Proglogue about a priest who dies on the Titanic but decides to stay and help those in need.
Story One: About a young disillusioned gay man who helps a Catholic Priest come out of the closet.
Story Two: Claudette, a pregnant barista helped by charactes in story one,.
Father Mario Luciani shook the hand of the last parishioner leaving St. Teresa’s church, the congregation he had prayed with and given spiritual guidance for twelve years. He looked forward to having dinner at Clair Patterson's not only because Clare was an excellent cook, but because she, her husband Charles, and other handpicked guests would offer an afternoon of interesting conversations on a variety of subjects, except the one he kept hidden from the world, his loneliness.
I was minding my own business when I got in the elevator on the 34th floor. When I got off of the elevator in the lobby, I was no longer minding my own business. I stood for a moment and watched the young man walk through the lobby and exit through the revolving door.
The Italian Call Boy is a tale told by Charles Antonio DeLuca in his waning years as a high-priced call boy. Retirement and the demise of his clients brought the reality of his own mortality into focus as he entered his 30’s. His lack of emotional involvement with his clients or anyone else for that matter began to have its effect. He felt incredibly empty. Changes in fortune lay ahead for Charles when he received a call from an old college chum who wanted to hire him to seduce his friend, Marc Benson, who had an emotional blockage of his own. The ensuing unsuccessful meeting with Marc Benson threw Charles into a quandary as his well-honed charisma failed to work and his carefully guarded emotions became unglued, sending him tail spinning into unfamiliar territory – he was falling helplessly in love with a client, an unforgivable sin in the trade he had prospered in for so many years. As he floundered in the emotional upheaval, his old friend, Patrick, plotted to rectify the lives of the two people he loved. As the story draws to a close Charles asks Patrick, “Are we even now?” to which Patrick gleefully responds, “We are indeed.”
I blocked open the swinging door to the dining room, and the feast began moving out of the kitchen onto the dining room table. Soon the eleven of us were settled at the table, passing plates of delicious food, mingled with happy conversations, and laughter. The lingering hug from Buddy came back to mind. Was he trying to tell me something? Perhaps. I felt something was brewing, but as hostess, I was too busy paying close attention to my scattered thoughts. No one saw it coming, least of all me.
The first time I laid eyes on Father Tomas McTavish, it was as if a thunderbolt struck me right between the eyes. He could not have been more than 26 years old, tall, slender, and too good-looking for his own good. Of course, he was perfect, just the type of guy who would fall all over themselves for someone like me – a dumb, gay dago. A friend suggested I take a photo of this man of God and send along with my Christmas wish list to Santa. But a miracle was obviously necessary and I didn't think Santa could pull this one off. Little did I know how wrong I was.
It began with a box of spaghetti I was about to place on a shelf in the pantry. The end of the box came open, sending spaghetti in all directions and eventually sending me to the 1966 Drag Ball at Chicago’s Palmer House. Much to my chagrin, my photo wound up on the front page of the Chicago Tribune the next morning.
One fine day after graduation, two of my buddies and I decided to join the army. We’d show those sonsabitches. Turns out those sonsabitches showed us. Mike and Paul are dead and I have no lower legs. And then the Crenshaw’s moved in next door at 5133 Kensington Avenue. The moment I saw David smile, I knew he was just my style. My only regret is we’ve never met. Without setting myself on fire in front of David Crenshaw, I could think of no other way to have him notice me.
It a first person short story and the main character's name is Alejandro Lopez. His a 20ish Hispanic gay guy who just wanted to have a fun time at Pulse and he was there with two friends the night where the club got shot up by Omar Mateen. Its a nonfiction/fiction short story. The nonfiction part of the short story is that their were 49 people who actually died at the club and the name and loaction the club. Everything else is completely made up by me. The short story is like a interview type of story.
Clark Kent receives a speeding citation from a handsome police officer. They meet for coffee at Michael's coffee shop. There is robbery, handsome police officer is shot, Clark saves his life, a friendship and romance develop.
Janet never promised Beryl she'd come back, but she came back nonetheless. Unfortunately she never considered that Beryl wouldn't be waiting for her when she returned. Instead, she finds two curious women who became Beryl's roommates in the time that Janet was gone.
Chloe is a transgender woman who struggles with school and has an temper to boot but its all for a classmate she is madly in love with and obsessed with, now she will do anything for her senpai, this is the beginning of the deadly sickness that we call love.