Mark The Date: August 18! That’s when Rainbow Advocacy Press releases my new novel, RUTHLESS!, the latest installment in my Nothing Can Tear Us Apart series. I’m proud and excited!

Rainbow Advocacy Press was created to publish books and written works focused on LGBTQ+ history, identity, human rights, and culture. To prepare you for the RUTHLESS! experience, I’m posting excerpts from SHATTERED!, the current installment in the Nothing Can Tear Us Apart series.

As Bette Davis’s Margo Channing said in All About Eve,“Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.”

SYNOPSIS: Wes, a wealthy African American media mogul, and ‘Tonio, his Latino Chief of Security, are star-crossed lovers who fight against the odds to maintain their monogamous relationship. The duo must confront the ghost of Intimate Partner Violence and Abuse (IPV/A), dissociative identity disorder (DID), Wes’s wayward, homophobic teenage son Waseem, and Ruffkut, the deadly gangsta who has a vicious vendetta against Wes.

In Excerpt One, the couple is frantically searching for Waseem, who the bloodthirsty crime lord has kidnapped and savagely beaten. Visit: www.wyattevans.com/shattered/

January 8, 2023

When Wes got stressed, he began to sweat.  Profusely! In this situation, beads of sweat began to trickle—and then dance—across his forehead, then down to his face.  And in no time flat, like a dam break, the full waterworks started!  In what seemed like nanoseconds, he was soppin’ wet, freakin’ drenched all inside and under his thermals and parka.  Meanwhile, his noggin was bangin’ sumthin fierce.

“C’mon now, Baybee…be easy,” ‘Tonio uttered, workin’ hard to be reassuring.  “It might not be as bad as you’re thinkin’.”  The lovelight was smoldering and shining–no, actually burning in his eyes.

To prevent a total breakdown, Wes made it a point to avoid those piercing eyes.

“Let’s git down there.” ‘Tonio grasped his significant other’s trembling hand, giving it a firm, gentle squeeze.

Next, each man straddled a somewhat elongated erection. (Now, hold on one doggone minute!  It wasn’t THAT kind of erection, mind you.  I know where your mind is probably going with this, so STOP!  Stop it, I say!  Now continue reading.) It was a super sturdy ladder for their methodically careful descent into that hollow, seemingly miles-long chasm.

Ollie directed the duo to a body the team had extricated from mounds of snow and ice.  After Wes and ‘Tonio made it to the bottom of the pit, they pushed forward to where the crowd of rescue personnel had gathered.

The frantic, frazzled, and FRENZY!-ed Wes was utterly stunned!  Suddenly, a wave of dread washed over him.

He stopped dead in his tracks!    

But somehow, he managed to creep forth, stumbling towards the figure that was face up.

Wes peered down at the body of an African American male in his twenties, stripped down to his purple silk boxers.  The following seared in Wes’ brain: “Oh, my! Whoever did this was being so very benevolent by letting him keep his drawers on.”  Meanwhile, ‘Tonio was stupefied.

Of course, Wes was being sarcastic.  What he really meant was, “What a fuckin’ cruel muthafucka who did this!”

And if this body was who his gut was screaming it was, Wes knew who that muthafucka was!

It was Ruffkut, the drug lord with a long, twisted vendetta against him.

Exposure to near-zero temps and extreme elements caused severe hypothermia.  Frostbite had settled in, so much so that the body turned blue.  A frozen film of blood, saliva, sweat, and tears formed over the victim’s face.  Additionally, the body suffered episodes of blunt force trauma that left it broken and mangled.

“Wes,” Ollie whispered, “Is this Waseem?  Is this your son?”

Wes hovered over him, his eyes scanning and then examining the victim’s black, blue, and battered face, which was pretty much unrecognizable.  His unsteady hand gingerly lifted the young man’s left hand.

“Oh, my God!” Wes howled, a puff of breath shooting out of his mouth that instantaneously became a part of the frigid air.  “Here’s his Versace crystal embellished Greca ring I gave him!  He bugged me about getting that for his birthday.”

Wes collapsed!  “Yes. It’s him! It’s my son, Waseem.”

“I gotcha, Baybee,” ‘Tonio groaned, holding onto his partner and fighting hard to keep it together.

Ripping off his gloves, Wes yelled, “Why would HE do this to him?  How could he do this to my boy?”  Shaking, he probed the body, frantically trying to find some spark of life.  Wes began to sob.

Uncontrollably.

“There…there didn’t seem to be a pulse, a heartbeat,” interjected Ollie.  “He doesn’t seem to be breathin’.”

Next, Wes totally lost it!  “Oh gawd, no!  This can’t be happening!  Why?  Why?” And with that, every iota of energy got siphoned out of the mortified father’s body.  As he fell to his knees, he could no longer keep a leash on his innards:  a volley of vomit erupted, rushing up from his stomach and exploding from his mouth.

Dropping down beside the love of his life, ‘Tonio snatched a handkerchief from one of his pockets.  After gathering Wes up in his cannonball-sized arms like the most pricey and delicate set of Wedgwood china, he gently cleaned Wes’s soiled mouth.

Then, suddenly, an ambulance stormed through!  A physician jumped out almost before the vehicle came to a complete stop.  He exclaimed, “I’m here!  Finally!  I was able to resolve yet another emergency.  Because of this shitty weather, it’s been non-stop!”

Pushing through the hushed crowd, the doc, a somewhat agitated and beleaguered curmudgeon, shouted, “Move back, everybody, so I can thoroughly examine the victim!”

That command snapped Wes out of his stupor!  Then, ‘Tonio lifted him to his feet.

It was as if time had stopped!  “What tha hell?  Oh, my goodness!”  The doctor stared at Wes and ‘Tonio incredulously.

“Oh…my…God!  There’s a pulse!  There IS a pulse,” confirmed the doc. “ It’s intermittent, thready, weak.  But it’s there!”

The medical professional added, “If he didn’t have an extraordinary constitution, he’d be dead by now.”

The physician ordered the paramedics, “Cover up this young man and get him into the ambulance, STAT!  We have NO time to lose!

“Not one single second.”

And now, my readers, let the shifting, swirling winds of time take us back, back, back to 2017, the year that Waseem, the son Wes never knew he had, crash-landed into his life.