Author Spotlight; BT Urruela: A Lover's Lament
Hi Book Talkers!! Tomorrow is the one month-iversary of the release of BT Urruela's first solo novel Into the Nothing! If you haven't read it yet, I'd get on that. You don't know what you're missing. I had the absolute pleasure of meeting Mr. Urruela at Wicked Book Weekend in April and let me tell you, he is as humble as he is gorgeous. So it brings me great pleasure to do a spotlight on this truly talented man. I'm starting today by telling you all about BT's first book that he co-wrote with K.L. Grayson. Tomorrow is all about Into the Nothing.
~Lei
Title: A Lover's Lament
~Lei
Title: A Lover's Lament
Author: KL Grayson & BT Urruela
Publication Date: October 6, 2014
Genres: Romance, Military Romance
Blurb
In
a matter of seconds my entire world changed, and it was in that moment that I
stopped living and simply began to exist.
In my grief, I sent a letter to the first boy I ever loved. I hoped in writing it I’d find some peace from the nightmare I was living, some solace in my anger.
I didn’t expect him to write back. I wasn’t prepared for his words, and I certainly wasn’t ready for the impact this soldier would have on my life. A deep-rooted hate transformed into friendship, and then molded into a love like I’d never known before.
Sergeant Devin Ulysses Clay did what I couldn’t: he put the shattered pieces of my heart back together, restoring my faith in humanity and teaching me how to live again.
But now that I’m whole, I have a decision to make. Do I return to my life as I knew it and the fiancĂ© I left behind, or do I walk away from it all for the only man to ever break my heart?
***
I’ve been living in hell, but you won’t hear me complain.
These men depend on me, as I do them, and this brotherhood is the only family I’ve ever known.
The Army saved me from a callous mother and a life on the wrong side of the tracks that was quickly spiraling out of control. So unlike most of the men in my platoon, going home wasn’t something I longed for.
I was content overseas, spending my days defending this country that gave me my life back. Fighting became my new normal … until her.
A letter from Katie Devora—a letter that I almost didn’t open. Her words put a fire back inside of me that I didn’t know I’d lost. She gave me hope during a time when I was fighting every day just to stay alive, and now it’s time I fight for her.
In my grief, I sent a letter to the first boy I ever loved. I hoped in writing it I’d find some peace from the nightmare I was living, some solace in my anger.
I didn’t expect him to write back. I wasn’t prepared for his words, and I certainly wasn’t ready for the impact this soldier would have on my life. A deep-rooted hate transformed into friendship, and then molded into a love like I’d never known before.
Sergeant Devin Ulysses Clay did what I couldn’t: he put the shattered pieces of my heart back together, restoring my faith in humanity and teaching me how to live again.
But now that I’m whole, I have a decision to make. Do I return to my life as I knew it and the fiancĂ© I left behind, or do I walk away from it all for the only man to ever break my heart?
***
I’ve been living in hell, but you won’t hear me complain.
These men depend on me, as I do them, and this brotherhood is the only family I’ve ever known.
The Army saved me from a callous mother and a life on the wrong side of the tracks that was quickly spiraling out of control. So unlike most of the men in my platoon, going home wasn’t something I longed for.
I was content overseas, spending my days defending this country that gave me my life back. Fighting became my new normal … until her.
A letter from Katie Devora—a letter that I almost didn’t open. Her words put a fire back inside of me that I didn’t know I’d lost. She gave me hope during a time when I was fighting every day just to stay alive, and now it’s time I fight for her.
Excerpt One
Come to find out the shots were fired
by a bunch of frightened IPs in response to the explosion. This let the
checkpoint down the road to assume the other one was being overrun. Sure, why
not fire blindly toward another checkpoint based solely on assumption?
After
helping the IPs load the dead and wounded onto new trucks that arrived, we
eventually made our way back to base. The whole mess took the lives of fourteen
Iraqi Police and one dedicated suicide bomber. It stole six hours of our day.
As we quietly cruised the road back to base, I couldn’t help but wonder which
of those made me more upset. I’m a little ashamed of that.
After
reaching base and debriefing from our mission-- and getting my ass chewed out
by Dixon for taking matters into my own hands- my squad and I took up our usual
spots on lawn chairs around a fire pit as it is a giant ashtray, since protocol
dictates that we can’t have fires at night.
A
smattering of blue chemical lights cast a glow around us. The moon dominates
the night sky, shining flawlessly with the absence of pollution. We have
canteens full of oversweetened Kool-Aid and a carton of cigarettes between us.
We won’t smoke them all, but after missions we wish we could forget, we
certainly give it a valiant effort. The Army owns almost every hour of every
day we spend in this place, but this time… this is ours.
About
two canteens deep, my squad’s conversation turns to ‘sickest anal stories,’ but
I tune them out. I’m lost in the moment. I’m lost in that shining freckled orb
in the sky. I’m wondering who else could be looking at it too...at that very
moment. With my legs outstretched and hands behind my head, I nearly forget I’m
even in a combat zone. I lose myself in thought as the conversation flickers
around me. I shut my eyes and drift far, far away.
Excerpt Two
I wake before the sun has checked in
for the day and scan the tent, noting my men still sleeping heavily. My morning
ritual, at least the days I have time to do it, requires a bit of privacy, and
I make certain I have it before I begin. Most of these clowns will just jerk it
from their cots in the middle of the night with the rest of us passed out
around them. There’s always been something odd about that to me. On a regular
basis, I’ve woken up to the sounds of heavy breathing and skin slapping skin,
and it pisses me the fuck off. If I’m not dog-tired, they’ll get a boot heaved
in their direction, aimed straight for the dick and with the express purpose of
putting them out of business for a while.
No, jackin’ the beanstalk in public
isn’t for me. Unfortunately, that leaves only one other place to do it—the Drop
Zone. Porta-shitters, as we like to call them, sit for weeks without being
emptied and capture every bit of the sun’s heat. It’s like a fucking greenhouse
in there, and one breath in that motherfucker while beating off and your dick
is in full retreat.
So there’s a trick to doing this just
right; you have to prep him first. You get him up and going, and then you
quickly finish in the shitter. For most of these guys, the bikini-clad chicks
above their cots or the porno mags stashed in their bags are a necessity for a
proper jerk-off, but I’m an imaginative guy. I close my eyes and my mind
becomes like a time machine of fuck. Marilyn Monroe in Some Like it Hot …
bam! … cum everywhere. Farrah Fawcett in her iconic red swimsuit bent over the
counter … set the time machine and go.
This time my mind goes for none other
than Jackie O. She’s spread-eagle, with my tongue lightly flicking her
throbbing clit while she’s begging for my dick. And, of course, I’m making her
call me Mr. President. I laugh at the last thought but notice it’s at least
gotten the job started. Since my dick is half-mast and ticking its way to full
form, I slink my way to the tent’s entrance.
Stepping out, I’m met by the sun
creeping softly over the tops of the barriers, and I hurry toward the porta-shitters,
positioned just past the Humvees in front of the eastern wall. This
two-hundred-yard walk is the most important part of the process. You have to
walk with speed but not urgency, in hopes that you don’t attract attention from
the few others also awake—all while the imagined porn still reels in your head.
I manage to make it into the shitter
undetected and quickly go to work on my shaft while my left hand pinches my
nose like a vise and my eyes squeeze tightly shut. Only this time it isn’t
someone famous that I picture. It’s Katie.
Even as early as it is, the Drop Zone
is like a sauna, and beads of sweat collect on my forehead. I try desperately
to hold in my breath as the seconds tick down. Just as my lungs begin to demand
air and my body stiffens, I toss my head back with a stifled groan. My body
recovers from its high much quicker in this setting, but at least the job is
done. Two weeks of combat stress gone, just like that.
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About the Author
BT Urruela was an infantryman in the US Army from August 2004 until February 2011. At the end of a year long tour to Baghdad, Iraq, his vehicle was hit by two roadside bombs, which took his right leg below the knee and the life of his commander. He was awarded a Purple Heart for his wounds, an Army Commendation Medal, and Combat Infantryman's Badge. He medically retired from the Army in 2011 and moved to Tampa, FL where he currently works as a Director and Brand Ambassador for VETSports, a veteran community sports nonprofit he co-founded in 2012. He also conducts motivational speeches, works as a cover and fitness model and he's a personal performance trainer. He co-wrote the military romance novel A Lover's Lament and released his debut solo novel, Into the Nothing, on June 21st, 2016.
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