A Hard Days Night By Mia Kerick – Spotlight


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Book Description:

 

High school senior Kalin (Lennon) Macready knows several

facts for certain: John Lennon is his hero. Beaumont Finley Danforth II (Fin)

is his best friend. And—this is the complicated one—he feels more for Fin than

mere friendship. 

For weeks, Lennon pesters Fin, who like Lennon admits to

questioning his sexual orientation, for a commitment to spend twenty-four hours

together exploring “the gay side of life.” Fin reluctantly agrees. Each boy

will seek to answer the daunting question, Am I gay? Lennon pre-plans the day,

filling the hours with what he assumes “gay life” is all about: shopping for

fashionable clothing, indulging in lavish dessert crepes, boogying to Taylor

Swift’s “Shake it Off”, and yes, listening to show tunes. 

However, Lennon quickly realizes that in creating his plan

he has succumbed to the most common and distorted of gay stereotypes. Can he be

gay and not fit them? And more importantly, is it possible that spending one

very hard day and night together will help Fin accept that he’s gay, too? If

so, maybe Lennon has a shot at winning the heart of the boy of his dreams. 

“A Hard Day’s Night” is an amusing young adult contemporary

romance about two boys who seek to discover if they must fulfill stereotypes to

be together. 

In the end, maybe all you need is love.

Excerpt:

I park directly in front of the salon.

“The Best Little Hair House in Westfield?” Fin looks

at me incredulously but doesn’t dish out a criticism. My dear friend Fin has

great difficulty with that whole “calling it like he sees it” thing.

“I didn’t name the place,” I mutter as I jump

out of the Jeep. After shaking his curly blond head a couple of times in

what-did-I-get-myself-into disbelief, Fin does the same.

I’ll be sorry to see those pretty curls on the

floor of the beauty salon, but we’re gonna endure our mutual makeover, one way

or another.

In my opinion, having mutual makeovers spells togetherness

as well as exploring our more feminine sides. “Come on. We have both of the

salon’s haircutters booked for the next hour.” Then I mumble in a manner

designed to be intentionally incoherent, “And we have a makeup artist for the

following forty-five minutes….” Fin doesn’t hear this part and I think it’s

for the best.

“Daaahlings, you must be Lennon and Fin….” Richard,

I assume, since I recognize his sing-song voice from the phone call I made to

set up our appointments, greets us at the door, air-kissing me and Fin, on both

cheeks. I know immediately that if my goal is to immerse Fin and me in all

things homosexual, we are in the right place. I find it hard to tear my eyes

off Fin as he checks out the salon. I’ll sum up the salon’s décor like this:

rainbow-glitter-velvet-jelly-bean-explosion. And I’m pretty sure that Fin,

coming from a lifestyle enhanced by the subtle shades of Williams-Sonoma and

Restoration Hardware, has never laid eyes on anything quite this… this

vibrant. And Richard’s lilting voice one more time sings out proudly, “Welcome

to the Hair House!”

At this point, Fin, with extremely wide eyes, checks

out the slick-haired narrow-eyed man who is going to beautify him. Not that Fin

needs any enhancement in that department, whatsoever, because even if I weren’t

gay, I’d recognize that Fin is a stunner. “I… um… thank you,” he says and

offers his hand, which Richard grasps, lifts dramatically to his lips, and

kisses very slowly.

“And I must insist that you call me Chard—all

of my dearest friends do,” the stylist utters, a glimmer of hopefulness

blatant in his sly, dark eyes.

Fin’s lips move but no sound comes out. He’s probably

trying to formulate the words for what he is thinking: Are you kidding me—you

call yourself Chard? Hahahaha!!

But with no success, as Fin, like I mentioned before, has trouble with calling

upside-down black heart shapes with tiny stems what they are—yeah, spades.

<b style=”mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;”><span style=”font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt;”>Bio:</span></b><br />

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<a href=”http://tinypic.com/?ref=1j25p3&#8243; target=”_blank”><img alt=”Image and video hosting by TinyPic” border=”0″ src=”http://i60.tinypic.com/1j25p3.jpg&#8221; /></a><br />

Mia

Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and

five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston

Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty-two years has been told by many that he

has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive

subject.

Mia

focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young people and their

relationships, and she believes that physical intimacy has a place in a love

story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia

filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of

whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and

stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to

Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press, CoolDudes Publishing, and CreateSpace

for providing her with alternate places to stash her stories.

Mia

is a social liberal and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of

human rights, especially marital equality. Now marital equality is the law of

the land!! WOOT!! Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer

class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and

constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

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<b>&nbsp;Author Links</b><br />

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<a href=”http://www.miakerick.com/”>Website</a></div&gt;

Buy Links 

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