Title: Boys Don’t Cry
Author: J.K. Hogan
Publisher: J.K. Hogan
Release Date: May 25th 2017
Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 70,000 words
Genre: Romance
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Synopsis:
Mackenzie Pratt is having the worst luck of his life. His apartment building is being torn down, and since he’s jobless and just weeks away from graduating college, he can’t find anywhere else he can afford to live that isn’t a critter-infested dump. As he’s lamenting the very real possibility of job hunting while couch-surfing, he gets an offer from the coworker of his best friend.
An in-demand mobile app developer and heir to his parents’ fortune, Laurent Beaudry is literally an eccentric billionaire. Even though Mackenzie realizes he’s basically living the plot of a cheesy romance novel, he takes the proffered room in Laurent’s Baltimore mansion. He finds his new housemate to be grumpy, brooding, and, at times, incredibly kind and endearing.
Raised by his brother after their father’s death, Mackenzie spent his formative years plowing headlong through school, focusing on little else beyond earning his teaching certification. He’s never taken the time to explore love and relationships, much less sexuality, so when he finds himself being courted by another man, he has no idea what to do. And when he realizes he might actually return those feelings, his life takes a whole new direction.
Excerpt:
The house was dark so I couldn’t see much, but what I could see was immaculate, contrary to what Taylor had said. The hardwood floors gleamed in the moonlight, the furniture looked expensive and perfect, and there wasn’t a dirty dish or dust bunny in sight. “I thought you said it was a sty,” I whispered.
“Oh, this? Not this. He only uses a fraction of the house, the suite with his bedroom, living room, library, and office. All of this is just for show,” he said with a sweeping gesture toward the big empty parlor we were facing. “And why are you whispering? He knows I’m coming.”
“I don’t know. It seems so quiet and…undisturbed.”
Taylor’s chuckle had an evil ring to it. “You want disturbed? Follow me.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. “Mr. Beaudry! It’s me, Taylor. Morrison. From Mindstream. The place you work.”
He made his way down a dark corridor with me dogging his heels. “He doesn’t remember who you are? Where he works?”
“Oh, he knows. But when he’s been staring at code for hours on end and not sleeping, sometimes basic stuff slips his mind. Details like that can be hard for geniuses like him.”
Genius? I didn’t think I’d ever heard that term used to sincerely describe someone. “What does he do again?”
“He’s a mobile app developer. Highly sought after, but right now he works exclusively for us. That was a huge coup for the company.” He stopped in front of a heavy, ornately carved door made of some kind of dark hardwood. He rapped his knuckles on it three times before barging on in, while I hovered in the doorway.
So this was the suite. Taylor had been right. What a mess. We stood in what I assumed was the living room, but it was hard to tell because every available surface was covered in wrinkled clothing, pizza boxes, and empty dishes. A huge fireplace was installed in the far wall, surrounded by shelves and shelves of books. More books than I’d ever seen in one place outside a library. The fire blazed in the hearth, and I was honestly surprised there wasn’t any garbage close enough to it to catch fire. As beautiful as the house was, the mess made my skin crawl. I usually lived in shitty apartments, so I was a bit of a neat freak to balance the universe.
“Beaudry? You in here?” Taylor called. There was no answer. “He must be in the bedroom suite.” He headed to a door on the left, like it was no big deal.
“Wait! You’re just going to barge into the guy’s bedroom?”
Pausing in his tracks, Taylor looked over his shoulder. “This is no ordinary bedroom. Just because there’s a bed in the corner doesn’t mean it’s some intimate setting. It’s just a giant workspace.” With that parting shot, he burst through the door, once again calling the man’s name.
Trembling from too much alcohol and not enough nerve, I stepped inside the room. I was stunned speechless by the scene before me. Taylor had one thing right—it was no ordinary bedroom. It was the size of three average rooms lined up in a row and probably had double the square footage of the apartment I was getting booted out of. There was indeed a bed, a California king canopy bed off in one corner of the room. A fire was blazing in this suite as well, only I realized that it was the same fire in the same fireplace, which apparently connected the two rooms.
Taylor stood next to what had to be the man’s workspace. There was a giant U-shaped desk adorned with four widescreen computer monitors and various other gadgets typical of an office. However, on one leg of the U, there was a collection of what looked to be every tablet, PDA, smartphone, and any other mobile device known to man. I supposed he had to test his software on each gizmo that was likely to employ it.
Behind the office area was a ginormous TV screen—at least seventy inches—that looked like it would be more at home in a movie theater. Several fluffy couches were set up in a semicircle facing it. It would be amazing to have a movie marathon in this place. And of course, there was every gaming console imaginable to go along with the screen yardage. But…despite all the cool stuff, there was some very weird stuff about the place as well. Besides the office setup and the movie area, all the furniture in the suite looked like it had been bought from a garage sale at Versailles. It was expensive-looking, obviously, but very gilded and frilly. There were also several racks flanking the giant TV that displayed the man’s sword collection.
And then, the murals. The murals were creepy. On at least a couple of the walls above the wainscoting, there were huge, garish wall paintings of nudes in various scenes. Men and women, sometimes in sexual situations, sometimes just hanging out or whatever. But they weren’t like Renaissance or fine art nudes or anything; they seemed to be done by just some random modern artist. I had no idea how the guy could manage to look at them all day every day. Though if it weren’t for those, I’d never leave a place like this either. Speaking of the guy, though, there was no sign of him.
“Where is he?” I was whispering again. It just seemed like the thing to do when you snuck into someone’s bedroom at night. Not that we were really sneaking, but still.
As if in answer to my question, we heard a toilet flush, and a door to my right that I hadn’t even noticed swung open, startling me. The person who came through was pretty much just as unbelievable as the house he lived in. He was tall—very tall—and lanky, but with wide shoulders and well-defined musculature. His hair was just a little too long, like maybe he’d forgotten his last couple of haircuts, and very dark, shot through with a tiny bit of gray. It had to be premature because I doubted he was much more than ten years older than me. His facial features—though thrown in deep shadow because of the low light in the room—were chiseled and angular, too handsome to be fair to the rest of the world. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his straight nose, slightly askew. Despite the handsomeness, he had dark circles under his eyes and frown lines around his mouth, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. And he was wearing Angry Birds pajamas.
When he saw me, his deep-set blue eyes widened and he flinched like I’d snuck up on him. “Who the hell are you?”
I let out a squeaky gasp and backed away toward Taylor because the guy looked fucking scary when he turned on the full force of that scowl.
“Jesus Christ, Beaudry, relax,” Taylor said. He picked up his briefcase and pulled out a legal-size envelope. “This is my friend Mackenzie. I was driving him home, and I just popped in to drop off these contracts from Harrelson.”
Beaudry grunted and crossed the room to sit at his desk. He waved a hand in the vague direction of a stack of shelves. “Just put them in the inbox. I’ll deal with them later.”
“If you look them over now, I can take back any questions or return them…”
He glared at Taylor over his shoulder, and Taylor wisely shut his mouth. Then the man’s gaze settled on me. It wasn’t the scowl he’d given me earlier, but it wasn’t exactly a…nice expression either. It was more of an assessing glare than anything. “Welcome to Chatham House, Mackenzie. What do you think?” he asked.
I had no idea what he meant. What did I think of the house? The room? Him? “It’s…impressive. The artwork is…unusual.”
He let out a belting laugh that I hadn’t been expecting, so I jumped, but then the rich baritone of it made my toes curl. It was an odd reaction, as I wasn’t usually affected by such things.
“Unusual is a kind way of putting it. The artwork came with the house, along with much of the furniture. I just haven’t gotten around to redecorating.”
“Oh, that’s…” . “How long have you lived here, then?”
Beaudry turned back to his computer and began typing furiously. “About five years,” he answered without turning back around.
I choked on air, and Taylor snorted. “I think by ‘haven’t gotten around to it,’ you mean ‘just don’t give a shit,’” he muttered.
“Touché, Mr. Morrison. Is there anything else you need?”
Taylor sighed, probably realizing that the man was not going to look at whatever was in the envelope while we were still there to relay any messages back to Mindstream. He clamped a hand around my wrist and started dragging me toward the door. “All right, we’re going. Remember, drinks at the King’s Shield next Friday.”
“I don’t think I’m going to be—”
Taylor spoke right over Beaudry’s muttering. “You already said you would. No backsies. I can pick you up.”
“I think I’d enjoy driving my shiny Lotus instead, but thank you very much for the offer,” Beaudry growled. “Nice meeting you, Mack,” I heard him call through the open door.
“Nickname basis already?” I laughed to Taylor.
“That has nothing to do with nicknames and everything to do with your name being too long for him to remember.”
“I heard that, Morrison!”
My Review:
Boys Don’t Cry by J.K. Hogan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Boys Don’t Cry (ARC) was graciously provided to me by IndiGo for an honest review.
“Batman’s Love For Robin…”
I absolutely loved this book. I love, love, loved it.. I can also honestly say, that, I don’t think I’ve come across a book, in a long time, if not ever, that could be compared to Boys Don’t Cry. I adored Mackenzie and Laurant. And, quite frankly, still do..*blushing* I’ve been struggling for days to try to come up with the most perfect way to accurately describe what has been running through my mind regarding this special book. The only thing that I can come up with is..I LOVED this book. Let me explain why I have been left practically speechless…
Boys Don’t Cry , by J.K. Hogan, is a stunningly beautiful story filled with layers of determination, heart ache, compassion, empathy, humor, kindness, self-discovery, and..love. That bone-seeping, need to grab and hold onto a person kind of love.. That is one powerful kind of love. It’s a story that filled me with so many emotions, that, I didn’t want it to end. It’s a story about the selfless love of one individual, Mackenzie Pratt, and, how he naturally nurtured and guided a delicately strong, lonely, and brilliant individual..Laurant Beaudry into simply..being..*sigh*
Mackenzie Pratt is a beautiful, kind-hearted man who is like a ray of sunshine with one of the greatest personalities as well. He is a breath of fresh air, all the while consistently coming across bad luck, which in turn, had him in dire straits. The end result of all of that was so staggering, that, I just wanted to give him a never-ending supply of four-leaf clovers just to help him. As if answering fate’s call, in walks..Batman. His Batman. Laurant Beaudry is a beautiful mystery, and, my heart broke for him. The delicacies of his past are shrouded by his brilliant strength. He’s like a delicate little boy but in a man’s body. As Mackenzie finds himself needing help, and, as an answer to his silent prayers, Laurant graciously opens up his protective mansion for..Mackenzie. Unbeknownst to both of them, this kind gesture would open themselves up for something they hadn’t expected, but, both very much wanted, and, so very desperately needed…
The existence and progression of the overall storyline, aka this unforeseen friendship, was natural and heart-warming. Even though the story was told in first person, which is rare for me to come across, it was done perfectly. As I briefly have mentioned already, as I read, my emotions were put through the gamut, because the connection with the main characters was perfect. I found myself fluctuating, throughout the book, between immediately tearing up as a result of the first three words, first-three-words, to hand-over-mouth-giggle-tears, to laugh-snorting, to bouncing in excitement, to melting, to absolutely bawling.. I was exhausted. But..I loved it.
As far as the secondary characters are concerned, wow. Can I call future books? This book was choc full of yumminess from not only the primary, but also, the secondary characters, who I loved, as well. All were written with such a naturalness, that I had frequently envisioned myself as part of their dialogue.
Was this book absolutely perfect? No. Regardless of coming across some very minor editing issues, the need for more exploration of certain scenes, and just more of an ending, it didn’t really make a difference in the whole spectrum of it all. It all worked for me. One thing that *achem* really worked for me..were the HOT and SIZZLING sex scenes. I mean..HELLO! They were *achem*..really good.
Boys Don’t Cry , is a story about an unwavering love, that has you wanting to wrap yourself completely around the other person to allow your loving warmth to radiate into the other person, who desperately needs it, in more ways than one. It’s a story about allowing one’s heart to guide oneself with that incredible need to not only help but also to reach out for someone else. I am floored by how much I loved reading this book, and, have no doubt that I will be re-reading it again very, very soon. 🙂
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Meet the Author:
J.K. Hogan has been telling stories for as long as she can remember, beginning with writing cast lists and storylines for her toys growing up. When she finally decided to put pen to paper, magic happened. She is greatly inspired by all kinds of music and often creates a “soundtrack” for her stories as she writes them. J.K. is hoping to one day have a little something for everyone, so she’s branched out from m/f paranormal romance and added m/m contemporary romance. Who knows what’s next?
J.K. resides in North Carolina, where she was born and raised. A true southern girl at heart, she lives in the country with her husband and two sons, a cat, and two champion agility dogs. If she isn’t on the agility field, J.K. can often be found chasing waterfalls in the mountains with her husband, or down in front at a blues concert. In addition to writing, she enjoys training and competing in dog sports, spending time with her large southern family, camping, boating and, of course, reading! For more information, please visit www.jkhogan.com.
Interview with J.K. Hogan, author of Boys Don’t Cry
If you could travel forward or backward in time, where would you go and why?
I’d jump forward 8 years. I think you know why…
We’ve all got a little voyeurism in us right? If you could be a fly on the wall during an intimate encounter between two characters, not your own, who would they be?
Anyone who knows me could tell you the answer: Yuri and Victor.
If you don’t know, google it. You’re welcome. 😉
If I were snooping around your kitchen and looked in your refrigerator right now, what would I find?
Blue Apron meals *shrugs* My fridge isn’t that interesting.
If you could be a superhero, what would you want your superpowers to be?
Flying and invisibility. (maybe I have more than a little voyeurism in me?)
If you could trade places with one of your characters, who would it be and why?
I mean, I wouldn’t mind being Mackenzie (Boys Don’t Cry) for a while. I mean he does live with a hunky billionare…
If you could sequester yourself for a week somewhere and just focus on your writing, where would you go and what would the environment be like?
I’m not much for beaches or anything like that, so I’d probably say a little mountain cabin somewhere. Quiet, with a little bite to the air. No damn bikinis.
What’s the one thing, you can’t live without?
Coffee
What internet site do you surf to the most?
Tumblr
If you had your own talk show, who would your first three author guests be and why?
Brian Jacques, Peter Benchley, and Michael Crichton… but they’re all deceased, so I guess it wouldn’t be a very fun talk show. L Those guys are my favorite authors from the time I was old enough to start reading advanced books (though Jacques is middle grade), way before my romance days. I would’ve loved to pick their brains about their ideas. I met Jacques once and he was fabulous.
When you got your very first manuscript acceptance letter, what was your initial reaction and who was the first person you told?
I was floored and kind of disbelieving at first. I remember my husband was sleeping in the guest room which would’ve meant one of us was sick, but I don’t remember who. But I went in there and woke him up shouting about it at 3 am. I’m pretty sure he had no recollection of it because I had to tell him again later. lol
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