Monday, December 8, 2014

Two Loves excerpt by Jacob Campbell

Two Loves by Jacob Campbell is dedicated to the writer Mykola Dementiuk.  The author states, “Mykola is my dear friend and mentor, and he is a multiple Lambda Literary Awards winner. Mykola has been a constant encouragement since I began writing for publication. He suffered a physical crisis which left him partially paralyzed, and he types his books with one finger, a letter at a time.  I cherish his friendship and dedicate this novel to him with warmest wishes.”

In this book, Joey is growing up with no gay role models. In the dim light of the early 1960s, Joey only knew what he picked up on the streets, at magazine stands, and in public restrooms. In his senior year in high school, he falls in love with Ross, a beautiful athletic “straight guy.” But once in college, his love life takes a turn.

Ike, a flamboyant college freshman, turns Joey on to gay sex and the newly formed gay lib movement. But things don’t go well for Joey, and he fumbles through a few one-night stands and semi-relationships. After nearly losing Ike to a gay bashing, Joey gives up on love and turns his motorcycle toward New Orleans and the French Quarter, where he moves in with his bohemian cousin, Judy. 

Joey likes the gay scene in the Quarter but he is lonely, missing intimacy, and flails through life. The sexual nights in the French Quarter aren’t enough to satisfy his real needs -- but his resourceful cousin magically opens the door for him to have the best of both worlds.

Two Loves
JMS Books (November 30, 2014)
ISBN: 9781611526592


I was a goner from the first moment we met.

Ike was a kind and gentle man, a tender person. He was cheerful and talkative, and cared nothing for the fact that his gestures and speech mannerisms gave him away as a man who liked other men. In my earlier life, in high school, I’d fallen in love with a classmate who had similar atypical gestures and mannerisms for a boy. It wasn’t that Ike had girlish ways, but he lacked a macho stiltedness and his movements were spontaneous in all situations, with a sort of ballet-like gracefulness.

In the privacy of Ike’s room, we began kissing and his lanky frame seemed to wrap around mine. We kissed a long time before we moved our hands around exploring. We just hugged, kissed, and stared into one another’s eyes. The sensation of a fast fall into love was unmistakable. I was totally enchanted.

Hours into our private time in Ike’s bedroom, we took each other’s shirts off, and rubbed and kissed each other’s chest, stomach, and explored everything -- nipples, armpits, the long muscles of Ike’s neck and our hugging was wonderful.

We talked between kisses.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered in my ear. His golden red stubble rasped on my cheek and our naked bodies folded into one another, soft accepting hard, hard pressing soft. “You smell so wonderful.”

It was so good to hear what he said. I felt so ugly lately, beyond ugly, and here he was telling me the opposite.

I spoke to him in whispers, “You are so elegant, so sleek, so strong and tight ... like a gymnast. What do you do?”

His dancer’s physique was a rush to touch, and we seemed to reach some sort of excitation crescendo mid-afternoon. We withheld actual sex all this time. We accumulated desire. We built anticipation. Our pants were tossed aside with wet spots in the fronts, and new heightened arousal as our skin in private parts of our bodies began to meet for the first time.

“Slow.” Ike whispered. “Go slow, make this last.”

“This is bliss.” Our voices so soft as to be almost inaudible, but we agreed to pause and savor this blissful threshold.

We were glowing and all I can say is that I fell in love with Ike again every instant as if this capitulating to his charm held new surrender each and every new moment.

He fell in love with me, too. It was impossibly fast in a sense, but what delays we experienced seemed to deepen our love. The emotions were unmistakable as love; but there wasn’t anything in my life’s experience that would have prepared me accept or to resist such a force of attraction. I was full, overflowing, joyful, and a roaring underground river flowed with warmth and majesty deeply within me carrying with it new love. New love flowed tangibly through us both.

Love at first sight unfolded like a lotus flower unfolds. Waves of excited blissful affection washed over us.

The sound of Ike’s voice whispering in my ear, the breath gently flowing past my ear and gently moving my hair…the clenching of our arms around one another -- everything was exquisite.

Somehow in my mind I remembered a past time when once I meditated at a botanical garden early one morning, and saw a lotus bud closed, but poised for opening at daybreak. I sat beside the pond, assumed the full lotus posture, and gazed unblinkingly at the purple and lime colored bud. It seem not to move from moment to moment but after a short while the petals expanded into a flower, and in a short time the lotus was fully opened. I felt the magic of natural unfolding from bud to flower as a parallel to this time in Ike’s room, in Ike’s arms.


Mick Mykola Dementiuk said...

It's a great honor to have this book dedicated to me, not only that, but as the story goes along, we find a character involved with Dementiuk Books...what the hell, named after me?!
My dad must be rolling in his grave, that, or doing a jig, haha!
Thanks Jacob, you're the best ;)

Lloyd Meeker said...

Have put this in my tbr pipeline. I'm looking forward to getting to know you through your writing, Jacob!