“The end of summer neared.” (page 1)

Welcome to Day One of the Forsaken Blogs, a preview blogging event for my twelfth novel, The Torch Forsaken.  Yes, the number of my published books will now neatly fit into an egg carton. Bliss is a very strange place for Chloe Stowe.

As per our normal repartee, I will provide you daily with a chapter title and a teeny-tiny excerpt to whet your whistle, and you will, in turn, read and enjoy. Of course, purchasing a copy of the book at the end of this repartee process would generate tremendous giggles and giddy grins on my part, but it is not necessary, required or expected.

Each blog will center on a theme laid out by either the title or that teeny-tiny excerpt. Feedback is always welcomed.

As the actual release day for The Torch Forsaken has yet to be narrowed down to anything more specific than “this week or next,” these blogs might roll right through the “big day.” If that does become the case, I hope you won’t mind and I hope you’ll keep reading.

Ok, enough of the preliminary chit-chat. Let’s get to the meat of the matter (minds out of the gutter, dear readers). I’m talking synopsis, back-cover blurb, sell-copy. I’m talking the aroma of fresh apple pies that lure you mouth-watering, stomach-growling into the kitchen. Well, eat up, my friends. Here’s the synopsis…

A young man waits for his lover under the shade of an ancient sprawling tree as the sun rises over Brazil. It is the end of summer. The earth is baked. Heat rises from the burnt cane fields as dawn floods the land.

Dimas Cabral and Alanyo Valermo are cane cutters in southern Brazil. Both in the mid-twenties, the men have spent their adult lives in debt bondage to a large sugarcane plantation located several hundred miles from Sao Paolo. The living conditions are despicable. The working conditions are worse. Their wages never reach their own hands. The money their long, taxing hours earn goes directly into the plantation bosss hands, a man who legally claims that the young workers families owe him a large financial debt. The fact that this is a lie doesnt matter when there is no proof of the truth.

Dimas and Alanyos time is short and there are ears everywhere. Their love must be made silently and fast.

As sweat soaks their bodies and orgasms rock their lost souls, the young men allow themselves one minute longer just to hold on to each other, to hold on to the only good thing in their lives…

This is their story.

Hmmm… You’re right. This one is a little different, a little meatier in all the best spots.

While it might be the end of summer for Dimas and Alanyo, it is only the beginning for you and me and The Forsaken Blogs.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe Stowe