FREE excerpt link: Gay Fiction "Jonah Sweet of Delancey Street" #gay #lgbt
When Jonah Sweet enrolled in cooking school, he had a different vision of what he would be doing. He imagined creating artistic, colorful dishes with delicate baby asparagus and rich golden sauces. He pictured himself arranging perfect rounds of filet mignon around haricot vert salad with truffles and pine nuts. He would drizzle a rich red wine reduction sauce over a large square white plate so thin he could almost see through it. He would serve his culinary creations to well-dressed men and women who sat around tables covered with starched white linens.
He never thought he’d wind up chopping onions, boning slimy old chickens, and boiling eggs all day. Just touching raw chicken caused a pull in his stomach, and he kept forgetting to turn the hard boiled eggs off on time and wound up with cracked shells and green yolks. He’d only enrolled in cooking school because he couldn’t find a real job with his college degree: a master’s in puppetry from a well-respected university.
After a year without any luck at all in his job searches, his mom and dad suggested he should learn a trade. They thought cooking school would be something that might suit him. His mom said, “It’s either cooking school or you join the goddamn circus with those puppets.” His dad said, “We’d like to retire and move to Florida but we can’t while you’re still so needy, Jonah.”
They’d been talking about moving to Florida for the past four years. Jonah didn’t know what else to do; he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life working part time at Donutland in Queens. So he agreed to enroll in the Abernathy College of Cookery in Manhattan and stopped looking for work with puppets.
At night, when most people his age were out with friends having fun, Jonah was home in his childhood bedroom in Queens working on his puppets. They brought him to a secret wonderful place where nothing could ever harm him. They took him away from onions, raw chicken, and greasy faced cooking instructors who sneered at him no matter what he did. Some of Jonah’s secret puppets weren’t like any other puppets in the world. These puppets were all beautiful gay men with chiseled bodies and nice cocks. He named them and kept them categorized according to dominant and submissive. He designed outfits of black leather and lace, with handcuffs, masks, and boots. They had whips and chains, and shackles and clamps. He even designed a tiny little paddle so one of his favorite puppets could enjoy a good spanking every now and then.
On the spring morning he was supposed to be learning how to melt chocolate properly, the cooking instructor he liked the least stood over him and frowned. Jonah thought he’d followed directions; he’d even written them down just to be sure. But he turned up the heat too high and wound up with a dark gooey mess that took on an unusual burnt aroma. Instead of rich, creamy melted chocolate like the guy next to him, Jonah’s appeared cracked and separated. He tried his best to cover up the mess he’d made. He knew the instructor was watching and he didn’t want to look like a complete idiot. So he started whipping the chocolate faster to see if he could smooth it out. The faster he whipped the more it separated and the worse it smelled. The people on either side of him moved farther away and turned their heads. The instructor folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes.
Then Jonah dropped the wire whisk on the floor and everyone in the class flung him a look. When he bent down to pick it up, he accidentally wiped his forehead and left a smear of chocolate above his eyebrow. Without thinking, he scratched his nose and left a dark smudge above his lips. The guy behind Jonah poked the guy next to him and they exchanged a glance.
At the end of class, the instructor stood in front of everyone and smiled at his favorite students. He praised them for doing an excellent job and congratulated them on mastering the art of melting chocolate to absolute perfection. He didn’t say anything aloud to Jonah about his chocolate debacle. But Jonah knew what he was thinking. Jonah’s only other talent than puppetry was the ability to read minds, and the weaker the mind the easier they were to read. He heard everything the instructor was thinking as if he were speaking aloud. He sent Jonah a condescending glance and thought, “I hope you know how to use that hot little ass, you fucking idiot. Because there is no fucking way you’re ever going to make a living cooking as a real chef in a real restaurant unless you spread a little chocolate on someone’s cock and suck it all off with those sweet lips.”
Read more here: http://www.amazon.com/Jonah-Sweet-Delancey-Street-Field-ebook/dp/B008BMBDU0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422630874&sr=8-1&keywords=Jonah+Sweet+of+Delancey+Street+ryan+field