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Category:
Gay/Lesbian/Bi
Publisher: Joe Cosentino
Type: Fiction
Pages: 187
Copyright: August 1, 2020
ISBN-13: 9798662914995
Price: $4.99 (eBook)
When sexy male models drop faster than their leather chaps, Nicky and Noah will need to use their drama skills to figure out who is taking the term “a cut male model” literally before Nicky and Noah end up steamed in the wardrobe steamer.
It’s spring break at Treemeadow College, and theatre professor Nicky Abbondanza is directing a runway show for the Fashion Department. Joining him are his spouse, theatre professor Noah Oliver, their son Taavi, and their best friend and department head, Martin Anderson. The show, designed by visiting professor Ulla Ultimate, is bound to be the ultimate event of the season. And bound it is with designs featuring black leather and chains. When sexy male models drop faster than their leather chaps, Nicky and Noah will need to use their drama skills to figure out who is taking the term “a cut male model” literally before Nicky and Noah end up steamed in the wardrobe steamer. You will be applauding and shouting Bravo for Joe Cosentino’s fast-paced, side-splittingly funny, edge-of-your-seat entertaining tenth novel in this delightful series. Take your seats. The runway is lighting up with hunky models, volatile designers, bitter exes, newfound lovers, and murder!
Excerpt
The sparkling lights from above illuminated the long stage like stars blanketing an airport runway. Four handsome, young male models, whose bodies were cut like perfect diamonds, strutted down the walkway—lined with flashing lights. Each man was in black leather activewear. One model wore a vest housing tight abs, shorts surrounding a bubble butt, and boots adorning long legs and large feet. Another sported lean muscles under a T-shirt, spiked dog collar, and skintight slacks hosting a palpable bulge. A third spun around in a long flowing coat. The fourth stretched in revealing workout clothes. Each model, with a sensuous glance or a flick of luxurious hair, claimed his section of the runway. The fifth, a young teen, stole the show in black leather jogging shorts and T-shirt as he spun a basketball on his fingertip.
One of the four young men, a bit larger than the rest, slipped a candy bar from his black leather waist pouch. After stealing a bite, he accidentally dropped the wrapping onto the stage floor. The moment his leather heel slid over it, the model took to the air, landing bottom-up at the edge of the runway—mooning the audience. The music for the opening song played: a rock version of “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile.”
“Stop!” It’s me again, Nicky Abbondanza, PhD—standing for pretty hot daddy—now that I’m forty-two years old, accent on the old. Actually, my students tell me I’m “well preserved for my age.” I’m tall, with dark hair, a Roman nose, emerald eyes, and a cleft chin my hubby loves to tickle with his tongue. Thankfully my body hasn’t dropped yet thanks to the gym on campus, which keeps my muscles pumped and my stamina pooped. Also, I’m called “larger than life.” It isn’t a comment on my witty personality. To the delight of my husband, horror of my tailor, and envy of my gay friends, I have a nearly-foot-long penis when aroused—which happens nowadays as frequently as a student not texting during one of my lectures.
Why is Treemeadow College’s Professor of Play Directing rehearsing a fashion runway show? The answer is Ultimate, that’s Ulla Ultimate of Fashions Ultimate. Ulla, having conquered the fashion world in Europe and the US, wanted to be a visiting college professor. As the expression goes, “The other man’s grass always gives you a better high.” Seeking a safe place to try out her controversial new spring line and wanting to be near her Theatre major son, Ulla contacted our college president. He contacted the dean who contacted the head of the Fashion Department who contacted my best friend and head of the Theatre Department, Martin Anderson, who contacted yours truly. After Ulla was hired as a visiting professor, she was offered the fashion show scheduled for spring break. Martin asked me to add some theatrical flair to Ulla’s runway. Faster than a priest lassoing an altar boy with rosary beads, I needed to cancel my group’s spring break gay cruise to Iraq. This upset my husband, Associate Professor of Acting Noah Oliver, whose thirty-fifth birthday we just celebrated. (Okay, I’m a cougar.) Our thirteen-year-old adopted son, Taavi Oliver Abbondanza Kapule, and Martin’s husband of an age, Ruben Markinson, also gave me shoulders colder than Uranus. No pun intended. That is, until I asked Noah to be the fashion models’ acting coach, Ruben to co-produce the runway show with Martin, and Taavi to be a junior model. I, of course, would direct the production to give it the Abbondanza theatrical flair—or curse (more on that later).
Unfortunately, my husband, son, and I don’t have the gay fashion gene. We each wear a dress shirt, dress slacks, and blazer on a daily basis. However, we definitely have the ham gene. Our little troupe has put on plays, musicals, a murder mystery dinner theatre piece, a luau show, a ballet, and even a couple of movies. So, I assumed a runway show would be easier to piece together than a president’s Russian money laundering trail. What could possibly go wrong? Everything.
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