Blue Moon

By GA Hauser

In this ‘historical’ novel from the era of 1960s, we find two men, similar in appearance, becoming good friends while living in Naples, Italy.
Young Antonio Merchante was sent to school in Naples by his father, a wealthy shipping magnate living in Los Angeles, who lost his wife in childbirth.
Marcel Roccini, met Antonio and fell in love with him, attaching himself to the rich American, in hopes of being loved in return.
After a tragic event, where Antonio dies, Marcel tries to assume his identity, needing money, and the promise of a family, one he has never had.
But, it doesn’t take long for Marcel to be suspect, and discovered as a fraud.
Yet, all is not lost for Marcel, who finds the love of his life, just once in a blue moon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GA Hauser
• Release date: May 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005969509

GA Hauser

About the AuthorAuthor G.A. Hauser is from Fair Lawn, New Jersey, USA. She attended university at The Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC, and has a BA in Fine Art from William Paterson College in Wayne NJ where she graduated Cum Laude. As well as degrees in art, G.A. is a Graduate Gemologist from the Gemological Institute of America (GIA). In 1994 G.A. graduated the Washington State Police academy as a Peace Officer for the Seattle Police Department in Washington where she worked on the patrol division. She was awarded Officer of the Month in February 2000 for her work with recovering stolen vehicles and fingerprint matches to auto-theft and bank robbery suspects. After working for the Seattle Police, G.A. moved to Hertfordshire, England where she began to write full length gay romance novels. Now a full-time writer, G.A. has penned over 200 novels and short stories. Breaking into independent film, G. A. was the executive producer for her first feature film, CAPITAL GAMES which included TV star Shane Keough in its cast. CAPITAL GAMES had its Film Festival Premiere at Philly's Qfest, and its television premiere on OutTV. G.A. is the director and executive producer for her second film NAKED DRAGON, which is an interracial gay police/FBI drama filmed in Los Angeles with the outstanding cinematographer, Pete Borosh. (also the Cinematographer for Capital Games)The cover photographs of G.A.'s novels have been selected from talented and prolific photographers such as Dennis Dean, Dan Skinner, Michael Stokes, Tuta Veloso, Hans Withoos, and CJC Photography, as well as graphic comic artist, Arlen Schumer. Her cover designs have featured actors Chris Salvatore, Jeffery Patrick Olson, Tom Wolfe, and models Brian James Bradley, Bryan Feiss, Jimmy Thomas, Andre Flagger, among many others.Her advertisements have been printed in Attitude Magazine, LA Frontier, and Gay Times.G. A. has won awards from All Romance eBooks for Best Author 2009, Best Novel 2008, Mile High, Best Author 2008, Best Novel 2007, Secrets and Misdemeanors, and Best Author 2007.G.A. was the guest speaker at the SLA conference in San Diego, in 2013, where she discussed women writing gay erotica and has attended numerous writers’ conventions across the country.

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BLUE MOON

By

G.A. HAUSER

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2022

BLUE MOON

Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2022

ISBN Trade paperback: 979-8449-1826-2-3

© The G.A. Hauser Collection

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WARNING

This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Please store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by underage readers.

First The G.A. Hauser Collection publication:

May 2022

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Chapter 1

Naples, Italy 1960

Marcel Roccini found himself in the company of a very charming man. The outdoor café was busy with tourists and locals, meeting up for a card game or cup of smooth cappuccino.

Marcel kept his eye on Antonio Merchante, an American with exotic tastes in cars, women, and cuisine.

Antonio, Maria Avici crooned as she tried to keep the distracted man’s attention. Maria was all of fifteen, and no doubt her mother didn’t know what she was up to.

Antonio waved to the waiter, shouting, Enough coffee, where is the wine?

Maria tittered with laughter, trying to sit on Antonio’s lap. He doesn’t understand you! Speak Italian!

Marcel drank the cooling espresso, wondering if Maria was going to achieve her goal of getting Antonio alone. She’d been trying to get into his trousers all morning.

Just as Marcel began to feel like an intruder, Antonio touched his cheek, getting his attention. What do you feel like doing today, Marcel?

Anything, as long as it’s with you.

I told you, Antonio, Marcel’s in love with you. Maria shot him a mischievous smile.

Antonio grabbed the waiter’s arm. Wine. Enough coffee, he said in Italian.

Yes, sir, the waiter acknowledged him.

Marcel heard yelling so he spun on the chair to see two men leaning out of their convertible cars, shaking fists at each other. The street was narrow, too narrow for both cars to pass.

The autumn sky was bright blue on the coast and fishing boats were docked in the harbor.

A bottle of wine was brought to Antonio. He read the label and accepted it. As the new bottle was opened, and stemmed glasses placed on their small round bistro table, Maria managed to climb onto Antonio’s lap. He and Antonio were just twenty, the same age.

Both had bright blue eyes, dark brown hair, and high cheekbones. They were the same height, almost the same weight.

While Antonio drank the wine around Maria, who had claimed the stunning American with her arm wrapped around his neck, Marcel studied Antonio’s movements, his mannerisms. He admired him so.

The American. He was so cocky. So sure of himself.

He removed cash from his pocket, a wad of lira. Antonio never was short on cash.

Maria went to drink from Antonio’s stemmed glass. He drew it away from her. You’re not old enough. Go ask your father.

Oh! Maria swatted Antonio. Old enough! You wouldn’t say no to me in your bed.

Marcel sipped the wine and noticed a dog sniffing near the feet of the café’s patrons. Someone gave it a crust from bread.

Seagulls dipped into the sea, scooping up entrails from fishing boats.

We need to escape. Antonio left cash on the table and held the wine bottle by the neck. I’m bored here. Let’s take a drive.

Maria was placed on her feet, and straightened her skirt and top, taking a kerchief from her pocketbook.

Marcel stood from the metal bistro chair.

Antonio put his arm around his neck and shook him playfully. And what will you do?

I’m not invited?

Oh, Antonio, Maria said, pouting, Let him come. He so admires you. Look into his sad eyes.

Marcel laughed at Maria trying to get him included.

You two. You are peas in a pod, she said as she tied the kerchief into her long black hair. I would say you are brothers, but then you’d have to be twins.

Antonio drew Marcel into an embrace, studying his features. You do look like me. Perhaps we’re brothers separated at birth.

Perhaps. Perhaps our papa can give me some of my inheritance. Marcel lost himself in Antonio’s blue eyes.

Oh, yes. He is a very generous man. Antonio gave Marcel the wine bottle and clasped Maria’s hand.

Marcel followed them to Antonio’s sports car. A red Ferrari 250 GT LWB convertible. It seated two. Usually.

Antonio hopped over the door to sit in the driver’s seat. Marcel sat beside him, and Maria on top of Marcel.

The sleek car engine revved, and Antonio hit the gas with a lead foot, making them jerk in the leather seats. He hugged the curves of the narrow, cobbled streets, scattering pigeons and avoiding pedestrians.

The wind from their speed blew his hair and Maria’s kerchief. She laughed and seemed to like the daring thrill ride.

Antonio sped around hairpin turns, passing slower vehicles. At twenty, he and Antonio hadn’t a care in the world.

At least Antonio didn’t.

Marcel was always wondering where his next meal was going to come from.

The crazy American wound his way closer to the sea, and parked the sports car on a cliff. He kept the radio on, blasting Domenico Modugno and Bobby Solo.

Maria inched closer to him, still trying to get into Antonio’s pants.

Antonio cupped the back of her head and kissed her.

Marcel tried not to watch.

But of course he did. He ran his hand over Maria’s thigh and she kept knocking it off as her lips were occupied.

She wanted him there, then she didn’t.

She was like that.

Marcel went to open the passenger’s door to get out. Antonio held him by his shoulder, while kissing Maria.

Marcel climbed over the door, releasing himself from the confines of the car.

He will fall off a cliff for you, Antonio. Maria watched him.

Marcel turned to look at Antonio. Antonio stuck a cigarette into his mouth and lit it with a lighter, then stared at him.

Marcel climbed down the cliff, his rubber soles gripping the smooth stones. The water was rough under him, splashing the rocky shore. Birds dipped and soared on the crisp wind as the sky turned dimmer to evening.

The horn honked and startled him.

Marcel turned to look. Maria was laughing at him and Antonio with his steely gaze, was smoking, also watching him.

Maria yelled, We will leave you here!

Go! Marcel shouted.

Antonio flicked his cigarette away and yelled, Come, Marcel! We’re not through with you yet.

Everything made Maria laugh.

Marcel climbed the rockface back to the car. He stood near the passenger’s side and Antonio drew Maria towards him while Marcel climbed back into the car.

Before he was even sitting, Antonio backed up, making him fall forwards into the windshield. He slid down into the bucket seat and Maria sat on his lap. Every time Marcel tried to touch her inner thigh, Maria brushed his hand off.

Antonio raced down the winding mountain road, singing to the music on the radio.

In another village near Naples, Antonio pulled his car next to a different restaurant. Live music was coming from a local tavern, echoing in the narrow streets.

You need to go home, Antonio said to Maria, Your mother will be worried.

I don’t care. I want to be with you.

Antonio kissed her and smiled. I will walk you home.

He climbed out of the car without opening the side door. He said to Marcel, I’ll be only a moment.

Marcel nodded and stayed in the passenger’s seat.

Antonio picked Maria up, out of the car, and landed her on the street. He held her hand as he walked her to her mother’s home.

He’s in love with you, Maria said, smiling like an imp.

Antonio shrugged, looking at the old women hanging laundry to dry on the lines. Children raced by, kicking a ball.

Why do you let Marcel tag along? She swung his hand, their fingers intertwined.

You do not like him?

I like him. I just think he’s interested in something from you.

He’s harmless. Antonio leaned Maria’s back against the stucco wall of her home. A tiny apartment with views of an alley. He touched her chin. I need to go.

You will come back tomorrow? She hugged him.

Tomorrow? Antonio tapped his cheek.

Oh! You’re so mean! She whacked his chest. Good night.

Good night. He watched her enter the house, hearing her mother ask her where she’d been all day. Smiling to himself, Antonio returned to the bistro, seeing Marcel in his car. He walked closer to the passenger’s side and lit a cigarette. What shall we do now, Marcel? Hmm?

Anything you want.

Who’s paying for our entertainment? Antonio blew out a smoky breath.

You are.

Come, you horrible leech, let’s find some dinner and live music. After taking only a few puffs, Antonio crushed out the cigarette as Marcel climbed out of the low-slung sports car, using him like a brace.

I’m not a leech. Marcel held him around his waist.

You don’t contribute. Antonio looked around the patio for an open table.

I can’t. I have no money. I don’t have a rich father.

Antonio gestured to a table, silently asking the host’s permission. He was given a nod. Antonio sat at the small table, one on a deck with a spectacular view of the sea. Boats were moored in the bay, lit up like floating baskets.

Where is the wine? Antonio asked Marcel.

I left it in the car.

Well? Go get it.

Marcel hopped up and jogged towards the street.

Antonio looked at the menu while he was gone. He told the waiter, in Italian, We have wine. Bring two glasses and bread.

Yes, sir.

Antonio noticed two women staring at him, flirting. He smiled. He tapped a cigarette out of a pack and lit it, knowing the flame illuminated his face in the dark. He made sure they got a good look.

They were older, nearer thirty. A good age to play. Maria? Not a good age. Fifteen and too immature for anything more than flirting.

The older woman, the one with flowing long black hair, held up her glass to him.

Antonio gave her an inviting smile.

Marcel returned, breathless, with the bottle. Immediately he spied the two women. He sat with Antonio and set the bottle on the table. You don’t take long.

Life’s short. Antonio sat back as the waiter brought two wine glasses and a bottle opener. It’s already open. Pour for us.

Bread was placed on the table, and the waiter filled their two glasses with red wine.

Antonio waved him off and held up his glass in a toast to the two women. I will have the raven-haired beauty.

Marcel looked at them. You can have them both. They’ll fight over you.

Antonio tore a chunk of bread and ate it, chewing as he stared at the women.

Marcel watched the pro in action. Mimicking Antonio’s movements, his expressions, Marcel imagined Antonio a master of all, and tried to be exactly like him.

The waiter returned. Are you ready to order?

Soon.

Marcel saw the disappointment in the older man, and sipped the red wine. Antonio crushed his cigarette out in an ashtray on the table and stood from his chair. As he approached the two women, Marcel kept alert to his every action.

Antonio’s voice was smooth, his Italian with that American accent made women swoon. He was muscular, bright-eyed, dark skinned, with dark hair.

Marcel mimed his movements behind Antonio’s back. Since it appeared Antonio was joining the women at their table, Marcel stood from his chair and walked closer.

Antonio glanced up at him. Oh, this is my shadow, Marcel.

What a handsome shadow you have, Antonio. One of the women smiled at him.

Come join us, Marcel, the second woman said.

Thank you. He scurried back for the bottle, the wineglass, and his chair. Trying not to drop things, Marcel struggled to be charming, and imagined he looked idiotic.

Antonio was already nibbling the brunette’s fingers.

A waiter approached and Antonio said, Bring us some cioppino, and more bread.

Marcel cleared his throat and tried to tame his hair, brushing it away from his eyes.

And what do you do, Marcel? the fair-haired one asked as her friend became occupied.

Nothing. I do nothing.

I vouch for him, Antonio said while fondling the dark-haired woman’s fingers. He does nothing.

If I had a rich father, I’d do nothing, but with lots of money, like you. Marcel sipped his wine.

A rich father? the brunette asked.

In America.

Where in America?

Los Angeles.

Marcel looked towards the harbor at the boats shifting from the tide movements. The Amalfi Coast was picturesque, like those postcards you send home.

What brings you to Italy?

After middle-school my widowed father shipped me off to school here. I was sixteen? Fifteen?

You poor thing.

Marcel sat up. I don’t have a mother or a father.

Antonio offered a cigarette to the women. His brunette took one. Antonio lit it in his own mouth, and then transferred it to hers.

You’re an orphan? the fair-haired beauty asked with her tongue in her cheek.

Yes.

You two look alike. A strange similarity. The brunette blew out smoke in a stream.

He’s looking more like me every day. Antonio smoked his cigarette between sips of wine. He’s wearing my clothing.

I think he’s enamored with you.

I didn’t get your name. Antonio flicked the ash.

"Lucille, and this