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I’m not a good man.

I’m not a bad man.

But I’ve made some bad mistakes, made the wrong choices. Who hasn’t? But the consequences are tearing us apart.

I love two people.

I love them differently.

The world tells me I have to choose. Why? Why do I have to choose?

Loving hurts.

Dancing heals.

Love makes you soar, makes you fly and sets you free—and then it lets you freefall until you’re smashed and bleeding on the ground. Ultimately, love is the worst thing that can happen to a human being.

In my opinion.

I love two people.

I love them differently.

One is a man.

One is a woman.

And they are brother and sister.


Jane Harvey-Berrick

Expected Release Date: 16 June 2016

Book Series: 

One man, two roads… I fell in love with the first book in this series almost immediately, and have been patiently waiting for Ash’s best friend’s story ever since. Feast your eyes on the stunning cover of Luka and enjoy an amazing excerpt that gave me goosebumps…

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“What’s your story, Luka? I already know all these gossipy little Tinkerbells. How did you come out, beautiful?”

Seth pulled a face, and I knew he was worrying that I’d tell them I was bi. I was tempted, and not just because of the four glasses of champagne I’d drunk.

“A teacher at school saw me being sucked off by an older guy in the locker rooms at school.”

There was a shocked silence.

“Shite, sorry,” said Eugene. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just one of those dinner party questions…” his words tailed off.

I shrugged.

“I got called fegi, fag, gay, for years because I went to dance classes. I beat the shit out of anyone who called me that. They left me alone pretty much. I didn’t think of myself as gay.”

“Obviously not if you got sucked off in a changing room by an older boy,” sneered Julian.

“Since I’d been dating girls, yeah, it surprised me,” I said calmly.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Seth said tightly.

That made me pissed, because I knew it wasn’t concern for my feelings.

“I don’t mind,” I said, throwing him a challenging look.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed.

“The teacher told the Principal, and the Principal told my parents. My mother hit me so hard she knocked out a tooth. My dad threw me out, so I went to live with my grandmother.” I paused, seeing the looks of acknowledgement and recognition on their faces. “Things were better after that.”

“How old were you?” Eugene asked gently.

“Fourteen when it started; fifteen when they found out.”

I picked up my champagne flute and took a long drink.

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(standalone stories with interconnected characters)

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