The Hot Man:
Want to reach out and touch cover model John Quinlan?
Using Broken Wings to Fly
Written for the Goodreads Love is Always Write Event
How did they expect him to retouch this damaged photo? George sighed and carefully rubbed at a spot. Great, this was one of Lucian LeTour’s rare remaining photos. The restorer hated feeling like he failed in his task. The photo seemed damaged beyond repair. George rubbed around the downcast eyes.
The eyes flicked upward. They stared in terror.
George lunged back in alarm.
“Help me. Please help me. They know where I hide. Help me.”
“Help you?” Recovering, he tried to sound nonchalant, though his heart hammered louder than the cranky pump in the film-processing darkroom. “I think I’ll pass. I have my hands full right now. My ex-wife calls twice a day, just checking to see if I’ve gotten over being gay, my son ignores me, and my boyfriend, who by the way, just bought a pair of pink leather oxfords, wants a fucking commitment. So, I’m tied up at the moment, but I’ll have my people get back to you.”
Not that he had "people" anymore, since becoming a falling-down drunk led to being fired from his spot on a national news show, but what the fuck, it wasn't as if the angel was real. Since Afghanistan, George saw all kinds of shit that wasn't real.