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MM Lover who is never afraid of casting David as her book boyfriend of the day.

A Place Called Home (Tales From Foster High, #5.5)

A Place Called Home (Tales From Foster High, #5.5) - John  Goode

First off, this is a jewel that I hope eventually all fans of “Foster High” get to experience.  While pulled from the hard drive as a treat for those “Kickstarters”, it is just a fabulous companion to the Foster High Series and really deserves its own place in the series as a whole.

To date we have experienced the relationships of Kyle/Brad and Matt/Tyler. This is slightly different in that this is really the story of Aaron (see below excerpt for his introduction in “Tales of Foster High”) and how he traded one personal prison for another, as he attempted to conceal from the world who he really was. It was in meeting Tommy that he woke up to the life he tried to ignore.

It was like a whole other part of me was waking up inside of me, a sense of having something I had been craving forever without once knowing its name.

Aaron is a complex and rich character that I would love to see more from in the future. I believe there is more of his beautiful story to tell.

In addition to beautiful words, John also shows his art for fire building…yes…there are more than a few pages on fire in this short lovely.  Whew!  What a nice surprise.  :D   


Excerpt from Tales from Foster High

"...We’ve been getting naked in front of you guys for years, and no one ever died from it. So what is different now?”

Mr. Raymond’s face was getting red now. “Mr. Parker, it’s like the military. Though we can’t condone it, if nothing is said—”

“No, it’s not,” another voice said, standing up. This one was in Navy whites and looked like a big guy.

“No fucking way!” Brad exclaimed.

“Who’s that?”

“Aaron White. He played ball for Granada last year.” Brad was obviously blown away.

It was obvious Raymond was losing it. “And who are you, young man?”

“Petty Officer White, and I can tell you that this hellhole is nothing like the military. I spent four years here hiding who and what I was, hating Foster the entire time because of it. I couldn’t wait to get out. What you’re doing is going to crush not only Brad but any gay player that comes after him. And you can try to justify it as morale or for the team, but it’s really just about you not liking gay people.”

More updates that I did not post that I would like to document.

Page 5 - In other words, that was when girls discovered me; and I really discovered I didn't like girls.

Page 6 - So when I became a senior and girls began to make their attraction known, I hid myself in them as hard as I could.

That came out sounding dirtier than I expected.

Page 15 - I had served eighteen years in Foster, Texas. The Navy was a joke. I suppose what I'm trying to say is that when only have a small part of your life that is yours, you don't want to worry about anything else.

Page 16 - The metaphor that I traded one prison for another wasn't accurate but it was the one that kept coming back to me. 

Page 34 - If I had been anywhere else doing anything else I would have thought I was suffocating. I couldn't catch my breath. My head swam and I felt my chest pound like I had just gotten done running laps but I knew this was anything but exhaustion. This was my first hit of a drug I knew I was going to never be rid of.

Page 37 - There are no words to describe how it feels to be a man and hold another man sexually. For girls, well most of them, they only know the embrace of a man under the covers so trying to convey the difference is like describing aromas to someone who can't smell. The way muscle feels against muscle, the hard against the hard...it is like nothing else in the world. The rough edge of his stubble on my face as I moved against him, the smell of his cologne mixed with soap and sweat. The feel of his leg moving against mine, there was nothing that didn't scream he was another man and it was doing things to me I had never dreamt of. It was like a whole other part of me was waking up inside of me, a sense of having something I had been craving forever without once knowing its name.