication shop to my apartment at the opposite end of the city. Honestly? I enjoy my daily commute... when I'm alone and singing along to whichever Guns N’ Roses song is blaring from the car stereo. The #97 bus was a rude awakening.

It'd been ages since I'd taken public transportation. I had to ask around at work to find out what the current fare was. I'd have never guessed three dollars cash. Sheesh. Seems like only yesterday it was a dollar and a quarter. Fuel costs and all that, I suppose.

Anyway, Friday after work I called my mechanic on the off-chance he'd gotten around to fixing Dean's gasket. No such luck. There was no way in hell he'd have time until Tuesday afternoon. Looked like I was bussing it.

So, I assembled my three dollars exact change and walked up to the bus stop, hoping none of my motor-worshipping buddies would catch me. I guess I could have asked Ricardo for a ride, but admitting a breakdown is admitting to ownership of an inferior vehicle, and I'd die before giving him that pleasure.

I'm not sure why I assumed the #97 would take me where I wanted to go. I guess I figured it was going east and I was going east, so it was all good. I stood behind the bus shelter as I waited so none of the guys would see me as they drove by. Just as the #97 rippled onto the asphalt horizon, Manny appeared on the sidewalk. My heart turned into a brick