Greetings Goodreaders! It's a big day! I have not one but two stories in charity anthologies that released today. Queer Cheer from the Bay Area Queer Writer's Association is out today with my reprinted story Let Me Stand Next To Your Fire and Midnight in the Renaissance Elevator has a brand new story called "You're Not There." The title comes from an old favorite Dead or Alive tune called Something In My House, but I digress... Here's a sneak peek at my story:


Brian
After twenty-five hours of travel, I was conflicted as to what I wanted to have first. A meal? A shower? A drink? When I arrived at the hotel in Portsmouth, where I’d be staying the next three nights, however, I had another desire front and center:
Social interaction with nonmilitary personnel.
I’d been stationed in Guam for three years, and as beautiful as it was there, I found myself longing for a change of scenery in more ways than one. Attending the retirement ceremony of one of my best friends was the perfect excuse for some shore leave, although it would have been nice if he’d been a Best Coast-er rather than making me travel six additional hours east to Virginia. Eight if you counted my layovers. Plural.
Eloy Paniagua had been one of my first buddies in boot camp, and despite following different paths in the service, we’d always managed to stay in touch. His wife and kids were like family to me, and I’d spent many bittersweet holidays with them, reminding me of what a loving relationship looked like when I had zero prospects of my own. He’d asked me to sing the National Anthem at his retirement ceremony, which was a huge honor. I’d done it for a few events, but this one was extra special.
Bottom line? I was happy to be here for him, but even happier to have me time.
Once I changed out of my uniform, of course. I hoped to make it through the lobby and up to my room without attracting too much attention. The front desk attendant warned me there was a rowdy convention using the hotel that weekend and that if I had any concerns, to please contact them right away.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I’d spent nearly half my life as a sailor. No one partied harder.
I accepted my key, threw my duffel over my shoulder, and prayed my dress uniform hadn’t been totally trashed by the travel. I hated ironing with a passion. If ever I needed a reason to retire, no more ironing would be it.
The bar was across a long walkway from the front desk and curiosity got the best of me as I passed. It appeared someone had vomited rainbows all over the place. Not just the clothing and decorations, but every third person wore brightly dyed hairstyles. Even a few beards and mustaches were adorned with vibrant shades.
Awesome.
I’d hated missing Pride in my hometown of San Francisco the past few years. Guam hosted a celebration, but I’d always ended up being on duty as Naval Special Warfare didn’t work around holiday schedules. Since DADT was no longer in effect, I’d joined several of my fellow sailors in coming out. It was important for the younger folks to have someone to look up to, and it was fun to punish the assholes with lower rank who wanted to get mouthy about it.
This was October, however, not Pride Month. So what were these folks here for?
I’d find out soon enough. I traipsed toward the elevators, and found a crowd waiting impatiently.
A woman with fuchsia hair made the sign of the cross with her fingers. “There’s no way I’m taking the haunted elevator! I swear the damn thing was possessed.”
“Remember last year? We missed the whole narrator event because we were stuck in it!”
There happened to be three elevators in the foyer and the group stood facing the wall with two. When the doors opened and folks stepped out, the group of about twenty piled into them and turned to wave me in.
“I’ll catch the next one,” I said. My duffel wouldn’t fit without getting up close and personal, and I was carrying so much travel funk on me. I couldn’t risk tarnishing these shiny happy people.
“But that one is—”
The doors shut and I was left alone. Waiting. I was ready to take the stairs. After sitting on my ass, a few flights wouldn’t hurt. I looked at my keycard envelope.
I was on the fourteenth floor.
“Not that many flights.”
I glanced toward the bar and salivated at the thought of an ice-cold beer. I hoped the kitchen was still open, though it was getting close to midnight. I’d probably have to resort to one of my protein bars. I was about to let loose a string of curses when the doors to the third elevator behind me opened with a clunk.
I turned and found it empty.
“How bad could it be?”
I heard shouts coming from the bar and hoped the party would still be going when I finished up in my room. I pushed my button and stepped back as the doors closed, one quickly, the other slowly.
“Weird.”
“Tell me about it. It’s missed my floor twice already.”
I spun around and backed against the wall.
I must have been tired to have missed a whole person in the elevator. To be fair, he was wearing a gold-colored long-sleeved tunic that blended with the brassy walls of the elevator and was fair-skinned with long blond hair. But there was no way I should have missed his smile.
He held up a hand. “Hi. Sorry to startle you. I’m Cole.”
That smile. Julia Roberts-level dazzling. I was caught in its tractor beam and couldn’t look away. If he laughed like her, I would be done for.
“Brian.”
“Brian, I’m guessing you aren’t here for the Queer Lit Extravaganza.”
“Not on purpose. But it looks like fun,” I hurried and added when his smile faded.
It was the right move. His already beautiful smile lit up like a spotlight.

I hope you'll check out these great anthologies at the links below:
Midnight in the Renaissance Elevator: https://www.amazon.com/Midnight-Renai...

Queer Cheer: https://www.facebook.com/groups/95091...