This is the story of Kevin and me; I’m Jimmy. Our story is not long, and it’s not complex. It’s not something to cry over, and it’s certainly not something to moan about. Our story is simple, and for that, I feel blessed, being able to grow, live, laugh, and love with the one person I was meant to be with.
It has been that way for as long as I can remember.
My Kevin by Bronwyn Heeley
2nd edition publish 24th of May 2015 by BonyDee Press
Contemporary NA Romance
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Those where the points his mind wouldn’t let go of. He’d been hurt. It hadn’t been because people were cooing and ahhing at them, wanting to see the cuteness of two small boys kissing. A calendar marker or something. He’d simply been hurt.
Kevin squatted down in front of him, cupped his chin to make Jimmy look at him. He asked what had happened, and Jimmy would have answered. He wasn’t sure what, but each time the memory came round, he was sure words had actually happened between them. Filling in a moment he’d started to forget.
He remembered the serious look on Kevin’s face as they had spoken, the gentle hands as he fixed what was broken, and then a simple brush of lips against lips.
Kevin never remembered this as a kiss exactly. It’s not as if he’s forgotten that it happened or he just flat out refused its existence, more that it wasn’t anything different, or unusual for him, so it floated away as part of the past.
Kevin’s family touched, kissed, hugged, and praised, which was so completely different from what happened in his house that he was always shockingly surprised when their affection focused on him.
To Jimmy, it had been a beautiful shock. Even in its simplicity.
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Bronwyn was always the 'wait until the movie comes out' kinda girl. This was because reading wasn't her strongest point; the only books she was able to read were Baby Sitter Club: Little Sister and Paul Jennings anthologies
Add a 2yr old and another on the way, she needed a hobby, which she found in reading. Picking up a book opened a whole new world to her, one she never thought she'd ever be able to enter.
If you want to learn more drop her a line or visit, she’s more than willing to chat
Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org