Christmas with Wistan

By D.J. Manly

Brandon Archer, a gorgeous and successful New York City erotica writer, hates Christmas. In fact, it brings back a lot of bad memories from his childhood. On Christmas Eve, instead of getting into the spirit with family and friends, he decides to spend it having anonymous sex with strangers.

A taxi ride that he thinks will take him to his favorite gay bar will take him somewhere else completely. Frozen in time with Wistan, a giant of a ghost with a grudge to bear and a hard on for Brandon to boot...Brandon is about to take a trip back though his life...showing him what it would have been like if Wistan hadn’t given him the gift of writing...warning him to reform himself...or lose the gift forever!

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Jul 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781554106585

D.J. Manly

D.J. Manly is first and foremost a writer, but is also a college professor, a small business operator and a sociologist who works as a consultant on research projects. D.J. is a proud Canadian who lives in French Canada, and speaks both English and French. Human rights are a great concern, and D.J. longs for a peaceful world free of sexism, racism, and homophobia. D.J. writes for the pure love of writing, and always with the reader in mind. If D.J. doesn't enjoy reading it, it won't be written. Great characters, great sex and a great love are the elements you’ll find in D.J’s work. There is nothing quite as exciting as beautiful men falling in love. Come taste D.J’s work, but be careful, you may become as addicted to reading it, as D.J. is to writing it. One reviewer said of Manly’s work that reading it can give you “…third degree burns in an air conditioned room…” I think that says it all.

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Christmas with Wistan

Copyright © 2005 Brandon Archer

ISBN: 978-1-55410-658-5

Cover art and design by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Book, 2005

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www.extasybooks.com

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DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to Wistan. Without his intrusion into my life, it would have never been written.

Part One

I knew I was drunker than usual that night, but then it was a few days before Christmas and that was a good enough excuse. Christmas had always sucked big time for me. My father was an alcoholic; and my mother--well, what can I say about my poor mother, except she was one of those women born totally without a backbone. I dreaded Christmas more than anything as a kid. My father had time off from his job on the police force, and he would drink indiscriminately, using the holidays as an excuse. Umm…sounded familiar, didn't it?

Anyway, then he just got mean. My brother and I used to go up to the attic and stay there until he passed out. I have always drunk although I would never have classified myself as a falling-down drunk. I have no idea what had suddenly taken me from my usual two whiskeys a day to too many to count. Like I said, could have been Christmas, or it could have been, that despite my fame and fortune as a top selling author, and the beautiful men waiting in line to suck my cock…and do various other pleasurable things to me, I was pretty miserable. Even my closest friends were beginning to give me that 'what in the hell is going on with you?' look.

And then the worst thing had happened, at least according to the big boys at my New York City publisher. I had stopped writing. The fact, that all I could produce as of late was crap, and more crap, was not pleasing anyone, including myself. So, I drank. My agent nagged me. My publisher nagged me. I tried to write. I read what I wrote, and I drank some more.

When I had my first best seller three years ago, which according to reviewers was the most innovative male/male erotica to appear in this genre ever; it went immediately to my head. My publisher, who had my manuscript sitting on his desk for two years, unread, and always called me Dougie, began to remember that my name was actually Brandon. The publisher was on his knees…literally actually…but that's a whole other story. Dollar signs were in everyone's eyes. Damned if I know how it really happened. I submitted a book. I waited, and waited, and waited. Then, I didn't wait anymore. I began to phone and phone, and finally I got an answer. It was, What manuscript? We didn't receive a manuscript from any Doug Archer. Brandon Archer, I told them for the tenth time. Eventually, they found it. Someone read it. I was offered a contract.

By some miracle, I had found a niche. I knew I was a good writer, although I don't know if I would have called myself a great one. My success appeared to be based on a carefully entwined method of timing and craft, which had somehow inched me out there above others. Anyway, it was beyond my understanding, and when I received my first royalty check, I didn't give a shit. I was finally making a living from doing what I loved. People were actually willing to pay for something that came out of my head. It was wild! Although I never did have a shortage of willing lovers, now they formed