When
James Farrow's father decided he wouldn't have his 15 year old son
under his roof any more, the boy was taken into care. Now James is 18
and is no longer the responsibility of Social Services. He returns
home to an uncertain reception.
His
volatile father has mellowed over time but his son seems intent to
challenge his restraint. In the three years apart, James has taken
the first steps toward the future he wants. He wants to make the
transition to being the girl he wishes he had been born as.
With
a defiant brother and a vicious former friend opposing him, James
resumes a relationship with Tina, his friend since they were small
and she is the only support he feels he can rely on.
When
Tina declares her love for James, he is thrown into greater confusion
and realises he has feelings for her.
Tom
was in the living room gaming, with his music loud and pounding while
James was sat on a stool purloined from the kitchen. He was dressed
in a padded black bra, suspender belt and stockings and matching
underwear. He was peering into his pedestal mirror and cursing while
trying to apply his eye make-up. The mirror was poorly lit and he was
having trouble seeing if the shade he’d painted above his lid was
an even coating.
Pursing
his lips as he thought, he caught sight of his distorted face in the
mirror and frowned. He shook his head, put the delicate application
brush back in its box, tucked it onto the cupboard and stood up. He
walked to the door and tried to listen for movement but with Tom’s
metal music reverberating through the house, he couldn’t hear
anything. He turned the handle and slowly opened the door a fraction.
With
no sign of any activity, James quickly moved down the landing to his
parents’ bedroom and slipped inside. He scanned the room and saw
his mother’s make-up mirror sitting on her dressing table. It was a
large mirror with a circular bulb running around its outside and when
he examined it, he found it magnified too. He crawled under the table
and unplugged it and wrapped both his arms around it as he crossed
back to the door.
Opening
the door, he heard Tom’s feet thump on the stairs as he rushed
upward and he quickly pushed the door to. Standing beside the door in
just his underwear and stockings, James froze, wide-eyed. “Don’t
come in, don’t come in!” The mantra was repeated in a whisper
over and over.
He
freed an arm from holding the mirror, leaving it still carefully
cradled against his body with his other hand and he put his free hand
over his mouth silencing himself. He took a slow breath and let it
out, dreading his brother opening the door.
The
music downstairs still resounded around the building and James
realised he’d never have heard if Tom had shut himself in his
bedroom, headed back down the stairs or as was more likely, was in
the bathroom.
Cautiously,
he put his hand to the door handle. He pulled it slowly toward him.
Peering out, he could see a faint glimmer of light coming from under
the bathroom door. Should he make a dash for it? Should he push the
door to again and wait? He strained to hear. Nothing but the heavy
drum, whining guitar and raw, guttural vocals sounded. He stepped out
of the room, terrified the bathroom door would open. Quickly, he
pulled the door shut behind him and darted for his room, oblivious to
any sound he’d make.
As
he neared the door to sanctuary, he heard the flush of the toilet and
gasped out loud as it made him jump. “Shit, shit, shit!” James
hissed as he made a grab for his own door handle and forced it open
just as he heard the lock on the door behind him slide back. He
almost threw himself into the room and as he turned to shut his door,
he saw his brother come out of the bathroom. He pushed his door shut
and waited; he didn’t think he’d been seen but he couldn’t be
sure.
The
door to his room exploded open and crashed against the wall, the door
handle permanently marking the paintwork. Thomas forced his way in as
James stepped back in fear.
Thomas
glared at his brother, gazing up and down his partially clad body,
taking in the black lingerie at a glance.
Living
in England on the Hampshire / Surrey border, CJ is a married father
of three grown sons and has written for pleasure for more decades
than he cares to admit. Growing up on an old fashioned country
estate, he would often be found among the trees of a nearby wood with
a book for company. After receiving a generous payment to leave the
Ministry of Defence in one of the rounds of
Government budget economies, he turned his attention to writing with
an aim to publish. His first work ‘Her Name is James’ still rests
on a decision from a publisher and Dark Angel is the second complete
work but the first to be published. Dark Angel is the first of three
stories and though he wants to return to what he terms as “rip ya
heart out” stories that are character driven, he is firmly focused
on completing his current trilogy first. CJ is acquiring a following
for erotic poetry but his first passion is as a storyteller. News of
his current and future works can be found at his website
www.cjheath.com
Author links: Twitter Amazon/Author Goodreads/Author Blog
