Blog Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway:
Surviving the Merge by C.P. Harris
Chadwick, Book 1
My name is Justin, and when I was seventeen, I fell in love with a boy named Damon.
Damon was sick, only I didn’t know it at the time. And like any disease left untreated, it festered and burrowed into the unaffected areas of us, until we were both so far from healthy, we were killing one another. Then a tragedy sparked our implosion.
With nothing of us remaining to salvage, I was left to pick up the pieces, while Damon found his escape in the abyss. Leaving me alone with Blake.
Damon and Blake are two halves of a whole. But Damon is the coldest part of darkness, and Blake the warmest part of light.
I love Blake with a ferocious intensity akin to the peeling back of skin. But Blake isn’t Damon. And Damon was gone—until now.
What once threatened to tear us apart has become our catharsis.
Outnumbered in the relationship with the man who was my life, I’ve begun to learn more about love than I ever thought possible.
An M/M romance and book one in the Chadwick trilogy.
Can be read as a standalone, but reading in order is recommended as the characters make appearances in all three books. Surviving the Merge contains explicit sex and graphic language.
Author’s note: For those that appreciate warnings, please use the “look inside” feature to find them within the first several pages. Warnings & reader advisory: Surviving the Merge is an M/M romance with adult and, at times, dark themes. It is intended for mature readers. Possible triggering content includes mental illness, rape (off page), codependency, and dubious consent. Surviving the Merge does not contain cheating.
We got back to the city, and after picking up my car, the rest of the afternoon into the early evening was spent snacking on the couch while watching shows on gardening, with intermittent napping in between. That night, Blake instructed me to put on my finest suit, without offering any further details. No matter how hard I tried to persuade him otherwise.
I tore my attention from the living room window at the sound of Blake’s voice. He descended the stairs tugging at the cuffs of his tuxedo. His already masculine hands gained more masculinity by the ring he wore. A thick, gold band with a gaudy onyx solitaire. Sexy.
He paused at the bottom of the landing. He’d shaved his shadow a bit lower, and the light glinted off his dimples. He knew what he did to me.
Outside a limo waited for us. This was no spur-of-the-moment date. How long had he been planning this?
Thirty minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of The Oregon Ballet House. We were there to see the opening night performance of La Bayadère. I gazed through the tinted limo window in open surprise. Red carpet, cameras, the who’s-who were piling out of their own limos or fancy cars with names I couldn’t pronounce. Men donned tuxes, and women wore gowns chased by trains.
I slumped further into my seat, the leather screaming its protest. When my stare met Blake’s, he eyed me curiously. I hadn’t forgotten about the show. I just hadn’t planned on going. Not wanting to be reminded of what I gave up. Or feel what I felt at that moment. That I’d made a mistake. That the show went on without me.
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