You hitch your lift with this man, You'll have your blood on your hand ... in Suicide Ride: The Platinum Man by E Llewellyn.
AN OLDER MAN WITH NO FUTURE, AND NOTHING TO LIVE FOR … Norman Dimond is the Silver Man, an over-the-hill LA-based rock 'n roll record producer who has seen better days. A set-for-life bisexual with a hard spot for younger men, he squanders his nights hustling cash-strapped gay-for-pay desperadoes who swagger into his den on the Sunset Strip, looking for drive-by love in all the right places. Lonely and at loose ends, he longs for a worthy dance partner, but despairs of finding him … Until one night, when he least expects it, in waltzes …
A YOUNGER MAN WITH A PAST, AND A DEATH WISH … Johnny Gellis is the Platinum Man, a beautiful straight wreck who needs fixing—and who wants exactly what Norman Dimond has to give: a platform, a stage. But does he want it badly enough? Desperate to outrun his demons, he's driving himself crazy, and is heading straight for the edge. Can Norman save him, before it's too late?
TWO LIVES ABOUT TO COLLIDE IN A SUICIDE RIDE … When Norman meets Johnny, their heavy-metal fenders bend, sending the male-on-male sparks flying. Johnny's number-one-with-a-bullet hit "Suicide Ride" blows Norman's mind, while his number-99-with-an-anchor tattoo pricks up more than just his ears. And though this hell-bent, cliff-hanging headbanger is the man-boy of his dreams, keeping him on course turns out to be a waking nightmare. Can Norman do it? Can he put him on top while stopping him from breaking down and destroying them both? The deeper Dimond digs, the darker it gets; and as the secrets and suspense multiply, so, too, do the lies. Johnny is hiding something, that much Norman is sure of; and what's worse, he begins to feel the tug of even darker and ever more violent undertows—sinister, malevolent drags that Gellis himself cannot spin-rinse away.
Although SUCIDE RIDE: THE PLATINUM MAN (Book One of the SUICIDE RIDE series) is marketed as Gay Literary Fiction, its target audience is much broader. It will appeal to anyone who relishes a riveting story well told, to all lovers of literature, regardless of orientation, all readers who get off on beauty and precision in language, who dig delving deep into the minds of eerily alive characters so real you need to prick them with a pin just to be sure ...
At its heart, SUICIDE RIDE is a beautiful, lyrical, raw, and palpably poignant love story, a paean to the blood pact made in the dark between two lost, lonely souls. An archetypal tale evoking the age-old quest for immortality brokered by those man-made devils within and without, it speaks deeply to anyone who has ever struggled to square his circle in the world.
Suicide Ride: The Platinum Man
Amazon Digital Services, Inc. (September 29,2013)
ASIN: B00FJE98BO
Excerpt:
Yes, this was Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, California. And it really was about five o'clock in the morning. But there the script ended.
Blowing into town, he blitzed down the Strip, fueled by high-octane adrenalin. A sat-nav - hardly! He was not that type: he didn't need any talking to by some wise-ass Tom-Tom leering over his shoulder telling him what to do, when to do it, and where to go.
As he neared Amoeba Music on his right, he got a wheel, deciding at the last second to flip the Strip a bird, ditching its crank, kinetic energy and high strung lights for the calmer canal of Cahuenga, beating it north toward the mist-hung lavendar hills.
The harder he gunned it, the further away they got. On the horizon straight ahead, nestled high up in those deep purple knolls, one flinty prick of light stood out, luring him on with the promise of a bed. Flickering through the festoons of smog, it offered the barest hint of a cantilivered, white cubist haunt clinging to the ledge. And so he followed that star, for as long as its limping little flame held out.
Finally at the Empire Night Club, he lost sight of that goodly light, and so headed West.
To purchase, click http://www.amazon.com/Suicide-Ride-The-Platinum-Man-ebook/dp/B00FJE98BO/ref=zg_bs_7588848011_35
Blowing into town, he blitzed down the Strip, fueled by high-octane adrenalin. A sat-nav - hardly! He was not that type: he didn't need any talking to by some wise-ass Tom-Tom leering over his shoulder telling him what to do, when to do it, and where to go.
As he neared Amoeba Music on his right, he got a wheel, deciding at the last second to flip the Strip a bird, ditching its crank, kinetic energy and high strung lights for the calmer canal of Cahuenga, beating it north toward the mist-hung lavendar hills.
The harder he gunned it, the further away they got. On the horizon straight ahead, nestled high up in those deep purple knolls, one flinty prick of light stood out, luring him on with the promise of a bed. Flickering through the festoons of smog, it offered the barest hint of a cantilivered, white cubist haunt clinging to the ledge. And so he followed that star, for as long as its limping little flame held out.
Finally at the Empire Night Club, he lost sight of that goodly light, and so headed West.
To purchase, click http://www.amazon.com/Suicide-Ride-The-Platinum-Man-ebook/dp/B00FJE98BO/ref=zg_bs_7588848011_35
2 comments:
Really takes me back to my Los Angeles days - no place on earth like it - but it is a young man's town. You've captured it brilliantly.
Thank you, Victor. While I've never lived in LA, I have visited, of course, and I really did my research. Glad it shows!
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