What Are AmberPax™ Collections?

Simply put, AmberPax™ Collections are groups of five stories centered around a specific theme. Each story within an AmberPax™ is released individually, on the same day as the others, and can be purchased separately, but these five stories can also be purchased as a single unit (the full AmberPax™) at a discount, currently 25%. Generally, an AmberPax™ is similar to an "anthology" of stories, but instead of the titles being released in only a single volume (file), they are also available individually. These AmberPax™ Collections are sold exclusively through our website and only in electronic format.

THIS BLOG is for news about the Pax Collections - follow it to keep up with releases, find early news of the upcoming collections, and share Pax fun and chat with the authors!

All Amber Paxes can be bought at Amber Quill HERE.

Friday, 8 May 2015

Wild Fragile Vines by Vivien Dean

When his boss’s twenty-year-old son announced he wanted to be more than friends, Tim Kammerling told him no. He wasn’t ready to have a relationship with someone more than ten years younger than him.

Devin, however, knew he couldn’t stick around Napa and honor the status quo. Instead, he left town, and he and Tim became long-distance friends.

Now, through the letters he’s kept over the years, clippings he’s collected, and the memories he’ll never shake, Tim stands on the threshold of a new beginning.

Yes, a lot can happen in eighteen years. Letters are sent. Calls get made. And lives are changed...

Genres: Gay/Contemporary/The Arts
Heat Level: 2
Length: Extended Amber Kiss (13k words) 

Read a short excerpt...

...The voices drifting from the living room are new. All of them are here by invitation, but his jumpy nerves mean they offer noise, not comfort. It would be different if they were at work. At the Mayer vineyards, people surround him, family, friends, coworkers. Everywhere he turns, someone is there with a smile or a word, unknowing anchors in the life he deliberately set out to create for himself. The first time he’d met Devin, for instance, he’d thought he was simply another pin in the pantheon.

But Devin is the perfect example of chaos theory in motion. If Tim had bothered to believe the stories he’d heard about the younger Mayer son when he was hired, he might have figured that out before it was too late.

Someone knocks at his door, and he shoves the box back into the drawer a fraction too hard. “Who is it?”

“Heidi. The water’s boiling on the stove. You want me to take care of it?”

“Yes, please.”

He remains frozen for several seconds, waiting for another query or commentary about what’s taking so long. Heidi means well—they all mean well—but he’s too on edge to face them yet. He’s not sure what could possibly go wrong, but he feels like a sapling caught in the middle of a wind tunnel. Only the irresponsible would plant something so fragile in the threat of destruction.

Call me irresponsible.

His fingers tighten on the drawer handle. No backing out. He’s already made that promise. He doesn’t have the desire to break it, except in the rare instance like this one where everything he thinks he’s known seems like a distant dream. He’s always been so careful. Meticulous, Mr. Mayer said after his first week of work. Pat had been less flattering when he took over, though it hadn’t been out of malice. Besides, even Tim can’t take a man seriously who uses the word “persnickety” without any sense of irony.

For Devin, he was the embodiment of heart and soul, but when Tim protested both the romantic connotation and the intent behind it, Devin refused to budge.

“You turned this place around.” Tim could still see the way the sunlight had found all the natural tawny highlights in Devin’s dark hair as they stood at the edge of the west field and gazed over the growing vines. “You love watching it all grow, and you’re willing to work crazy-ass hours to make it happen right. People see that. It inspires them to push themselves harder. You’re pumping out what it takes to make the machine work, and you do it out of love. If that’s not a real heart and soul, I don’t know what is.”

He’d dismissed Devin’s words as an artist’s fancy, proof of his musician’s soul, but they hadn’t disappeared as he expected. To this day, they linger. Devin might as well have written them down like his letters. Tim can’t forget any of those, either...

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