Saying goodbye is hard and closing out a series is like having the next door neighbors you’ve been friends with for ten years, move away. You wish them well, but you miss them terribly. I am going to miss Patrick, Ken, Connor, Dan, Arik, and Reg so very much. The world I built in northern Michigan has become so alive to me, even if the actual location if fictional.
I can see the main street of town and know that Ken’s home is on one of the quiet streets off the main road with a beautiful yard and an atmosphere dripping with creative juices. I can see him and Patrick standing out on the back deck, looking out over their little kingdom or in Ken’s studio where he’s settled Patrick into a chair for yet another portrait. I will be incredibly sad to see this world go, but I wish them all well and they will all live on in my memory as well as on my pages.
Title: Love Comes to Light
Author: Andrew Grey
Series: Senses Series
Genre: M/M, Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: March 18, 2016
Blurb: Artist Arik Bosler is terrified he might have lost his creative gift in the accident that left his hand badly burned. When he’s offered the chance to work with renowned artist Ken Brighton after winning a contest, Arik fears his injury will be too much to overcome.
He reluctantly travels to Pleasanton to meet Ken, where he runs into the intimidating Reg Thompson. Reg, a biker who customizes motorcycles, is a big man with a heart of gold who was rejected by most of his family. Arik is initially afraid of Reg because of his size, however it’s his heart that warms Arik’s interest and gets him to look past the exterior to let down his guard.
But Arik soon realizes that certain members of Reg’s motorcycle club are into things he can’t have any part of. Reg can’t understand why Arik disappears until he learns Arik’s injury was the result of his father’s drug activity. Though neither Reg nor Arik wants anything to do with drugs, the new leadership of Reg’s club might have other ideas.
Excerpt: “Arik, I’m glad you made it.” He set his palette aside and walked toward Arik, extending his hand. Arik hesitated, then pulled his right hand out of his pocket. He could tell instantly when Mr. Brighton noticed. He looked into Arik’s eyes, meeting his gaze straight on. That alone was different. So was the gentle, yet firm, way Ken gripped his damaged hand. “It’s good to meet you.”
Arik looked away. “I should explain. I really wanted to meet you, but I thought about calling to cancel because—” He looked down at his hand. “Well, I’m not an artist any longer. I was so thrilled when you called, and I wanted to meet you so badly, but… I probably shouldn’t waste your time.”
“Slow down. And please call me Ken.” He reached over, grabbed a stool, and moved it closer, motioning for him to sit. “Let’s take things one at a time. This is my partner, Patrick,” Ken said, and Arik extended his hand. Patrick nodded and shook it. “He isn’t able to speak because of an accident, but he’s very adept at other forms of communication.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Arik said, and Patrick smiled, his eyes warming even more. Patrick lightly patted Arik’s hand and then released it. Patrick then left the room, closing the studio door. “Like I said, I shouldn’t have come and wasted your time.”
Ken didn’t say anything, just walked to the corner of his studio and returned with a painting that Arik instantly recognized as his contest entry. “All of the entries were sold at a charity auction, and yours was the only one I bought. It spoke to me in a way that went right to my heart. I had to have it.”
“I did that a year ago….” He looked down at his hand and slid it back into his pocket. He hated seeing it.
“Your work is gorgeous and shows great talent,” Ken said.
“Well, it shows what I once had.”
Ken continued looking at the painting.
“That was my grandmother’s home,” Arik said. “The contest guidelines were for us to paint a memory. I chose a time when I was happiest. My grandmother had a house on the lake in Muskegon. There was a swing in the backyard under a tree, and she and I used to sit in it and she read me stories.”
“She must have been a gardener.”
Arik nodded. “She loved flowers and even bred roses. The purple ones and the orange ones in the picture are ones she bred herself. She loved the color, but I think she was after scent more than anything. I remember her always smelling like roses. They were her passion.”
“You didn’t put her in the picture,” Ken remarked.
Arik smiled. “She’s there.” He pointed to the row of color that disappeared along the side of the house. “She’s in those flowers. She told me once that after she was gone, she’d live on as long as someone grew her flowers.”
About the Author: Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation.
Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing) He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
For Other Works by Andrew Grey:
(Please Be Sure To Stop by His Website to See All of His Works)