When I first wrote my short story, “The Emmett File,” I had no idea it was going to cause so many arguments. I just through it was a cute, happy story about love and a charismatic British dude named Emmett. Instead, I sent the staff of one magazine into an uproar as they debated love versus gender versus sexuality. (Needless to say, the story got rejected from said magazine.)
“The Emmett File” is a love story in which a straight male falls in love with a gay male and they actually have a successful short term relationship that alters both their lives. The big debate: Can you love someone (really, really love them) with no regard for their gender or sexuality? Can you love someone just because of who they are?
Let me know what you think, as “The Emmett File” is now featured at Erotic Review Magazine. Here, have a taste, and follow the link at the bottom to read the whole dang thing.
“The Emmett File”
An Excerpt by Sara Dobie Bauer
Featured in Erotic Review Magazine
Emmett’s odd pizza creation was perfect. The IPAs were perfect. When we stepped into the summer air, even the night felt perfect. The sun had set, but tiny twinkle lights illuminated the immortal desert trees that lined the center of Mill Avenue. Kids were out in droves looking for a buzz. I floated on my full belly, my beer, and the presence of the man at my side.
“Nightcap at my place?” he asked.
“Of course.” I smiled.
Emmett’s apartment was exactly like him: charming and odd.
“Go on.” He waved his hand at me as he approached the kitchen. “Go through my things. Figure out all my secrets. Damn writers,” he muttered into the humming glow of his open fridge.
I thought I was bad, but Emmett’s book collection rivaled the Library of Congress. Several were textbooks. I recognized about a half dozen dog-eared Jane Austen novels. There was science fiction, horror, and comedy. No self-help. No surprise.
He didn’t have pictures on the walls. The wallpaper itself was decoration: an atrocious pattern of reds and oranges that mimicked cheap hotel lobby carpet.
He stepped to my side and gestured to the wall. “I didn’t do that. Came like that.”
“Sure, Emmett.” I accepted the beer from his hand. I took a few steps forward and then turned in a circle. “It’s funny. The only thing about you without personality is your apartment.”
“Probably because I’m never here.” He casually rubbed one thumb over his bottom lip.
I turned away to picked up a copy of Fahrenheit 451. “You might love books as much as I do.”
I tossed Bradbury on a crooked pile. “Maybe.”
I felt his hand on my lower back, which made me stand up straight and face him. I expected a pithy comment; he dealt them like cards. Instead, he leaned in and kissed me, once, on the lips. His lips were surprisingly soft. Then again, I’d never kissed a man before. Maybe other men’s lips were usually soft. He went in for another, and I dipped my head.
“Uh-h …” I muttered.
“What?” He had his hand on my shoulder.
“Emmett, I’m not …”
I watched his eyes close. He pulled his hand off my shoulder. “Fuck, I usually have spot on radar for this. Shit.” He tugged his hand through his hair.
I felt an unfamiliar desperation, a fear of losing this friend I barely knew. Maybe it was the fear of losing a character like Emmett. “Please don’t make this weird. I’ve been here two weeks, and you’re the only person I’ve had a conversation with.”
“Charlie, God, I’m sorry.” He took another step away from me and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You just seem really comfortable around me. We went to dinner together. You kept staring at me.”
“Was I really staring at you? I’m sorry. It’s a cataloguing thing for writing. It’s probably why women think I’m creepy.”
Emmett smiled. Just like that, I knew the storm had passed.
READ THE REST AT EROTIC REVIEW HERE.