Margins
Over and Over Again book cover
Over and Over Again
2018
First Published
4.14
Average Rating
594
Number of Pages
When Luca Ward was five years old, he swore he would love Imre Claybourne forever. Years later, that promise holds true—and when Luca finds himself shipped off to Imre's North Yorkshire goat farm in disgrace, long-buried feelings flare back to life. The lines around Imre's eyes may be deeper, the once-black night of his hair silvered to steel and stone . . . but he's still the same slow-moving mountain of a man whose quiet-spoken warmth, gentle hands, and deep ties to his Roma heritage have always, to Luca, meant home. The problem? Imre is more than twice Luca's age. And Luca's father's best friend. Yet if Imre is everything Luca remembered, for Imre this hot-eyed, fey young man is nothing of the boy he knew. Gone is the child, replaced by a vivid man whose fettered spirit is spinning, searching for north, his heart a thing of wild sweet pure emotion that draws Imre into the compelling fire of Luca's frustrated passions. That fragile heart means everything to Imre—and he'll do anything to protect it. But can he resist the allure in cat-green eyes when Luca places his trembling heart in Imre's hands . . . and begs for his love, over and over again? Contains mature themes.
Avg Rating
4.14
Number of Ratings
1,965
5 STARS
45%
4 STARS
32%
3 STARS
16%
2 STARS
5%
1 STARS
2%
goodreads

Author

Cole McCade
Cole McCade
Author · 47 books

Slender. Angry. (Part) Asian. Yeah, that about sums me up. Hi. I’m Cole. Xen. Whatever you want to call me; both are true, and both are lies. My pen names are multitudes, my nicknames legion. Tall, bi/queer, introverted author of a brown-ish persuasion made up of various flavors of Black, Asian, and Native American. I’m cuter than Hello Kitty, more bitter than the blackest coffee, and able to trip over cats in a single half-asleep lurch; I’m what happens when a Broody Antihero and a Manic Pixie Dream Boy fight to the death, and someone builds a person from the scraps left behind. Beardless, I look like the uke in every yaoi manga in existence; bearded or not, I sound like Barry White. About half my time is spent as a corporate writer, and the other half riding a train of WTFery that sometimes results in a finished book. Romance, erotica, sci-fi, horror, paranormal; LGBTQIA and cishet; diverse settings and diverse characters from a diverse author. Sometimes I shout about things on the internet. Usually intersectional feminism and marginalized voices, and whomever’s punching down in those directions today. Sometimes human sociology, the psychology of sex and gender, and my own gender non-conforming arse (he/him, by the way). Sometimes I get really mad at Stephen Hawking and nerd out all over the place about hairy black holes, and believe it or not, that’s not a terrible pun or even worse innuendo. That’s it. I’m a huge dork. My humor’s so dry it could empty oceans. I’m a native Southerner from the New Orleans area with zero Southern accent; I’m a mess of multi-ethnic, multi-cultural, multi-lingual influences; I have two cats. I wake up at daft hours of the morning to go running. I crochet terrible, lumpy things that never really turn into anything. I’m older than you think I look. I’m much more shy than my fury makes me sound (signifying gods only know what, but probably nothing). Recently I decided, at 36, that I needed to restart my life and move cross-country, so I tossed 75% of my possessions in the trash and randomly trucked it to Seattle. I’m in love with books and music and technology, and they war with each other for dominance and sometimes come together in a beautiful confluence. Most of the physical books I own are strange, obscure, out of print, overseas imports, or any combination of the four. Most of the physical books I used to own were destroyed in Hurricane Katrina, and have been replaced with the infinite library on my Nook. My wallet has a dangerous attraction to anything with pages; it flirts and teases and gives its all, until there’s nothing left but emptiness and ruin. There will always be things you don’t know, and I won’t tell. But ask me late at night over live music in a seedy bar, and you might just get an honest answer. ...or you can poke me via: * Email: blackmagic@blackmagicblues.com * Twitter: @thisblackmagic * Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/xen.cole * Website & Blog: http://www.blackmagicblues.com * Tumblr: http://thisblackmagic.tumblr.com/ And there's my Xen Sanders SFF / Horror profile: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...

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