Gay – Page 18 – A. L. Lester

Holly Day: A windy day

Let’s welcome Holly here today, to talk about her new release, Blown Away!

Hi! Thank you, Ally, for allowing me to drop by on this super windy day! Is it windy where you are? No? But today is Big Wind Day, it should be windy 😀

To celebrate Big Wind Day, I wrote a story called Blown Away. We should get better at celebrating things. Did you know that according to social psychology researchers, even small celebrations will help us build resilience against setbacks and bad experiences? It’s true, celebrating things make us more mindful and aware of the now which boosts our well-being.

Having something to look forward to makes us more optimistic, and positive emotions allow us to handle stress better. So celebrate your wins! Doesn’t matter if they are big or small. Make a thing of the little things. Eat cake, high-five your partner, make a toast, light a candle or say a prayer – do something to celebrate the moment.

I believe each day should be celebrated, so I’m writing stories about them. I wrote Hop Hop, Carrot Top for Kiss a Ginger Day (January 12), Be Still, My Heart for Valentine’s Day (February 14), There Will Be Aliens for Extraterrestrial Abductions Day (March 20), and now we’ve reached Big Wind Day.

I figured there had to be something good coming out of the terrible weather, so I wrote about a bird shifter who’s stranded since he can’t fly in the storm. He happens to be in a grumpy bear’s territory, and who doesn’t want to be saved by a bear? Even if it’s a hungry bear who’s far more interested in cakes than he is in birds.

The rain was like thumbtacks against Espen's skin, and he wanted to roar. If the hadn't been carrying a bird and a shoe, he could've changed into fur. Fucking wolves--and leopard. If they hadn't walked into his territory, he could've been at home.

Excerpt:

Espen took a deep, calming breath as he walked up the stairs to fetch some clothes. It was easier to breathe when he was away from the bird. He hadn’t known he was allergic. And shouldn’t his eyes itch if he was?

He grabbed a T-shirt, a hoodie, and glanced at a pair of jeans. They would be way too big. He grabbed a pair of pajama pants instead. As soon as he entered the living room again, his heart was beating like crazy. Frowning at the bird, he rubbed his chest. Was it an allergy?

“Here. I fear you’ll drown in them, but put them on and we can move you closer to the fireplace until you get warm.” His stomach grumbled. “Food.”

“What?”

“I need to eat. Hot dogs?”

The bird looked in his direction, but not exactly at him. Espen frowned. He had a candle. Was he still unable to see? He took a step forward and the man’s eyes snapped to his. That was better. He liked it when the man was looking at him.

“What’s with hot dogs?”

“We’ll cook them in the fire.” He gestured at the fireplace. “It’s fast and easy.”

“You want to… eat? Oh…” His gaze jumped between the fireplace and Espen. “What’s your name?”

“Espen Urso.”

The bird snorted. “Of course, it is.”

Espen frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s wrong with my name?”

“Nothing. It’s very… bear-ish.”

“Of course, it means bear.”

“It means Bear Bear.”

Heat climbed Espen’s cheeks. It was a ridiculous name, but many shifters named their children after the species they were. “What’s your name?”

“Arvid Rai.”

Espen frowned. Jay, he would’ve understood. Or Blue, Blue would’ve been a good name for him. “What does it mean?”

The chuckle, Espen would say it was self-conscious. “Arvid means free or eagle—” Ha! It was a bird name. Though the difference between a blue jay and an eagle was significant. “And Rai means storm.”

“Well, Mr. Eagle Storm, would you care to move closer to the fire?”

Seconds went by, Arvid’s gaze sliding up and then down his body, making Espen shiver. “You’re not gonna… attack me?”

Espen jerked. “Attack? You’re injured!” He gestured at his arm. It must hurt like hell. “And I’m hungry.” He turned toward the kitchen, needing some space. The poor thing thought Espen would chase him like the imbeciles in the forest had. Grumbling and growling, he dug around the dark freezer for some hot dogs. He had roasting sticks in the closet in the hallway.

Placing a plate with the hot dogs on the coffee table, he went to grab the roasting sticks. As he passed he noted that Arvid had put on his pajama pants. He grinned as warmth spread in his chest.

“I… eh… think I need some help with the shirt.” He flinched as he spoke.

“Sure. Let me grab…” He opened the closet and dug out the bag with his hiking stuff. With two roasting sticks in one hand, he walked the three steps, bringing him up to Arvid’s side.

Blown Away by Holly Day

Espen Urso would rather stay inside and enjoy a nice, sweet cake than be out in the worst storm of the year. But there’s a group of alpha shifters trespassing, and he needs to defend his territory and keep the people in his village safe. A group of wolf shifters he can scare off, but when he realizes they’ve hurt a defenseless little bird, he loses his patience.

Arvid Rai is having a bad day. He’s an omega on the run, with a group of alphas on his tail. If there hadn’t been a storm, he could have easily flown away before the stupid wolves got their hands on him, or the angry bear noticed he was in his territory. But there is a storm, and the idiot who grabbed him broke his wing, so now he can’t fly anywhere. Still, he deems it best to stay with the growly bear rather than having the other alphas fight over him.

Espen has never believed in the myth of omegas, and it isn’t until he takes Arvid in he realizes how much trouble he’ll be in when shifters from near and far learn he has one in his home. Will he be able to keep Arvid safe from other shifters? Is it even possible to defend his territory with an omega in it?

M/M Paranormal Romance: 13,628 words

Amazon :: JMS Books :: Everywhere else!

About Holly

According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.

Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.

Connect with Holly @ https://lnk.bio/xpae or visit her website @ hollydaywrites.wordpress.com

Ofelia Grand: The Egg Hunt

Happy Easter, everyone, and thank you Ally for letting me drop by. I’m in the middle of re-publishing a number of old stories. And two days ago, The Egg Hunt was released.

The Egg Hunt is an Easter story that takes place in Nortown. The thing with Nortown is that almost everyone there is a lumberjack. When I first started writing these stories, it was to make fun of all the clichés. Don’t get me wrong, I care for my characters and their hardships, but I played a lot on stereotypes.

The Egg Hunt was first released in 2016, and the M/M genre has developed since. There weren’t a lot of vampire daddies or Mpreg stories back then – they existed, but not to the extent they do now. And this was before the Amazon top lists were overflowing with the ‘I shagged my step daddy’ stories. And, to each their own, but I want to say thank heavens because I could never write those kinds of books. So instead, I wrote grumpy, toppy lumberjacks with ‘oh, so responsive’ bottoms.

Now, The Egg Hunt isn’t as stereotypical as the other stories taking place in Nortown, but it has the attributes. Tom is a closeted lumberjack, and Jason is a bartender from ‘the city’.

Jason is in Nortown to visit a friend, but their dogs fight, so he gets to stay with Tom instead. At first, Tom isn’t pleased, but soon he realises it’s quite nice to not have to spend the holiday on his own.

Do you have any special Easter traditions? When I was a kid, Mum always boiled a crazy number of eggs on the morning of Easter Eve – in Sweden you celebrate all holidays on the eve. On Christmas, we open the gifts on Christmas eve. Anyway, Mum made eggs, and the entire family gathered and painted them. Then we ate them.

I remember being a little sad when I had to destroy an egg I was especially pleased with.

Mum had also hidden carton eggs filled with candy all over the house. And she had, and still has, lots of small porcelain eggs she filled with sweets of different kinds. The entire Easter weekend, we were on a constant sugar high LOL.

In Nortown, the inhabitants of the town get together for an egg hunt in the forest.

Available now, The Egg Hunt. "What should I expect at this egg hunt? Tom gave him a quick glance. "You know how egg hunts work, right? We're here to help Jen prepare, hide eggs for people to find, and then in a couple of hours, everyone will show up. Kids, pets, adults--most of Nortown's population will stroll into the woods and search for eggs." Tom laughed.

Excerpt:

Jason hurried past Tom between the trees. Even though he’d helped hide the eggs, it was hard to find any now. He stopped by a fallen, moss-covered trunk, where he was almost certain he’d hidden three small chocolate eggs, but he couldn’t spot a single one. Someone might have made it there before him, he guessed, but he didn’t think so. Everyone had started at the same time.

He heard Tom snigger behind him.

“Did you take them?” Jason gave him a mock glare, which quickly morphed into a smile. It was almost as if he were being pulled towards him.

“I might have hidden them elsewhere, but then again, so might Jen.”

“You moved my eggs?”

“Of course! I couldn’t let you win.” Tom reached for him but stopped himself and stepped back. Jason fought a sigh. He wanted Tom to touch him. It was stupid, but he wanted to be close to Tom, wanted to smell him, to laugh with him.

“Oh, lookie here.” Tom stretched up between two branches and took down a real egg that had been coloured purple. “Now if you find one, we can have that egg tapping.”

Jason huffed and continued farther into the woods. He would find an egg, and he would win the egg-tapping thing. An unguarded feeling of freedom shot through him as he searched both on the ground and up in the trees for colourful eggs. He didn’t really care if he won—the insight should’ve been shocking; Jason always wanted to win. He still wanted to find an egg and play the stupid game with Tom, but only to see his warm eyes sparkle.

“A-ha! Got one!” He picked up a red egg and ran towards Tom. As he dashed between the tree trunks to where he’d last seen him, he almost ran into a little girl who was trying to reach a large plastic egg filled with sweets that hung too high in the tree for her. “Here you go, darling.” He took it down for her and hurried along. Where the fuck had Tom gone? He’d been right behind him mere minutes ago.

He could hear voices and laughter everywhere, but not Tom’s.

The Egg Hunt

Jason has one rule when it comes to holidays — work his shift behind the bar and then find a willing body to distract himself with. One night is long enough to satisfy his needs and still walk away with his heart intact. It has worked out fine for most of his adult life, but this Easter, he’s trying something new. He’s leaving the city to visit his friend Aiden, who recently moved in with his boyfriend in the middle of nowhere, but one unfortunate incident leaves Jason without a place to sleep.

Tom doesn’t just not do relationships, he rarely does hook-ups, either, and never too close to home. Living on his own without attachments is easier than having the whole town knowing about him. As the holiday approaches, his lonely house grows even quieter than normal — at least until his friend Tristan dumps an arrogant bartender in his lap.

As soon as Jason lays eyes on the gruff lumberjack whose home he’ll be sharing, he knows who’ll warm his bed for the weekend and help chase away any pending holiday gloom. Too bad Tom doesn’t want to get with the program. As much as he wants to let Jason close, he won’t risk outing himself for a weekend fling. Will Jason trust Tom not to break his heart if he stays longer than a couple of days? Will Tom value their relationship higher than the town gossip?

Contemporary M/M Romance: 34.031 words

Buy The egg hunt:

JMS Books :: Amazon :: books2read.com/TheEggHunt

About Ofelia

Ofelia Gränd is Swedish, which often shines through in her stories. She likes to write about everyday people ending up in not-so-everyday situations, and hopefully also getting out of them. She writes romance, contemporary, paranormal, Sci-Fi and whatever else catches her fancy.

Her books are written for readers who want to take a break from their everyday life for an hour or two.

When Ofelia manages to tear herself from the screen and sneak away from her husband and children, she likes to take walks in the woods…if she’s lucky she finds her way back home again.

Find Ofelia on social media:

Blog :: Newsletter :: Instagram :: Facebook Page :: Facebook Profile :: Goodreads :: Bookbub :: Pinterest

#AmReading

I’m so behind on these, I’m very sorry! This time I have queer sci-fi!

A Matter of Oaths by Helen S. Wright

I loved this. It’s a brilliant plotty space-opera with additional gay romance. The characters are beautifully realised, there’s a middle-aged female space-ship captain with a trick hip as a main character and the world-building is drip-drip-dripped in rather than delivered in a big ‘here is my universe’ clump. Identity-wipe, political machinations, mysterious enemies and big guns. What’s not to like?

Nophek Gloss by Essa Hansen

So this was weird and complicated. I really liked it. It follows someone who is initially a child and then has their growth accelerated to make them an adult for /complicated plot reasons/. It’s got a racing story and some extremely gruesome bits which I found heart-wrenching, so be warned. However it also has brane-like universe bubbles that have different rules of physics and-or existence, an extremely cool selection of aliens and different technologies and a plot that twisted my tiny mind n the best way. I should add…it has genderfluid and enby characters and the main character is ace.

Taji from Beyond the Rings by R. Cooper

This is my first R. Cooper book and I am now wondering why I waited so long to start. It’s a ‘queer human in a world of genderfluid aliens’ story and the dislocation and loneliness of the main character really resonated with me in this dislocated and lonely covid-time.

Taji, the human embassy translator, is an academic who’s been subbed in to cover for the murdered previous incumbent. He’s in love with one of the Shavian embassy guards. There’s a mismatch of cultural knowledge and expectations and failed communication between them that interweaves with a fantastic, exciting political-machinations plot that I loved. A lot of the plot is based around a minority of the Shavian’s tendency to ‘go shehzha’ for their lover…to become mindlessly desirous of them during the first phase of a relationship. It was interesting and I thought done really well–it had a cultural and political impact on the story and the relationship between Taji and his lover.

That’s it for this time!

interview: Chris Quinton

Today I’m happy to welcome Chris Quinton to the blog to answer my intrusive questions! Welcome Chris! It’s lovely to have you here. First question, as always, what persuaded you to come and visit?

Why? A combination of reasons – last year, my publisher started their close-down process, and the copyrights to eleven of my titles returned to me. Since then, after the inevitable procrastination, I have read them through, tweaked, edited, and made/bought/was gifted new covers for them all. They are now all released to the wild, spread wide across umpteen platforms. So, too, are all my other titles, which were previously only on Kindle Unlimited, and I’m hoping to spread the word.

Also, interviews are fun, and you’re a good friend that Lockdown has prevented us from meeting up for a coffee/tea and a chat.

What started you writing?

Good Grief, that’s so long ago I can’t remember when it started. I have a vague memory of telling my toys [dolls, racing cars, horses/ponies] stories – adventures we all went on. That sort of naturally segued into writing them. Then, at eleven, I went to South Wilts Grammar School for Girls, and discovered the Greek and Roman myths, and History, so they joined the story population. I was the archetypal Brit pre-teen: crazy about horses, ballet, and reading anything I could get my paws on, especially historicals and science-fiction. My parents, bless ‘em forever, gave me their library cards, so I had free rein in the adult sections as well as the children’s. By then, my English teacher would only mark the first two and half pages of my free-writing essays… What do you expect when you tell someone like me, “Write two and a half pages on the title, Sunrise.” She got about five pages on a Native American meeting a palomino pony for the first time.

Where do you write?

My desktop is in my bedroom, so mostly, I write there. Pre-Pandemic, and soon Post-Lockdown, I also write in a coffee shop. When I can travel to visit friends, I write during the train journeys, thanking the gods for iPads. No matter where I go, I always have a paper notepad and pens with me, as well as my iPad. I should add a qualifier to that – I try to write. The Dreaded Writer’s Block is only too real.

What do you like to read?

Most of my reading preferences have a mix of genres. I love science-fiction, fantasy, mysteries, historicals, contemporary, with or without some romance. I also read a lot of fanfics, currently I’m hooked on the Marvel Cinematic Universe fics…

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I enjoy making lap quilts partly by machine, and doing the actual quilting by hand while listening to audio books, or podfics of my favourite MCU authors’ works. We have three dogs here at Chez Chris, and while I don’t help walk them – my Bloody Back won’t let me – they are great company. As soon as Lockdown ends, I’ll walk to the shops along the river most days, taking photos, keeping an eye on the River Mafia [the local swan family], and hoping to catch a glimpse of other wildlife. Otters have been seen occasionally, despite being in the middle of a [small] city.

Tell me a little bit about your most recent release. What gave you the idea for it? How long did it take to write? What did you enjoy about writing it? What did you hate?

All but one of my stories have been rereleases, and the only new title for ages is Duet. It was originally intended to be a Christmas novella, but… Procrastination… Writer’s Block… Anyhow, it took me way too long to finish it.

The idea was Christmas carols sung for charity at the annual Christmas market here in Salisbury, my home city, giving the family a chance at the big time via an impresario who was blown away by their talents, and how that would impact on their lives. But that got a little derailed by ghost music and an old harpsichord. I loved that the story let me use one of my favourite pieces of opera – usually, not at all my preferred thing. Also, I fell down the research rabbit hole hunting down harpsichords, their history, their makers, and their sounds. I hated that my writing had stalled completely before the ghost music theme hit me. Once it did, the story took off.

Duet is told from the point of view of John King, one of four brothers, and all the family are singers. John is a tenor, and he connects with Simon, a baritone, and they become close. He is fascinated by the story of an old harpsichord in Simon’s family, and by the melody he keeps catching on the edge of his hearing.

Duet

Once burned, twice shy, John hasn’t dared to act on his attraction to Simon, until the chance to sing a famous duet sets their friendship on fire.

The echo of a centuries-old love, unheard by most, brightens Simon’s life. Then John picks up the melody and finds the words to their song. When music decides to write a love song, it’s a duet…

Buy Duet

Find Chris!

I have a website, but it is badly in need of a complete overhaul…

Facebook : Twitter

interview: Leigh M. Lorien, #ISORoommates

Today we welcome Leigh M. Lorien, who’s here to chat about her new release #ISO Roommates! I’ve also included an excerpt right at the bottom after the interview after Leigh’s bio.

Hello and first of all, thank you for letting me stop by! I’m super grateful for the opportunity. (Ally: You are most welcome!)

For anyone who follows this blog regularly, you may have read the post in February featuring Nell Iris and Ofelia Grand discussing their recent releases for the #Love submission call from JMS Books. I’m here to talk about my release for that same series, titled #ISORoommates (for anyone who missed Nell & Ofelia’s post, the theme of the #Love submission call was “love in the age of social media” and the story had to include some form of social media, real or not, and the title of each story starts with a hashtag, thus my title, #ISORoommates, wherein ISO means “In Search Of”).

In #ISORoommates, Marc and Sora meet when they move in to a new house. They each have their own reasons for the move, but both expect the new situation to be better—and it is, until the two of them butt heads over shared work spaces and polar opposite organization techniques (if you can call “throwing things around” an organization technique).

The story came to me while on a six-hour drive with my sister. She and I are both creative souls. We hoard craft supplies. We hoard things that could be craft supplies, someday. We hoard shiny things, cool rocks, bits of wire, random junk we find on the ground. We hoard cardboard boxes because, you know, that’s a really good box! You can never have too many boxes.

But our ideas of organization could not be more different. I lose everything I touch. Sometimes I don’t even need to touch it. I just think about it, and it is spontaneously absorbed into the chaotic abyss of my house, never to be seen again. My sister, on the other hand, is an organization junkie. She loves order. She has drawers and shelves and cabinets, things are labelled neatly, and everything has a place.

While discussing artsy habits, the concept of an opposites attract story featuring a disastrous, disorganized artist and his tidy opponent crept into my mind.

When I started writing this lovely artist character, he let me know he’s also transgender.

Aaaaand autistic.

Cool buddy, no pressure.

Sora isn’t the first trans character I’ve written, and he definitely won’t be the last. He’s not the first autistic character I’ve written, either. He is, however, the first autistic transgender artist I’ve written, so it felt a good deal like ripping my own heart out and smearing it all over the page.

Autism presents differently depending on gender. Most [neurotypical] people’s understanding of autism comes from the symptoms typical to cisgender boys and men, which are diagnosed and portrayed far more often. Cisgender women, and those of us assigned female at birth, often go undiagnosed and unnoticed since our presentation is different than what society “expects” autism to look like. Since Sora isn’t a cis man, I was able to use my own experiences to inform his character. The lack of social interest, withdrawing, panicking, hyper-focus, and meltdowns are all things that I’ve experienced as an AFAB person on the spectrum.

Sora’s love interest-slash-opposite, Marc, comes off as quite a dick initially, but it was very important that he be anything but. If I’m writing a transgender or autistic character in a relationship, they’re going to have a healthy, supportive partner. There’s no other option in my mind. Marc is not perfect, but no one is. The important thing is that he doesn’t question or belittle any aspect of Sora’s identity.

Anyway, if that’s not enough to sell you, did I mention there’s car sex? Who doesn’t love some good car sex.

#ISORoommates

The only thing Sora wants is to be left alone to do his art. When he moves into a house with three other people, he knows he’ll have to make some adjustments, but he didn’t count on one of his roommates being a neat-freak with no regard for personal boundaries. If there’s one thing Sora can’t stand, it’s other people telling him how to live his life.

Marc is excited to move in with new people. After his last break-up, he’s keen on being independent and focusing on his own hobbies. His new house has a garage, so he’ll finally get to work on his car! But Marc’s enthusiasm falls apart when he realizes his disorganized artist roommate, Sora, intends to work on his projects in the garage, too.

The two men could not be more opposite… or more similar. They each do their best to ignore the other, but the longer they spend together, the harder it becomes. It’s only a matter of time before sparks start to fly—but their differences may be too much to overcome. Can two fiercely independent men learn to let another into their space, and into their hearts?

Buy #ISORoommates

Meet Leigh!

Leigh M. Lorien is a queer author who got her start at the tender age of five, writing and illustrating her own Sonic the Hedgehog stories. Fortunately, her writing has improved in the subsequent decades. Nowadays, Leigh’s stories primarily lean toward science fiction, fantasy, and urban fantasy, but she has had some contemporary pieces sneak out of her head. Regardless of genre, her books will usually include sarcasm, strong relationships (romantic and platonic), polyamory/non-monogamy, magic, music, animals, mental illness, and less-frequently-represented queer identities.

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Excerpt of #ISO Roommates

Within just a couple minutes, Marc had grouped the paints into the standard color categories in rainbow order, plus pink, black, white, and gray. It was still just a rough pile of mess on the floor, but it was one step closer to tidiness. Sora leaned over, shifting onto hands and knees so he could examine the blue and green groupings. The way he looked, the way he sifted through, was haphazard and frantic, with no logical process.

“Stop it,” Marc said. “You’re just making it worse. Go logically.”

“What?”

He couldn’t believe he was teaching a fully grown adult how to look for something. In quick, small groupings, he shifted tubes from right to left, eliminating some based on brand or bottle shape, pausing longer on ones that matched one category to determine if they were what Sora wanted. When he reached the end of the blues and greens and hadn’t found the right one, he straightened up.

“At least now you know for sure that it isn’t here.”

“But it was here! That’s what’s killing me. I swear, I remember seeing it in one of these boxes when I was carrying them in here.” He groaned and lay back on the cold concrete floor with his hands over his face. “Sorry, this is just really frustrating. I’m always losing things. I hate it.”

“Maybe you should keep your stuff more organized.”

“Thanks, Mom, that helps.”

Marc frowned at the sharp tone. “Hey, no need to be a jerk about it.”

“I don’t have the time or energy to organize. I work. I have deadlines. I barely have time to sleep.”

Something about the way he said it sent a twinge of sympathy through Marc’s chest. While he couldn’t imagine, personally, being able to function in the disaster that Sora worked with, he did know what it was like to run yourself ragged trying to be in three places at once.

“I could help, if you want.”

Sora lifted his hand from his face and looked up the great distance to meet Marc’s eyes… or, something thereabout. He never quite made eye contact, Marc had noticed. Sora’s eyes and cheeks were red from the pressure of his hand, or maybe from the frustration of losing the paint he needed.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m okay though.” He sat up and started throwing the paints back in the box, just as haphazardly as they’d been before he’d dumped them—completely ignoring what Marc had tried to do to help him. Marc sighed and cast another glance at the disastrous workbench. There were a few bottles of paint sitting there among everything else, half hidden by a pile of canvases. Marc stepped over the mess on the floor and picked up each bottle in turn, checking the color. They were all blues and greens… and there, lying on its side behind all of them, was phthalo green.

“Hey,” he said. Sora looked up. “This what you need?”

“Holy shit!” The man sprang to his feet, wide-eyed. “Where was it?”

Marc gestured vaguely to the other paint bottles. “Behind stuff.”

“Jesus.” Sora took the bottle from Marc’s hand and held it to his chest like a precious item. “Thank you. Sorry.”

“Anything else you need help finding in this train wreck?”

“Not at the moment.”

“All right.” With a half-smile, Marc left the man to his devices and went back to his own project. This time, though, he couldn’t find the same deep concentration he’d had before. He kept glancing at Sora, though he wasn’t sure why. That one little comment about barely having time to sleep… the distress at the state of his workspace… An idea had crept into Marc’s head. He wasn’t sure if it was there for the right reasons, but it was there now and it wasn’t going away.

Buy #ISORoommates