Book Spotlight: Bobby Green by Amy Lane

Bobby Green
(Johnnies #5)
by Amy Lane
Date Released: February 6, 2018

About Bobby Green
Vern Roberts couldn’t wait to turn eighteen and get the hell out of Dogpatch, California. But city living is expensive, and he’s damned desperate when Dex from Johnnies spots him bussing tables.

As “Bobby,” he’s a natural at gay porn. Soon he’s surrounded by hot guys and sex for the taking, but it’s not just his girlfriend back in Dogpatch—or her blackmailing brother—that keeps him from taking it. It’s the sweet guy who held the lights for his first solo scene, who showed him decency, kindness, and a smile.

Reg Williams likes to think he’s too stupid to realize what a shitty hand life dealt him, but Bobby knows better. What Reg lacks in family, opportunity, education, and money, he makes up for in heart. One fumbling step at a time, they connect, not just in their hearts but in their bodies, where sex that’s not on camera, casual, or meaningless, becomes the most important thing in the world.

But Reg is hampered by an inescapable family burden, and he and Bobby will never fly unless he can find a way to manage it. Can he break the painful link to his unrealized childhood and grow into the love Bobby wants to give?




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A Guest Post by Amy Lane
Conservatorship

I didn’t get my driver’s license until a week before I turned eighteen—which meant I rode my bike to my first month of junior college, and to my job as well. So, me? A full-fledged adult?

I think not.

A week after I got my license, I got my mother’s conservatorship papers in the mail.

They said that, should I so choose, I was the closest blood relative, and I could assume custody from my grandparents and be responsible for a fully grown human being with a laundry list of mental health problems and an addictive personality.

Me? Are you kidding? I was still excited to drive two miles for milk! My job was at the local frostie, because, hey, I could ride my bike there! I mean, I was reading college textbooks that talked frankly about sex and had swear words in them, and those things made me giggle.

Me?

Uh, no.

I mean, I had an entire life of my own, right? Prospects? Places to go, things to do—I was still trying to get out of my hometown!

So no—I let my grandparents do the heavy lifting, and when they passed on, my uncles and aunts took over, bless them all.

But getting those papers in the mail stuck with me.

Because what sort of idiot sends an emotionally immature eighteen-year old conservatorship papers for a grown woman? One who taught her four-year-old kid how to shoplift gum and was just fine with the sexual deviants at the 7/11, because sometimes they had drugs? What kind of frickin’ broke down system allows that to happen?

Fuckin’ Jesus.

So when I decided I was going to open a vein for this one, and tap those experiences for Reg, it was the conservatorship papers that stuck with me. Yeah, I exaggerated for effect—put Reg in charge at sixteen illegally, and eighteen afterwards, but I couldn’t help thinking…

I’d had prospects at eighteen. I had real grownups, a father and a stepmother, in my life who would have a had few words to say about any dumbshit decisions I might make—and even the really good decisions, like, say Mate. I had reasons to selfishly decline a potentially disastrous situation, one that I was emotionally and financially unprepared for.

What if the adult I was supposed to be responsible for was my only person in a big scary world? What if she’d been my guardian, my savior, my confidant? What if her mental illness hadn’t been manifest since I was a small child? What if I kept hoping to see the woman who sang “Puff the Magic Dragon” to me, underneath all of the baggage?

How easy would it have been to sign those papers then?

It would be easy to write Reg off as sort of a goober, sort of an idiot, a sweet guy who got screwed and is okay with that.

But I was lucky. I had an unusual brain, and dreams, and people who loved me. The gods were smiling at me in spades, and I took their gifts and ran with them.

Reg had nothing but his big heart and the world gives you jack for being a good person.

I needed to give Reg a way out, even if it was ten years late. I needed to give him love and hope and a future.

I am acutely aware that only the luck of the gods separates my fate from Reg’s—it’s my only way to give back.

-----

Note: Thank you to Amy Lane for the guest post and to Hayley Leonovas for facilitating!




About Amy Lane
Amy Lane is a mother of two grown kids, two half-grown kids, two small dogs, and half-a-clowder of cats. A compulsive knitter who writes because she can't silence the voices in her head, she adores fur-babies, knitting socks, and hawt menz, and she dislikes moths, cat boxes, and knuckleheaded macspazzmatrons. She is rarely found cooking, cleaning, or doing domestic chores, but she has been known to knit up an emergency hat/blanket/pair of socks for any occasion whatsoever or sometimes for no reason at all. Her award-winning writing has three flavors: twisty-purple alternative universe, angsty-orange contemporary, and sunshine-yellow happy. By necessity, she has learned to type like the wind. She's been married for twenty-five-plus years to her beloved Mate and still believes in Twu Wuv, with a capital Twu and a capital Wuv, and she doesn't see any reason at all for that to change.

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