Moon's Place

By Blake Allwood

Keaton Newhart is stuck in a dead end job, hates his apartment, and feels bullied by his overbearing parents. His life changes quickly, however, when he is bowled over by a very rambunctious and large puppy that escaped from his owner then extremely sexy local baseball star, Matthew Sexton.

 

Matthew knows his time to retire from baseball is just around the corner. After four years with his minor league team, The Firebirds, there's little chance of advancing to the majors; especially now that he had come out as gay. The only problem is, what was he going to do with his life now.

 

In this instant attraction romance, will Keaton and Matthew be able to navigate all the curve balls life throws at them, or will they let the currents of change keep them apart forever?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blake Allwood Publishing
• Release date: Nov 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781956727234

Blake Allwood

Blake Allwood was born in west TN, then moved to Kansas City MO after attending college in Lamoni, Iowa. He met his husband in 1995 and they officially married in 2015, once gay marriage was legalized. In 2017, he and his husband sold their home, purchased an RV and began traveling the country with their two dogs. Their travels provide the inspiration and settings for many of his novels. Typically, Blake can be found relaxing in the RV or by the fire with his laptop and their Jack Russell Terrier, Buddy, curled up between his legs demanding attention. Denver, their Siberian Husky mix is often asleep at his feet or playing tug of war with Blake's husband, Shaun.

Book preview

Titles by Blake Allwood:

Transitions Series

Aiden Inspired

Suzie Empowered

Bobby Transformed

By Chance Series

Love By Chance (1)

Another Chance With Love (2)

Taking A Chance For Love (3)

Big Bend Series

Love’s Legacy (1)

Love’s Heirloom (2)

Love’s Bequest (3)

Romantic Series

Romantic Renovations (1)

Romantic Rescue (2)

Romantic Recon (coming soon)

Coming Home Series

Tenacious

Novellas

Moon’s Place

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.

A special thank you to

Jo Bird

Renee Mizar

Ann Atwood

And of course, a big thank you to my husband who encourages me to keep going down these rabbit holes never knowing where I might end up.

Keaton

The death of a relative one adored wouldn’t normally be cause to party, but then, my great-grandma was no ordinary woman.

Moon River, or Granny Moon as we all called her, was a free-loving hippie, plain and simple. She’d been born an heiress, but she sure didn’t act like one, and I had the best memories of her. Saturday nights, she’d gather her five kids and the five men who’d fathered them around her like a mother hen gathering her chicks.

Although she’d shaken off her Catholic roots, neither she nor her progeny had shaken off the desire to procreate. Case in point: I’m one of fifty-one great-grandchildren.

As Granny Moon had instructed, after she died, we’d all gathered together days ago, partying, if you could really call sitting around singing old songs and drinking margaritas made from a mix, partying. She’d been crystal clear she wanted her sendoff to be a lively celebration, adding that anyone who didn’t participate would–in her words–not inherit a damned thing. That’d been Granny Moon in a nutshell, doing it her way, and in a way that gathered all of her chicks to the very last.

Granny Moon loved me, and like my cousins, that was indisputable. Despite that, I never expected to inherit anything from her. So, imagine my shock when Grandma rushed out of the room where they were reading the will, smiling at me from ear to ear.

Honey, I can’t believe it. I mean, she said she would, but you know Granny Moon, she’d say something, then forget.

Grandma, what’s going on? I asked, perplexed.

Honey, Granny Moon left you the groves, she said through a beaming smile.

What? As far as I knew, Granny Moon only owned a rundown shack down by one of the canals.

The land behind her house. Remember?

Sorta, I said perplexed, I had some vague memories of a grown-up jungle behind her house, but mainly I only had a working memory of her home. Of course, that’s cause mom wouldn’t let me go outside when I visited, saying she was scared of snakes or scorpions.

I know, I know. Grandma waved her hand in frustration. There was no love lost between my mom and her. She’d opposed Mom and Dad’s marriage, and apparently never warmed to her daughter-in-law, calling my mom a snooty bitch every time she mentioned her.

Well, you’ve inherited thirty acres. Her smile faded. I inherited the house. That old thing should be torn down. If you’re interested, I’ll sign the pit over to you.

I don’t understand. Shouldn’t it have gone to, well, anyone besides me? I threw my hands up in confusion.

No, baby, Granny Moon said you possessed the same spirit she did. The earth spoke to you. I know that sounds like hocus pocus, but she believed it, so she left her land to you. A tear slid down her cheek.

Well, okay, I said, touched by my grandma’s words. But, how am I attached to land I don’t remember ever seeing?

Grandma came over and sat down beside me. When you were little you used to run away anytime you could, and go exploring those old groves. It used to thrill Moon to no end.

That’s... well, that’s sweet. I said, the emotions of losing such a foundation stone in my heart wafting over me once again.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with land in the middle of Mesa, I said mostly to myself, then looked at my granddy, —but okay.

That’s the spirit, she said, jumping back up. I’ve got to finish all this inheritance bullshit. Maybe tomorrow we can drive to Granny Moon’s old place and see what mess we’re dealing with.

I stood and hugged her, the woman who’d practically raised me and spoiled me rotten when my mom thought I should be perfect. If it hadn’t been for Grandma, I’d have been screwed.

I’ve got tomorrow morning open, but then Mom and Dad want me to go to some fundraiser for the museum.

Sounds awful, Grandma said with a frown.

It will be, but I support the museum, so that’s something.

I guess. Okay, I’ll pick you up at seven. It’s best to get out early before the old people start shopping.

It amused me that Grandma, even in her fifties, still referred to the snowbirds, who gathered in Mesa over the winter, as old people. She wasn’t wrong. By eight, every street would be backed up with snowbirds on their daily shopping sprees.

With our plans made, Grandma went back to the reading of the will. I still didn’t fully understand why I’d inherited anything, but I felt an obligation to Granny Moon to at least check out the groves before deciding what to do. Grandma was right, though, the house was a dump. I’d never live there.

Matt

R emi, stay close, boy ! I yelled at my dog, who was running fifteen feet ahead of me.

He stopped, turned back, and galloped through the canal’s shallow water, then jumped out and ran up the bank, crashing into me and soaking my pants.

You’re such a klutz, you mangy mutt! I exclaimed, just as he rushed back into the canal.

As I crossed the bridge, I saw a man stumble into the canal. Seconds later, Remi reached him.

My first thought was the guy could be hurt. I picked up speed, determined to get there quickly. I arrived to see Remi bouncing off the man, repeatedly knocking him back into the water.

Remi, come here! I couldn’t help laughing as the man got to his feet, no longer in danger of being knocked back down by my rambunctious ten-month-old Labrador. Luckily, the guy was laughing.

Remi bounded happily up the bank and sat beside me, tongue hanging out, shaking with excitement and clearly proud he’d found a new friend.

Do you need help? I asked as the guy’s laughter subsided.

No, he said,