Readers looking for a charming and romantic collection of romances where love knows no boundaries will be drawn to these seven stories from some of today's best authors. Keep reading to get a tempting glimpse of the romantic tales of the collection How We Began and then add it to your bookshelf. To celebrate this collection make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win a $25 Amazon GC too!
How does love begin? A glance, a gesture, an unexpected offer of help from a stranger…or from a good friend. A smile across a counter at a coffee shop or video store. A secret revealed in a song from another place and time. Or in a love ballad crooned at a high school dance.
In this anthology of never-before-published sweet LGBTQ+ stories, seven authors (Alexis Hall, Amy Jo Cousins, Annabeth Albert, Delphine Dryden, Edie Danford, Geonn Cannon, Vanessa North) explore the beginnings of love between young and new adult couples. All proceeds will support The Trevor Project’s work with crisis intervention and suicide prevention for LGBTQ+ youth.
EXCERPT FROM First in Line by Annabeth Albert.....
I blame my mom’s suitcase. I knew it was a terrible idea to use luggage older than I was, but the dingy navy case with a weird mauve stripe and ominously bulging zipper was the biggest we had in the house, and my folks sure as heck weren’t springing for something new for me to take to Cathia University. It teetered precariously on three good wheels as I dragged it behind me, the cracked handle cutting into my palm as I navigated the steps to Grubbs Hall.
I’d picked up my keycard moments earlier in front of the dorm. The wait at the “R-Z” portion of the keycard line was nothing compared to what I was likely in for in the dorm’s lobby. The crowd around the elevators was big and loud—couldn’t squeeze a strand of hay between all the freshmen, their parents, grandparents, and assorted siblings. The Cathia
admissions folks had sent out a letter three weeks earlier with a schedule of staggered move-in times, but judging by the overflowing lobby, nobody had read the letter.
Everyone else was in groups—dads lugging huge footlockers and mini-fridges, moms carrying armfuls of bedding, younger siblings wheeling sleek black suitcases that made me want to shove mine behind me. On the lone bench in the lobby, two men sat with a blond girl who looked like she was around my age. Her sweatshirt said “Dance Team” under a large logo for a Massachusetts high school. What intrigued me more were the men she was with. Both were aparental sort of age. The taller one had a cane leaning against one leg, military-short black hair, and a stiff way of sitting that reminded me of my dad’s ex-army buddies. The other guy was way shorter, with a beer gut and a full head of graying curly hair. He talked animatedly as he motioned for the other two to lean in for a selfie. Neither man looked a thing like the girl. Were they related to her? The way they put their arms around her—beefy hands gripping her thin shoulders—made it seem that way. One of them must be her dad. Or maybe both of them? The military guy laughed and the other one touched his arm. They sat a bit closer than I’d ever risk, even with a good friend.
“Excuse us.” A family with twin redheaded jocks in Cathia football T-shirts cut in front of me, interrupting my little stare fest. When the jocks passed, though, my gaze went straight back to the bench. The two men and the girl were getting up, the shorter guy helping the taller one to his feet and handing him the cane. The way he hovered confirmed my guess—definitely a couple.
Warmth spread from my chest to my neck and all the way up to the tips of my ears. This.This was what I had left Ashwood behind to see. Two men, normal as a pot of rice, depositing their kid at college. Just another day in America, and yet it was so far outside my reality I had to take a minute and breathe.
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