Gay male romance. How much can twenty-four hours change men’s lives? When promiscuous party boy, Roger, and his seriously committed monogamous partner, David, arrive on the Island of Madai for a holiday it’s make or break. Roger is tired of a partner who wants them to act like an old married couple and is ready to break free for good. Meanwhile, David hopes the time away will unite them.
When fate takes them both on separate Turtle Airways flights, to the island of Castaway in search of Tony, the results are totally unexpected.
Excerpt
Roger and I had come away for a holiday, making noises about relaxation, sun, and days filled with sex. I had been ready. In fact, the trip had been my idea, and, of course, I was paying for it as well. And I’d thought of it because I had become deeply jealous of Roger back in New York, of the casual sex-filled life he lived and loved and caroused in so easily. Because I wanted him all to myself, and I hadn’t been able to tame him yet; he remained such a free spirit.
Here, though, I had assumed I’d have him all to myself. And I was more than ready to be made love to long and hard.
And the first night Roger had obliged me, though after a sleepless night, an early morning, and ten hours of flying, the sex had been more a great release—that had seen us both asleep within an hour of hitting the bed. But when I awoke in the morning, I was ready for more and thought there was plenty of time as I rolled over. To find that Roger was already gone.
And in his stead, all I found was this note, saying Turtle Airways departs daily from Madai to Castaway $20 Tony $50. Amused, I formed the image in my mind of a fat airplane resembling a turtle. And who was this Tony? Maybe the pilot? Maybe the joke was that the seat on the airplane only cost twenty dollars, but it you wanted a pilot, you’d have to pay fifty dollars more.
Of course, fantasize about it as I would, I wouldn’t really do anything about the note. I was too conservative, too staid. And that’s what Roger always said to me—that I had a tendency to be dull—and possessive. Still, he wasn’t shy about letting me clothe him and put a roof over his head. For that, I thought it fair enough that he stay with me, concentrate on me—like I was prepared to do for him.
I wondered where he was now and worried that maybe he was off on one of his flights of fancy. He took too many risks, but he never listened to me when I pointed that out.
He was always saying I should go off on a flight of fancy myself—that it would do me a world of good. I doubted that. I was never one who was much for that. Besides, Roger was enough for me.
