Here is my cover, with Belgian chocolate shell candy, and a latte.
This story was originally written for a call from a different publisher which a friend told me about. However, I realized that I wasn't going to make the deadline, even though I was pretty close. But I wasn't done and I didn't want to rush it.
Belgian Chocolate Remedy is the story of two men who have lost their way - Milan is a Belgian chocolatier who came to this country with his brother Ludolf, but his brother was tragically taken away and he is floundering without him. Jesse was dumped by his boyfriend and has lost all interest in life and has no purpose, so when his best friend Reggie summons him to Lafayette, Indiana, he goes - why not? There, their paths cross.
The original call asked for a story with chocolate, so I found Milan. Here is my original inspiration picture for him.
I think he is handsome, and has an air of sorrow about him.
Now, here is Jesse.
Smoldering and brooding, don't you think? I have another pic of him that's a little more... revealing. Want to see it? Okay, here it is.
Blurb: Milan, a Belgian chocolatier, has lost his beloved
brother. Yet life goes on, and he must ready his booth for Outfest—Ludolf would
have wanted him to carry on. Jesse is a rudderless soul, unable to cope with
the rejection of his lover. He comes to Lafayette, Indiana at the request of
his best friend, Reggie. She inveigles him into helping her friend Milan… a way
to pass the time, or something more?
Excerpt:
Milan had gone back to his last batch of
chocolate—unscathed and unburned—and removed it from the burner, where it was
cooling. “Would you like to brush the molds with chocolate?” he asked.
“Sure, I guess.”
Jesse shrugged. It didn’t seem that difficult, at least in theory. “What’s it
for?”
“To coat them.”
Milan pulled a pastry brush from a drawer. He already set the molds out; they
were simply waiting to be used. “I have
some in the freezer already done,” he explained, seeing Jessie’s questioning
look. “This is not all I have.”
“Okay,” Jessie
said, “just show me what you want me to do.”
“Here.” Milan
carried the pot of chocolate to the center of the work table. “Set a trivet
there, will you?”
“A what?”
“A trivet,” Milan
repeated, nodding to the counter behind Jessie.
“That blue thing there. I will set the pot on it so it does not burn the
surface.”
“Sure.” Jessie
laid the round blue object onto the table, as Milan set the pot. “Take the brush and dip it like this.” He
demonstrated just how far into the chocolate he wanted him to go. “Then lightly
brush over each mold, like so.”
Jesse admired the
ease with which Milan worked, as if he’d been born to do nothing else. He had
very nice hands, he noticed. How would those hands feel on Jesse’s cock? Would
he touch it with the same care? His breath caught at the thought.
Milan offered the
pastry brush to Jessie. He shook himself from his reverie and took it, pushing
the forbidden image away. “So you’re selling these tomorrow. At Outfest.
Right?”
“That is correct,”
Milan replied. “You are coming, yes?”
“I am unless I
want Reggie to tan my hide.”
Milan smiled.
“She would, you
know,” Jesse continued, “You ever see her get mad?”
“Yes, I have,”
Milan admitted, “I would not care to be the object of her anger.”
“Me either.”
“A little lighter,
please.” Milan had been watching Jessie work. “Here.” He laid his hand over the
other man’s. “Like this. Just enough to coat it. I will fill it in after we put
in the fruit.”
Their eyes met and
for a moment their hands stopped moving, each acutely aware of the other. Milan
broke away first. “I will do this one,” he offered, “then we can do the first
freeze.”
“First freeze?”
“Yes. We are
forming a shell so it will hold the weight of the candy.”
“Okay.” Jesse
thought it made sense, but what did he know. He dipped the brush into the
chocolate again, making his strokes lighter, earning a “bon” from Milan. He
knew enough French to know that meant good. He relaxed a little at the praise.
Once they had set
the molds into the freezer, Milan removed the completed candies that waited
there. He showed Jesse how to unmold them, and how to put them into their
little paper beds, and into the waiting boxes. Then he let him apply the second
coating himself.
“You are doing
well,” he encouraged him.
“Thanks.”
A few minutes of
companionable silence passed, Jesse concentrating on the task at hand, Milan
stealing surreptitious peeks at the brunet. Whether he was willing to admit it
to himself, he was glad for his company. Jesse’s presence was pushing the
shadows away.
“Milan?”
“Yes, Jesse?”
“This is your
place, right?” Jessie encompassed the kitchen with his glance. He couldn’t help
but feel a lot of love had gone into making this room the place it was. More
than a kitchen, it was Milan’s haven.
“It is, yes.
Mine.”
“When are you
going to open, then? Reggie said you were going to open your candy store after
Outfest, right?”
Milan paused in
the act of retrieving a container of raisins from the refrigerator. It was a
legitimate question. It’s what businesspeople did—they opened for business. So why
was he so hesitant to set a date? Maybe because he didn’t see it ever
happening, without Ludolf’s guidance.?
“I do not know,”
he mumbled, setting the bowl on the table, not meeting Jesse’s eyes. “There is
work that needs to be done, construction work and…and licenses…and I do not
know what, I mean I just do not know…”
Jesse reached out
his hand without thinking, but Milan had already turned away. Jesse’s heart
ached for the other man—he sounded so alone, so lost. Jesse wanted to gather
him up in his arms, comfort him, soothe him, stop his tears, and end his pain.
And yes, he wanted to get naked with him, too—to touch him, feel him, and lose
himself in Milan. He wanted to taste his lips and take away his misery.
His feet moved, as
though his thoughts had manifested themselves into action. His fingers brushed
across the top of the table as he edged around it, toward Milan. He had no
clear purpose he simply needed to be closer to him.
Milan was a few
inches taller than Jesse, he discovered, as he came up behind him. Jesse’s lips
were at about the level of Milan’s jaw, and he found it hard not to simply kiss
him there, to stop his shoulders from shaking, to stem the tears he suspected
were falling. He reached up his arms, wanting to hug Milan to him tightly, to
take the first step—
The tinkle of the
shop bell. Jesse retreated, stumbling back to his side of the table. In his
haste, his hand knocked a spoon off the table. It clattered onto the floor.
Milan spun around, dabbing at one eye with his right hand. He left a small smear of chocolate on his
cheekbone. Jesse bent to retrieve the spoon, resisting the urge to wipe the
chocolate away. The moment passed; he felt like a coward.
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link:
http://www.extasybooks.com/julie-lynn-hayes/The-Belgian-Chocolate-Remedy/
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