Shine A Light

By KC Kendricks

After being viciously outed by his spiteful ex-lover, Van MacKenzie, fallen Hollywood and Broadway star, lands on stage in a small town community theatre - and in the arms of set designer Shane Hollister. Van knows his attraction to the talented young man could seal the fate of his career, but he can't resist having a 'summer thing' while performing at The Globe. When an act of violence catches them unaware, Van recognizes the message was really meant for him. Walking away from Shane might be the smart thing to do to keep him safe.

Shane Hollister had established himself as a Broadway set designer before his father's accident forced him to move home to St. Charles. Needing work, Shane accepts a job at The Globe. To his surprise, the small operation equals any big city production. When Donovan "Van" MacKenzie signs on for the new show, Shane grabs the chance to have a summer fling with his big-screen idol, refusing to allow Van's past to intrude. 

Shane knows he has only one chance to catch a fallen star and keep him for his own.

* * * * 

"I believe you, Shane. You said you didn't know he was coming here. Well, okay. People surprise us. I know that. But he is here, and you are involved with him, and I can't afford the distraction."

I wanted to say more to him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him to send Doug packing. I needed him to prove to me he wasn't planning to fuck me and any other guy at the same time. But one trick with him didn't give me the right.

He nodded, his eyes sad. "I don't know what else to say except I'm sorry, Van."

The ice around my heart cracked. I managed a smile for him. "I'm sorry, too."

Shane reached out and smoothed the lapel of my jacket, although it didn't need it. This might be as close as I ever got to him again. God help me, but I couldn't walk away without touching him one more time. I grasped his hips and pulled him, unresisting, to me.

His arms snaked up around my neck, holding me with his fierce, young strength. We pressed together, chest-to-chest and thigh-to-thigh. I breathed in his scent and kissed his hair, committing the feel of him to memory, then I gently pulled away.

"I'm flying back to the city tomorrow, and then driving my own car back on Tuesday. I'll put the key under the mat and leave your car at the cabin since you have your keyless entry."

His hands came to rest on my shoulders. "How are you getting to the airport?"

"I cut a deal with one of the boys who work at the resort. He's agreed to be my go-fer when I need one, provided he's off-shift."

Shane accepted that, nodding, his gaze somewhere past me. I was poignantly reminded of his youth. Would he listen to my advice?

"Shane, if you have any doubts about Doug, do yourself a favor, and end it. I didn't do that with Lynn and I paid a high price for it."

"It's not like that, man! I told you. I don't sleep with him any more. That's in the past. We're just friends now."

"Lot's of things are in the past," I told him as gently as I could. It was all over him that he wanted to argue with me, but his shoulders slumped, and his eyes had a vacant look to them. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to touch him again.

"Shane, what's really wrong?"

"Nothing. You don't want anything to do with me. Well, okay. I'll get over it." He turned and walked away, his long strides quickly putting distance between us.

I watched him go with a sinking feeling in my gut. I'd bungled that, and badly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Deer Enterprises/White Deer Books
• Release date: Apr 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524257903

KC Kendricks

KC Kendricks calls herself an accidental writer. After completing her first novel writing as Rayne Forrest, she was urged to submit it to a publisher, and everything snowballed from there. Today, the author has had over seventy books published. In July of 2021, she tried to retire but her employer offered her a deal to work at home. She accepted. Now she balances work, writing, and hearth and home in a controlled chaos. A native of scenic western Maryland, the author enjoys most activities that don’t include snow. In warm weather she might be found walking the dog, biking on the C&O Canal towpath, planting delicacies in her garden for the deer to munch on at night, playing in the creek, or lazing on the patio with her Kindle reader or laptop. She recently began to research her family history and can't drive past a cemetery without stopping to search for family sites. Her mission is to photograph old tombstones before the elements erode the stones and the names are lost to time. For more about KC Kendricks and Rayne Forrest’s writing life, please visit the Between the Keys blog at http:kckendricks.blogspot.com . If you’d like to know more about the author’s country lifestyle and her daily activities full of simple country pleasures (and a lot of work), please visit the Holly Tree Manor blog at http://hollytreemanor.blogspot.com . KC can be reached through her blog, Between the Keys. All comments are strictly moderated by the author and personal messages are treated as such. Follow the author on Twitter for up-to-date announcements at Twitter.com/KCKendricks.

Book preview

About Shine A Light

After being viciously outed by his spiteful ex-lover, Van MacKenzie, fallen Hollywood and Broadway star, lands on stage in a small-town community theatre - and in the arms of set designer Shane Hollister. Van knows his attraction to the talented young man could seal the fate of his career, but he can’t resist having a ‘summer thing’ while performing at The Globe. When an act of violence catches them unaware, Van recognizes the message was really meant for him. Walking away from Shane might be the smart thing to do to keep him safe.

Shane Hollister had established himself as a Broadway set designer before his father’s accident forced him to move home to St. Charles. Needing work, Shane accepts a job at The Globe. To his surprise, the small operation equals any big city production. When Donovan Van MacKenzie signs on for the new show, Shane grabs the chance to have a summer fling with his big-screen idol, refusing to allow Van’s past to intrude. 

Shane knows he has only one chance to catch a fallen star and keep him for his own.

What they said about Shine A Light...

Go ahead and Shine a Light on this sensual and satisfying page turner.  Well written, intriguing characters are the focus.  Van is picking up the pieces, stumbling, in shock from a betrayal he never saw coming and Shane, tender and strong, is the perfect match for Van.  Well-paced, with solid secondary characters and the setting is nicely detailed as well.  Shine a Light has steamy moments – hot enough to fog your glasses - and characters you will care about.  Seriously entertaining and totally engaging. – Joyfully Reviewed

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A really nice, solidly written contemporary romance.  It’s an easy read with a satisfying ending that clearly shows the heroes hopes for a wonderful future together. I enjoyed it and recommend it. - Jessewave

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Shine A Light is a delightful story of one man’s struggle to put his professional life back together after being outed by an angry ex-lover...The characters of Van and Shane are likable and the chemistry between them is obvious from their first meeting... This contemporary romance is enjoyable, leaving the reader with that happy, satisfied feeling at the end. - Literary Nymphs

For Kevin, wherever your journey leads, may someone shine a light.

CHAPTER 1

It’s often said pride goes before the fall. I can attest that it’s sometimes the other way around, especially if you don’t see it coming at you. I’d fallen, and far, and what little pride I had left refused to allow me to walk into the off-Broadway theater when the lights were up. No, Van MacKenzie did not want to be spotted as he scoped out a little bitty community theater in the deep woods, some two hundred miles west of Manhattan.

I’d have to come to terms with my pride, and fast, if I landed a job here. I slid into my seat and scrunched down, leaning toward my agent so I could keep my voice low. Sorry, I’m late.

Constance handed me a program. No, you’re not. I knew you’d slink in here at the last minute so it’d be dark and no one would recognize you.

Okay. Guilty. Now let’s just watch the show.

She sighed, loudly, and I wondered again why I put up with her. It might be that no other agent would touch me right now. Homophobic bastards, all of them.

That was the bitterness talking, but sue me, not that I had a lot left worth taking. The entertainment industry and my faithless ex-lover had seen to that.

Yes, I was a wee bit bitter and needed to remind myself I was far from destitute, no matter how it felt.

The lights dimmed, and I put my personal unrest aside. I loved Arsenic and Old Lace and made up my mind to enjoy the play, even if it was a community theater way, way, way off-Broadway. Forty-five minutes later, I applauded with as much enthusiasm as everyone else, pleasantly surprised at the quality of the actors.

My agent smirked at me as I stayed in my seat during the intermission. I kept my head bent as I scoured the program looking for some well-known name, some clue how these folks managed to pull off this caliber of production.

I almost got away with anonymity. Almost.

The lights flickered, and a jaunty little piano tune tinkled out of the speakers. When it ended, a large majority of the audience clapped three times and yelled, The Globe! I was impressed at the level of support. Necessity is a mother, so they say. I didn’t fancy working in the woods with the bugs and snakes, but I couldn’t afford to be too choosy, and a theater with a loyal following was better than one without.

Then it happened. Lightning.

I hoped the seat in front of me would remain empty for the third act, but it was not to be. An attractive, well-built young man my practiced eye put at a bit taller than my barely reaching six-foot frame inched his way down the row. He carelessly draped what appeared to be an expensive black leather jacket across the seat beside him, glanced at me, and froze as recognition flickered in his dark gaze. I stared into his wide black pupils that reflected the dancing, low lighting of the theater, and couldn’t draw a breath. He was gorgeous, way too much so to be gay, but I was instantly smitten. I smiled at him.

The object of my interest treated me to a small smile and a quick nod, then settled in his seat. I fidgeted in mine, inhaling the undeniably male scent beneath the light, crisp cologne he wore. I recognized it as I had a bottle on the shelf in my bathroom, but it didn’t smell that good on me, so I didn’t use it. The return of my agent interrupted my private interlude. Constance handed me a large, covered cup before she plopped down in her seat.

God, I love these little country places. Where else can you get old-fashioned coffee like this and bring it to your seat?

I lifted the lid and sniffed. The guy in front of me had more olfactory appeal, but I decided it was easier to agree with her than admit my hound dog sniffing act had nothing to do with the coffee.

This place does have a lot going for it.

You’re so committal, Van.

Sure I was, as in non-committal. That lack of commitment had ultimately landed me out here in the boonies. I tapped Constance’s knee with mine to get her attention.

Is the meet on for after the show?

She nodded over the rim of her coffee cup. Yep. We’re to go to the producer’s office and wait, if necessary. He and the director will be there as soon as they can. I told them you might have to get back to the city.

Oh, great. Lie to them right off the bat. One thing about Constance—the possible repercussions of tempting fate didn’t keep her awake at night.

"It’s an out for you, silly. You can always tell me I have the dates mixed up on my calendar, and your...whatever... is next weekend."

I don’t play games like that, Constance. I’ve told you that several times, and I meant it every time. Now be the agent I need you to be and stay straight with these people.

She snorted softly, her words holding amusement, not sting. Straight. That’s a good one, coming from you.

Relieved she didn’t want to argue over her techniques, I kept our banter light. You’re just jealous because I get more men than you do.

Damn right, I am. Okay, Van, I’ll tell them you can be in town a few days, if necessary.

Thank you. I needed a job. Performing was my drug, and I’d been without it for far too long. The lights dimmed, saving me from further conversation.

The second half of the production was even better than the first. I laughed along with everyone else and applauded when the curtain closed. Constance was eager to move me along backstage, but I resisted until the man in front of me stood.

I’d been correct about his height and now, in brighter light, noted his pale blue eyes. He retrieved his jacket and draped it over his elbow, his long fingers stroking the leather.

So he was tactile, was he? I liked the feel and texture of fine things, too. My fingertips itched to stroke his dark five o’clock shadow and see if it were bristly or soft. He stopped at the end of the row and allowed Constance and me to precede him. Naturally, the woman had to stop at the ladies’ room. I found a section of wall to lean against while I waited for her. People strolled past, not giving me a second look.

My agent reappeared, finally, and we wove our way through the crowd. I kept my hand on the small of her back, propelling her safely along. No one stopped us as we stepped through a side door and walked back the dimly lit hallway, following the sound of voices. Determined to be a gentleman, I paused and allowed her to enter the room first. Friendly faces greeted us, and among them, the leather jacket toting hottie who had sat in front of me. He nodded politely, but I saw more than a professional interest in his gaze.

Well, well, well. Mr. Gorgeous was gay.

He probably had a partner, living so far out in the middle of nowhere. I doubted St. Charles had an active gay scene...another reason for me to spend some time here. I couldn’t afford to be seen out and about with any man, be he gay or straight, while trailing the obnoxious paparazzi in my wake. St. Charles felt like a temptation-free zone to me.

Well, except for him. He was definitely tempting, but I had to do the smart thing, which was to take a pass and stay the hell out of trouble. Besides, he was young, probably not a day over twenty-five.

A middle-aged fellow in dress jeans and a sports coat stood and extended his hand. I grasped it, squeezing with the proper amount of equal pressure.

Welcome to The Globe in the Grove, Donovan. I’m Phil Albright, producer. Call me Phil. We’re not very formal here, backstage. He turned and gestured at the other two men. "Our jack-of-all-trades and director, Bob Jones, and Shane Hollister, our number one assistant and