My Arcana: Queen of Pentacles releases from Torquere Books on Feb 13.
Trey Donovan has a good job, close friends and loves living in his hometown of Reno. The only thing lacking from his life is a special someone to share it with, which is more of a problem to his best friend, and boss, Demitri, than it is for Trey. Demitri urges Trey to learn to trust despite some bad experiences in the past, but when Demitri’s old college pal Gabe Walsh shows up, and shows an interest in Trey, Demitri is quick to step between them, almost ruining Trey’s chances at happiness.
Trey slowly became aware of the dull ache behind his eyes and then the pressing need to take a leak. He groaned, rolled onto his back and pressed a hand against his forehead.
“Shit, how much did I drink last night?”
“I don’t know. I lost count after the third bourbon chaser.” Gabe’s voice, thick with sleep, answered him.
“You let me drink bourbon?” Trey sat up, wincing as his head pounded in protest. “Oh, God.”
“Bilious,” Gabe replied.
Gabe laughed. “No, Bilious is the name of the ‘Oh God of Hangovers.'”
“What?” Trey turned to look over his shoulder and regretted it as his head throbbed in protest.
“Terry Pratchett… Discworld?” Gabe stared at him wide-eyed for a moment and then shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Uh — just tell me which way’s the bathroom?” Trey stumbled to his feet.
“Out that door and straight across the hall,” Gabe replied. “There are pain pills in the cabinet above the sink.”
Gabe was in the kitchen, busy making coffee when Trey emerged a few minutes later.
“I brought the Advil with me,” Trey said, setting the bottle on the table.
“Thanks,” Gabe shot him a glance. “I’ve got the coffee on, and I’ll have something greasy ready for breakfast in two shakes.”
“I don’t think I could…”
“Seriously, it’s the best cure for a hangover, man. Bacon, eggs, plenty of grease.”
“No, really, I think I’ll pass.” Trey sat at the table, cradling his head in his hands.
“Your choice,” Gabe said.
“You don’t get hungover, do you?” Trey looked up, watching as Gabe bustled around the kitchen, preparing food, the smell of which made Trey’s stomach growl, despite the bilious feeling.
“Not often,” Gabe replied. “I guess I built up a resistance in college.”
“I hate you,” Trey said.