HELLO FRIENDS, I AM WRAPPING UP THE BEATEN TRACK PUBLISHING FALL FESTIVAL WITH MY REVIEW OF ONE OF THEIR AMAZING BOOKS: LIAM FOR HIRE: LONDON STORIES 2 BY A. ZUKOWSKI! THIS BOOK IS AMAZING, LET'S CHECK IT OUT BELOW:
I THINK THIS QUOTE IS IMPORTANT FOR BOTH LIAM AND ALI, YOU WILL SEE WHY WHEN YOU READ THIS BOOK. HERE IS MY REVIEW:
Liam For Hire
London Stories 2
by: A. Zukowski
reviewed by: Becky
Liam Murphy has kicked his drug habit and now pays for the high living costs in London as an escort. His life is finally in balance. His only problem is that he obsesses about the minimum number of times he has to bend over to make ends meet. As long as he has his emotions under control, it'll be fine. That's what Liam keeps telling himself until he meets the young widower Alastair, also known as Ali, whose emerald eyes remind him of Ireland.
Featuring Liam from The Boy Who Fell to Earth.
I was trying to find an appropriate word to describe this story, and I think beautiful is the one I want to use. Liam For Hire isn't just a story, it is a mans journey on the path of redemption and letting go of his past and the guilt he has carried for a long time.
Liam is a recovering addict and an escort, and he thinks he doesn't want to find someone to love and cherish, but then he meets Ali. Ali has his own baggage and the way these two come together is amazing!
Liam is finally settled and getting on with repairing the life that his drug addiction took from him, and Ali is a huge part of that. What will happen when Ali's past comes calling? Will everything Liam holds dear be threatened?
You guys have got to read this book, it is amazing and though it is book two in a series, it can be read as a standalone, but the way this author writes, you know book one is gonna be amazing too!
YOU WILL SEE WHY I DID THE FLUTES FRIENDS! BELOW IS THE LINK FOR LIAM FOR HIRE (THE BEATEN TRACK LINK WILL HAVE ALL THE LINKS YOU NEED)
BEATEN TRACK LINK
BELOW IS THE LINK FOR BOOK ONE IN THE LONDON SERIES: THE BOY WHO FELL TO EARTH:
AMAZON LINK
NOW LET'S LEARN A BIT ABOUT THE AUTHOR WITH A BIO AND SOME SOCIAL LINKS FOLLOWED BY AN EXCERPT OF THE BOOK!
I am a
London-based British writer who grew up in the gay village and red light
district of Manchester, UK.
I was trained
in screenwriting at the University of the Arts, London; National Film &
Television School and Script Factory, UK, followed by a series of misadventures
as a film journalist, writer and producer of short films. My stories are based on
personal and emotional experiences, and feature strong LGBTQ-identified
characters.
Social
Media
Twitter: @saszazukowski
Tumblr: http://azukowski.tumblr.com
Extract
“You don’t need to lie about your age to be
untruthful. I don’t have anything to hide.” The only thing no client will get
from me is emotional attachment, as hackneyed as it sounds. It’s not good for
me or for them. I need to protect myself. No one else will.
Ali nods, as if he understands my
reasoning. After finishing the joint, I light up another cigarette and take a
large sip of the whisky that clouds my head. I realise I’m enjoying the
conversation. Here in this little garden, I am able to relax. Living in my box
room in the crowded flat isn’t good for contemplation. But then, who am I to
complain? I can hardly afford anything else.
As we listen to the hum of the London
suburb and the distant sirens that cut through the city’s streets all night,
Ali’s curious gaze fixes on my face as though he really wants to know the real
me. “And you’re Irish, right?”
My accent is unmistakable. “Yup. Born and
bred in West Cork.”
Ali plays with his wedding band and he
takes a gulp of his whisky, almost finishing it. “So, how long have you been in
London?”
“I came to London nearly four years ago.”
But most of the first three years were shrouded in a drug-induced fog. I’m not
proud of it.
“Do you miss home? Do you ever feel
nostalgic?” Ali stares dreamily at the shadows of the garden. I wonder why he’s
the one who seems to be pining for something.
I look intently at the dark sky as I
consider his questions and finally I realise what ‘home’ means to me. Even with
a roof over my head I’m still homeless in my heart. Brick and mortar don’t mean
anything. I’m not sure if I want a real home right now, somewhere I belong. Not
that one is on offer or available to someone like me. Some days, I long for the
freedom of the streets, strange as it may sound to anyone who has never been
homeless. My bedsit and the job are like a hamster’s cage, giving me temporary
shelter but making me go round and round in circles.
I reply, “I don’t miss the actual places. I
miss the stars and the inky nights. Sometimes I think I can smell the seaweed
on damp sand and hear the sound of the waves on Inch Beach if I close my eyes.
I yearn for the thunderstorms and the crystal dewdrops clinging to long grass.
I want to hear the tunes played on a bodhrán and the low notes from the
clarsach.” I inhale deeply, then slowly breathe out, thinking about those
beautiful things I once shared with someone I thought I loved and would spend
the rest of my life with.
No comments:
Post a Comment