Since the last time I blogged for AMR I still have not published another book to talk about. Sorry :( But never fear, it is in the works! )
In the meantime, When Love is Not Enough is the current Book Of The Month for the M/M reading group on Goodreads.com. It has 109 ratings ( 5 stars (60) | 4 stars (27) | 3 stars (12) | 2 stars (8) | 1 star (1)) and gets reviews like:
Oh Jimmy! God how I loved him and his spirit. God he was such a sweet, caring guy. This is a BEAUTIFUL story and gods I didn't know how I was gonna survive it. The reason for the suicide is heartbreaking and I won't lie you will fall in love with Jimmy and your heart will bleed for him. etc...
Heartbreaking and wrenching. A beautiful story, but painful. Definitely worth the read! etc
Keri rated it 
SIMPLY STUNNING! From beginning to finish, When Love Is Not Enough, is truly a special story that will touch your heart! etc...
I laughed...I cried...and by the end, I was smiling. This is a beautiful bittersweet story.
And loads more. I couldn't be more pleased by the way it has been received by my readers. My regret is that the sequel is still not published. I am working on it. One "Beta" reader has gotten back to me and has found very little wrong with it. I ramble (shocker) here and there and we are going to clean that up, but all in all I think she loves it. It WILL be published, you and I simply need to be patient.
I am also working on a sarcastic comedy about college students. It is up to 60k. YAY! I have high hopes for that one, although it is completely different from anything else I've written.
My stuff was at the Rainbow Book fair and I here things there went well. Several people apparently HAD read my book! YAY.
I blog regularly on Goodreads so if you want to keep up with what happens each week, hop over there!
Thanks to you all for stopping by. I'm sorry there isn't more interesting information to give you at this time. But I'll keep you posted!
Later,
Wade
writerwadekelly@gmail.com
Excerpt:
Excerpt:
JIMMY walked down the country lane, looking at the surrounding fields and farms. A lot of corn was planted here. The state was known for sweet corn. He liked corn. It was great on the grill with barbecued chicken, or better yet—crabs! He loved steamed crabs the way the little shop around the corner made them. Loads of Old Bay made anything taste good. He remembered eating crabs in Massachusetts once, when he was a kid. The restaurant boiled them. Yuck! No flavor at all. Blue crabs were awesome steamed with Old Bay, a little vinegar, and sometimes beer. He licked his lips, thinking how yummy they would taste right now. If he only had a couple of bucks. His pocket produced lint upon inspection, so he kicked a rock and just kept walking.
He turned left onto the next crossroad and followed its winding path through the trees and cornfields. As he passed a dirt driveway on his left, Jimmy paused. Dirt driveways sometimes led to abandoned houses or hunting shacks. His eyebrow shot up. He was feeling rather inquisitive and decided to check it out.
The driveway was rutted and obviously rarely used. Grass grew in the center, at least a foot tall. No one could have driven up here lately unless they had four-wheel drive. The forest on both sides got thicker, obscuring his view. The birds in the trees were singing and chirping happily, so Jimmy wasn’t bothered to be so completely isolated. Quiet always accompanied danger in the woods, like a precursor. Silent birds meant something was wrong. It was the same as growling dogs in the house at night. He felt safe when the dog was sleeping soundly, and now while the birds were chirping.
Something glinted through the hemlocks and oaks, and Jimmy stopped. Water? He could swear it was sun reflecting off of a pond. What a great place to explore! A few more feet and he noticed an overgrown path heading in that direction. He took it, and in five minutes Jimmy found the path opened up to reveal a hidden paradise. “Paradise” because it felt like it was solely his. It was a huge pond, surrounded by hemlocks and sycamores, a willow tree and a few redbuds, with just enough grass to lie back and enjoy the view of blue skies above.
He was about to walk to the water’s edge when a voice from his right stayed him. “Who are you?”
Jimmy jumped. He looked to the person seated on the grass and stuttered, “Um, I, m-my name’s J-Jim.”
“This is private property, you know,” the boy said, glaring at Jimmy from underneath his shaggy black hair.
“Oh, I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean to trespass.” His dad’s warning flashed through his mind. Did this guy have a gun? He certainly looked scary.
The kid, dressed all in black, got up and walked over to Jimmy. “I don’t care.” He shrugged. “It’s not my property. I’m here illegally too. Got a light?” He took out a cigarette and tapped the butt on the pack.
“No.” Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t smoke.”
“You’re better off. I wish I never stole my mom’s cigs when I was eleven. It’s a bad habit to get into.” The kid’s expression lightened and Jimmy felt much less threatened. “So, what’s your name again?”
“Jim. I don’t mean to bother you. I can leave.”
He gave Jimmy the once-over. “No, it’s okay. You look all right.” The boy tucked his cigarettes back into his tight black jeans and stuck out his hand. “My name’s Darian. Darian Weston. I live up the road. I was just messing with you about the private property shit. I mean, it is privately owned, but the owner hasn’t been around for years. My mom says he’s trying to sell this land, but no one wants to pay the asking price. Whatever. I come here to be alone.”
Jimmy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are you sure it’s okay if I stay? I mean… you don’t even know me.”
“No, but most people won’t even talk to me. So, if you aren’t afraid, and you aren’t gonna beat the shit out of me, then I’m glad for the company.” He pointed to Jimmy’s notebook. “You write? Or draw?”
Jimmy looked down and lifted his notebook. “This? I write.”
“Cool. I draw. You write poetry, or what?”
Jimmy chuckled. “Poetry? Um, no.” It finally clicked; this kid must be emo. Or goth? What was the difference again? He unquestionably had the look of some high-school clique. Black T-shirt, black jeans, abnormally black hair, purple nail polish, pierced eyebrow, and Jimmy even noticed black eyeliner under his long lashes. Most assuredly emo and possibly gay, Darian was no longer a threatening presence. Jimmy felt his insides relax. “I write… stuff,” he answered ambiguously. “Whatever comes to mind. Kind of a project my school’s counselor suggested.”
“What? You got emotional issues?” Darian asked bluntly.
“Something like that,” he answered with a shrug. Maybe he wasn’t vague enough.
“Me too.” Darian bent down and picked up a stone. He skipped it sideways into the pond; five hops and then it sank. “I was cutting last year. My gym teacher freaked when he noticed the marks. I had to sit through weeks of bullshit.” He held out his arm, removing the leather wrist cuff. “See. I still have three scar lines.”
Jimmy swallowed a lump in his throat. “Fuck.” He’d never thought of cutting before. Sure, he was upset a lot, but he never thought of hurting himself by dragging a blade across his skin. Mostly his frustration came out in the form of fistfights. Darian didn’t even seem to mind showing him. Jimmy wasn’t sure if he was proud of the scars or just didn’t care about them at all. “What school do you go to?”
“Winter’s Mill. You?”
“Westminster High School.”
“Ah, Heroin High. Too bad. How come you go there when you live out here?”
Jimmy sat in the grass and set his book down. “I’m just visiting my dad this weekend. Most of the time I live with my mom on Larson Court. I used to live practically across the street from the high school, but we had to move after the divorce.”
Darian’s eyebrows shot up. “To the richie-rich part of town!”
“Not really,” he said defensively.
“It’s cool. I’m not judging.” Darian picked up and threw another stone. “I live with my mom as well. Never knew my dad. My mom has a different boyfriend all the time. Got four siblings, all from different sperm donors.”
Jimmy’s eyes went wide. “Damn!”
“Yeah, we’re a fucked-up family. Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“Two stepsisters and a half brother. Tommy is six months old. My mom only seems to have time for him, lately.”
Darian came over and sat in the grass next to Jimmy. “And let me guess, you get left out of everything?”
“Yup.” Jimmy grinned, looking at this very congenial fellow. How could people not like him?Jimmy’s normally reticent personality took a back seat in light of Darian’s charm. It wasn’t so much the things Darian said that drew him in as the way Darian’s eyes lit up when he looked at Jimmy. He found himself asking, “You got a book of drawings I might get to see sometime?”
Darian smiled and nodded. “Sure, I’ll see what I can find.” He lay back in the grass and closed his eyes, folding one arm behind his head and the other across his stomach.
Jimmy grinned and did the same.
The clouds floated by and drained away every care Jimmy had in the world. He closed his eyes. His ears picked up a blue jay, off in the distance. He heard a bullfrog. He heard rustling in the leaves, somewhere behind his head. A squirrel, maybe? It didn’t matter. The birds were chirping, and he felt safe.
Jimmy also heard Darian breathing, slow and steady, as if he were sleeping. Jimmy knew he wasn’t. The boy was just lying there listening to the sounds of nature and enjoying the quiet. Jimmy’s insides fluttered. As he lay there with Darian, listening to the smallest of sounds and sharing the most peaceful moment of his life, Jimmy knew meeting Darian Weston was going to be one of the best birthday presents of all time. He took a deep breath and relaxed more fully than he had in years.
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