Edge of Forever by Barbara Elsborg

Edge of Forever by Barbara Elsborg

Edge of Forever by Barbara Ellsborg.

When you stand on the edge, you might just find yourself falling.

Teaching Russians how to be cowboys? Levi thinks his father is joking when he tells him that’s what he wants him to do for the next six months. Working in the frozen desolation of southwest Russia he’ll earn enough to buy a new barn for their Montana ranch. But there’s a deeper agenda for sending him to the edge of nowhere. It will stop him sloping off on Saturday nights to gay bars and clubs for threesomes with strangers.

Pasha finally pushes his father too far and is banished to a remote ranch in the middle of a snowy Russian winter. Stripped of all the trappings of his privileged Moscow lifestyle, he has nothing at his disposal but a suitcase of designer clothes and a whole lot of sass…


Edge of Forever by Barbara Ellsborg

EDGE OF FOREVER 

by Barbara Elsborg

Teaching Russians how to be cowboys? Levi thinks his father is joking when he tells him that’s what he wants him to do for the next six months. Working in the frozen desolation of southwest Russia he’ll earn enough to buy a new barn for their Montana ranch. But there’s a deeper agenda for sending him to the edge of nowhere. It will stop him sloping off on Saturday nights to gay bars and clubs for threesomes with strangers.

Pasha finally pushes his father too far and is banished to a remote ranch in the middle of a snowy Russian winter. Stripped of all the trappings of his privileged Moscow lifestyle, he has nothing at his disposal but a suitcase of designer clothes and a whole lot of sass. Pasha hates the countryside, hates physical work, hates the cold and hates cows. But deprived of money, phone, and access to anyone who might help him, he’s screwed and not in a good way.

Levi’s counting down the days till he can return to the States and his Saturday night hook-ups. Then Pasha arrives at the ranch wearing eyeliner, retching every time he walks into a barn, and Levi is amused, irritated—and attracted. After a vicious attack on Pasha throws them into close quarters, both men are forced to re-evaluate not just who the other is, but whether they truly want to return to the lives they left behind.

When you stand on the edge, you just might find yourself falling in love.


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Extract:

Eventually, cold and worry about getting lost drove Pasha back. But when he reached the edge of the trees, all he could see was snow, no ranch in the distance and no boot prints to follow. Had he emerged at a different point? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Almost before he had time to finish cursing, he heard a low rumbling growl behind him and he froze. That couldn’t be what he thought it was.

A louder growl and he knew a bad situation had become a whole lot worse. Icy fingers trailed down his spine and he shivered. Wolf? Wild boar? The lesser known growling owl? Someone playing a trick? Pasha didn’t want to turn but knew he had to. One thing he’d learned early on in life was that enemies were better faced rather than giving them the chance to creep up behind.

He swivelled round hoping to be confronted by a fox with a sore throat, but no, it was a snarling wolf with its hackles up. He glanced beyond the one he could see. Not just one, five of the things. Shit.

“Good doggies,” he whispered.

He took a step back and the lead wolf took a step forward. If Pasha had ever been told or had read how to handle this situation, because at one point in his teenage years he’d loved adventure books, stories of everything he’d never chance in real life, all memory of what to do if confronted by a pack of wolves was now buried beneath an avalanche of fear and a tsunami of adrenaline, both urging him to run.

Pasha was fairly certain following that instinct would get him into more trouble because if there was a right way and a wrong way, he inevitably picked the wrong way. Would they chase a ball of snow? Well, maybe once but not twice. They’re not dogs, you idiot. But he didn’t want to throw a snowball, he wanted to run.

Don’t. Wolves were predators. Wild dogs had attacked people in Moscow who hadn’t been doing anything more than take a stroll along a street. But wolves… Nope, they’d be delighted if he ran and they’d be a whole lot faster than him.

The lead wolf took another step and growled from deep in its throat, a sound that would have made Pasha piss himself if there had been anything in his bladder. Annoyance suddenly overwhelmed his fear. Pasha growled back and added, “Fuck the hell off. I think my life is shit enough without you making it worse.”

Instead of retreating, he flung out his arms and stomped forwards through the snow back into the wood. See, Dad? This is your fault. When they find my chewed-up body, you can blame yourself for sending me here. “I’ve done absolutely fucking nothing to deserve this. Scram, scoot, skedaddle.” Please. Maybe he should articulate the please rather than think it. “Please.”

The wolves arranged themselves in a semi-circle—Pasha hoped to God it wasn’t a full circle, though he wasn’t turning to check—and stared at him. Oh Christ, what a photo-op. He flicked his camera onto video mode. Climbing over his fear was the thought that maybe these wolves would be the last things he ever saw.

“Shit, shit,” Pasha whispered. “Not sure I wanted this sort of fame. One of YouTube’s most popular clips. Idiot Russian films wolves as they eat him. Warning. Some viewers may find this disturbing.” He let out a shaky sigh. “Please don’t eat my cock.” Words he’d never thought he’d have to say.

 

 

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