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    Yellowbelly Hero
    Yellowbelly Hero
    Yellowbelly Hero
    Ebook121 pages1 hour

    Yellowbelly Hero

    By Susan Laine

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    Heroes at Heart: Book One

    Yancy Bell was bullied in high school for being a yellowbelly, not because of any cowardice, but because of his nervous bladder condition. It’s Yancy’s first year in college, and he’s hoping to make a fresh start.

    Three days before Christmas, the campus is empty. Having to pee on a midwinter night leads Yancy to meet Curt Donovan huddled in a dark shower stall. Curt’s a troubled jock whose coming out went badly, so he plans to end it all.

    But Yancy adamantly refuses to let Curt go through with his irrevocable plan. With just one dark night to talk Curt around, Yancy has to win the trust of a stranger who only sees one way out.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDreamspinner Press
    Release dateAug 5, 2015
    ISBN9781634763592
    Yellowbelly Hero
    Author

    Susan Laine

    Susan Laine, an award-winning, multipublished author of LGBTQ erotic romance and a Finnish native, was raised by the best mother in the world, who told her daughter time and again that she could be whatever she wanted to be. The spark for serious writing and publishing kindled when Susan discovered the gay erotic romance genre. Her book, Monsters Under the Bed, won the 2014 Rainbow Award for Best Gay Paranormal Romance. Anthropology is Susan’s formal education, and she could have been happy as an eternal student. But she’s written stories since she was a kid, and her long-term goal is still to become a full-time writer. Susan enjoys hanging out with her sister, two nieces, and friends in movie theaters, libraries, bookstores, and parks. Her favorite pastimes include singing along (badly) to the latest pop songs, watching action flicks, doing the dishes, and sleeping till noon, while a few of her dislikes are sweating, hot and too-bright summer days, tobacco smoke, purposeful prejudice and hate speech. Website: www.susan-laine-author.fi Email: susan.laine@hotmail.com Blog: www.goodreads.com/author/show/5221828.Susan_Laine/blog Facebook: www.facebook.com/Susan-Laine-128697277229180 Twitter: @Laine_Susan

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    • 4/5
      Book – Yellowbelly Hero (Heroes at Heart #1)
      Author – Susan Laine
      Star rating - ★★★★☆
      No. of Pages – 82
      Cover – Simple, effective
      POV – 1st person, past tense, 1 character POV
      Would I read it again – Yes!

      Genre – LGBT, Suicide, Contemporary, College


      ** I WAS GIVEN THIS BOOK, BY THE AUTHOR, IN RETURN FOR AN HONEST REVIEW **
      Reviewed for Divine Magazine


      To start with, I want to say just how much I loved this story. I mean, it tackled a really difficult topic – suicide – and did it with sensitivity and understanding that you don't often see in books.

      I'll admit, I'm not fond of characters talking to readers, so I'm really not a fan of 1st person, but this one grew on me after a while. It was important to see things from Yancy's POV and I liked that it didn't stray from him, to show Curt's POV. Although this was his story, it wouldn't have been as effective had it been in his POV.

      The entire story takes place over one night, but it didn't feel as if it was stretched out on purpose, just that these two people had a lot to say and a lot of issues to confront.

      I really liked the pelvic exercise scene. It was so cute and funny, allowing for a more understanding view of Yancy's nervous bladder condition, as well as a moment of levity. It was nice how they both gave a little and took what they needed from the conversation, sharing parts of each other, while skirting around the bigger issue until they were ready to open up.

      I also really liked how this wasn't your stereotypical Jock-Geek story. This time, the Jock is the vulnerable, unsure one and the Geek is the hero, showing up just in time to save the day.

      Yay for Will, too. It's so nice to see that, among the talk of homophobic parents and accusations that Curt had to deal with, he has someone on his side. I also like how the author dealt with Curt's realisation of what he'd almost done and how Will would have felt, upon discovering that.

      ~

      So, why is it not a 5 star? Because, for some reason, “The End” has become obsolete in the MM genre, including here. When I reached 72% of the story, I expected another 20% at least of content. What I got was 47 pages of adverts. 28% of adverts! Now, I'm sorry, but I'm already a fan of this author and if I want to read more of their books, I can look them up on a dozen different websites. I don't need a list of every book they've ever published, along with the blurb and book cover of all the books. I gets even more annoying when I've already read half of them.

      Why does this require docking a star? Because, although I assume this is the publisher's doing, I'll admit, I felt cheated out of the story. I had hoped for some glimpses of the next morning or something more, to fill those 47 pages with, but I never got it. The story ended with a HFN, but it felt like there was something missing and that it ended a little too abruptly.

      ~

      Favourite Quote

      “A jock and a geek getting it on? Wasn't that at the top of the list of things that suggested hell had frozen over or the world was about to implode over its impossibility?”

    Book preview

    Yellowbelly Hero - Susan Laine

    Yellowbelly Hero

    By SUSAN LAINE

    Yancy Bell was bullied in high school for being a yellowbelly, not because of any cowardice, but because of his nervous bladder condition. It’s Yancy’s first year in college, and he’s hoping to make a fresh start.

    Three days before Christmas, the campus is empty. Having to pee on a midwinter night leads Yancy to meet Curt Donovan huddled in a dark shower stall. Curt’s a troubled jock whose coming out went badly, so he plans to end it all.

    But Yancy adamantly refuses to let Curt go through with his irrevocable plan. With just one dark night to talk Curt around, Yancy has to win the trust of a stranger who only sees one way out.

    To everyone and anyone struggling to find a reason to go on living, please speak to someone or call a suicide hotline. You're beautiful and your life matters.

    Chapter 1

    THIS IS the story of how my nervous bladder became the unwitting hero of the hour.

    My name is Yancy Bell. I’m nineteen, and this is my first year in college. I’m majoring in computer studies and English literature because I’m a book geek and a computer nerd. I know what I am, and I don’t feel particularly ashamed of those qualities. These days geeks and nerds are proud to be called by those formerly deprecating terms. In a couple of years, I’ll rule the world.

    But at the time, I sure wasn’t feeling victorious.

    I cracked open the door of my dorm room and peeked out into the hallway. I didn’t want anyone to see me. Not that there was much danger of that since it was a mere three days to Christmas and most everyone had already packed up and left campus for the holidays.

    As I hoped and expected, I saw no one and heard nothing. Not even the usual faint snoring coming from the other rooms in this all-male dorm. When everyone was in residence, the roof and walls sometimes shook as a result of all the snoring.

    I swear to God.

    Okay, I might be exaggerating a bit, but just a bit!

    Last classes were yesterday, so the dimly lit, dusky corridor was vacant. Taking a deep breath and bracing myself for any kind of confrontation, I snuck into the hallway, closed the door behind me, and rushed on tiptoes to the common bathroom.

    I really wish we all had our own bathrooms, but alas, we didn’t. Fitting a floor full of guys into one bathroom with four stalls, four urinals, four sinks, and only two functioning lousy showers—the other two worked one night, but not the next; it was like trying to predict a divine tempest—resembled trying to squeeze an octopus into a fishnet bag.

    The second I entered, my woolly socks sliding a bit on the tile floor, I knew something was wrong.

    The lights were on, for one. Sure, most of the guys didn’t care whether they left the light on after using the facilities. But the janitor did usually turn them off. Considering it was the first week of the holidays and no one was around, and what with it being two a.m. and long past the time the janitor did his nightly tour, the lights puzzled me.

    I’d been certain no one on my floor was here for the holidays.

    Hello? Someone here? I called out, a loud whisper more than an outright shout.

    A quick intake of breath and a rustle of movement signaled someone’s presence. Yet no one answered. That made me suspicious and a little bit scared. The campus security guards were likely gone for the holidays, like everyone else with half a brain.

    I braved my way forward. Hello? Are you okay in there?

    No reply.

    By then the delay, plus the tiny burst of fear, had caused the front of my pajama bottoms to get wet. The damp spot grew as I stood there, indecisive. Dammit. I’d leaked a few piss drops already. I needed to go bad. Because of my condition, I wasn’t sure if the need was real or just in my head. A small amount of leakage by itself wasn’t a definite yes.

    Cursing under my breath, I snuck into a stall, shoved my pajama pants down to my knees, grabbed my dick, and…. I sighed deeply as relief washed over me. I closed my eyes, leaned against the stall wall, and forgot about everything except my bladder emptying.

    Now this wasn’t a sensual experience, you understand. I’m not trying to glorify the act of pissing. No, I have a condition. I’m not sure if it should be classified as medical, physical, or mental, but in any case, the damn thing controls my life in ways I really don’t want it to. Like me choosing a stall instead of a urinal every single time, for example, because not only is my bladder overactive, but the infernal thing is also prone to annoying instances of shyness at the most inopportune times. Plus, I didn’t want any witnesses to the likelihood of pee-soaked underwear or pajama bottoms.

    I finished my business, tapped my dick to catch any wayward droplets, and yanked my pajama bottoms back up. I flushed, exited the stall, and washed my hands at the sink.

    While drying my hands with a paper towel, I studied myself in the mirror under a cruel blue light that revealed every shadow and potential wrinkle. Not that I had many of the latter since I was only nineteen, but the former? Yeah, black shadows under my eyes showcased how little I had slept during exam week.

    I felt lighter too. Sleep deprivation and snacks typically cause poor health and weight loss. Back in high school, I’d been swimming regularly, so I’d been sleek and fit, with hot masculine muscle definition. But that was ten months ago. I’d lost some degree of fitness since then. My slightly concave cheeks were proof I’d dropped more weight than was healthy. I was now slender, a word I had never associated with men. Silly of me, I know. Who said a man couldn’t be slender?

    That slenderness, coupled with short-cropped blond hair and cornflower-blue eyes, made me look like an effeminate boy instead of the healthy guy I’d been before.

    I harrumphed loudly at my reflection.

    Another fast inhale sounded from the shower block. Something metallic clinked against the tiles; it could have been anything.

    Curious and worried, I rounded the corner.

    A shadow shifted across the tiles, evidence of a moving presence in the farthest shower stall.

    Though my first instinct warned me not to approach, the

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