Christmas is a time for giving - what do you do when no one gives a damn?

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For Zachary Weston Christmas means sleeping on a churchyard bench in the freezing snow with nothing better in his future. Thrown out of his home for being gay, he is left without money or, it seems, anywhere to go.

Until a stranger shows him that some people do give a lot more than a damn.

Ben Hamilton is a rookie cop in his small home town. He finds a young throwaway, fresh from the city, sleeping on a bench in the churchyard on a snowy Christmas Eve. Can he be the one to give Zachary his own Christmas miracle?
*****

Reviews for The Christmas Throwaway

Hearts on Fire Reviews This book surpasses even my favorite R.J. Scott book Oracle. Anyone interested in The Trevor Project needs to read this amazing and heart warming book of love, acceptance and compassion. I whole heartedly recommend this book to everyone you won’t be disappointed.

Queer Magazine Online Reviews The Christmas Throwaway is a charming, heartwarming love story about second chances, overcoming obstacles, and the importance of a loving, supportive family. I'd highly recommend this book to anyone in the mood for a sweet story which will not only leave you feeling good, but will also remind you to count your blessings.

Jessewave Reviews The Christmas Throwaway touched me, not because Zach was homeless at 17 and had been thrown out of his home by his father one week before Christmas, but his character was so vulnerable and innocent that it would take a much harder heart than mine to resist him. However, this book is a dichotomy. It’s so sweet in some parts but quite harsh and realistic in others. Two years after they met the ending was everything I could have hoped for. There issex but it’s not at the level that some readers are accustomed to, however I would urge you to read Zach’s and Ben’s beautiful story. Definitely recommended.

*****

Excerpt

Zach had so hoped to avoid the law, cautiously optimistic that the churchyard might be a place of sanctuary on Christmas Eve.

"Sorry," he said quickly, scrambling to his feet as fast as he could manage, which wasn't entirely that fast considering the aching cold that seemed to split his very bones in two. He cursed as his blanket fell from his numb hands and landed in the snow at his feet. That was the only warmth he had, a threadbare piece of material he had stolen from Goodwill when the woman in charge turned her back. And now the damn thing was going to be wet.

Still, there was no time to worry about that; the cop wanted him moved on. He leaned down to pick it up, only to see the ground spinning up to his face at an alarming speed. Strong arms stopped him from face-planting in the snow, but he twisted out of them quickly. The man might be a cop, might wear a badge, but no one touched him. Zach knew what men could want from the child he still was. He wasn't stupid, and he had dodged enough of it in the city.

"How old are you?" the cop asked, looking concerned and very much in authority.

"Eighteen," Zach lied quickly. He took a step back until his thighs hit the back of the bench he had been resting on. The cop stepped with him, looming large despite being a few inches shorter than Zach, his face creased in a frown.

"How old are you really?" the cop persisted, his expression calm, his voice low and curious.

Zach bit his lower lip, feeling the hot blood against his tongue, the shivering inside him starting to manifest in shakes he knew even the cop would see. Carefully Zach lifted the blanket, damp and ice cold, trying to create a barrier between himself and the police officer with the intense gaze.

"Seventeen," Zach finally said, willing his teeth to stop chattering, "but I'll be eighteen in a few days." He added the last bit, giving the cop an out. He wanted to add just leave me alone, I won't hurt anyone.

"Ben Hamilton," the cop said softly, holding his hand out as if he wanted to shake Zach's. Zach was confused, waiting for the glint of cuffs, uncertain, and he dug his hands deeper in the wet blanket he was holding. The cop, this Hamilton, didn't move his hand, just held it firm and steady. Finally Zach thrust his cold hand out, the texture of the officer's leather gloves soft and strange beneath his touch.

"Zach," he introduced himself softly, remembering not to mention his surname. The cop didn't push him on it, just nodded and pulled his hand away.

"So, Zach, what's happened to you? Why are you lying on the bench at the Church of St. Margaret on Christmas Eve?"

The officer wasn't shouting; he was asking quietly, but Zach immediately started to go on the defensive. There was a concerned twist to the cop's mouth, and he had narrowed his eyes as he asked.

"I…" Zach stopped, assessing the lies he could spin, thinking of the stories he had used to persuade people to leave him alone. Nothing crystallized as right for this moment in time. There was something to this cop, a man who seemed not much older than he was, an officer who wasn't a city cop, but a small town cop. He wouldn't be part of the system the same way as the cops in the city who said he should go home. I don't have a home. Maybe… maybe he should tell him the truth?

"I can't be at home right now," he said finally, wincing as the cop's gloved hand traced the bruises over his left eye and down his jaw line.

"Who did this to you, Zach? Did this happen here in this town?" The officer's words spun a safe haven for sharing secrets, soft, insistent and not very cop-like. Zach shied away instantly from the gentle touch, an icy blade of uncertainty pinching his skin as he contemplated being in the dark church grounds on his own with this man. He seemed friendly enough, but what if it was just another act? Cautiously, and trying not reveal his intentions, he looked to his left and then to his right. If he was going to run, he needed a head start and being held or cornered would take that head start away. To the right, dense foliage blocked an exit, to the left was the gate to the churchyard and the shadowy grave stones. That was his best bet. He shifted his weight to his right foot, ready in a moment to push himself away and to vault the gate. His leg shook with the added pressure, and he knew he would probably fall at the first hurdle. Still, any plan offered more hope than no plan.

"I fell," he said firmly, the same line he had used for most of his life, the same line that earned him looks that ranged from pity to doubt. When he had said those words to people from organizers at the soup kitchen, to cops on the corner, to the owner of the homeless hostel, he had been sworn at, propositioned, cried at, or pushed away in disgust. He wasn't expecting much from another man in authority.

"Uh huh." The officer didn't push for any more information, just nodded at the simple statement and took a step back and away. He spoke directly into his radio. "I'm heading home now. It was nothing to worry about at the church." Static broke the calm of the snow-deadened air, and a tinny voice acknowledged the radio message with a series of codes and a single name, Ben. The cop looked back at Zach, and Zach gauged that now the cop was two steps away from him, heading for the gate would be easier. "You can't sleep here. I'll find you a room for tonight, and we'll deal with the rest in the morning."

Zach's eyes widened. He wasn't going anywhere with any stranger, not unless he was under arrest. This cop was going to find him a room? Probably some out of the way no-tell motel. Shit. No way this side of never was that happening. He had barely got away with his life two nights before from a proposal far more wrapped in the suggestion of hope than what the cop was giving him. Zach was so past being gullible.

Pulling himself to his full height, he thinned his lips in determination. He was not swapping one hell for another, not a chance.

"No. Thank you, but, no, I have to… go to the station for the train." He tried not to let hopelessness into his voice, attempted to sound self-assured around the chattering of his teeth. He sounded out the words in his head, and he knew exactly what he was saying. He clearly had some sort of purpose for being on the bench in the snow on Christmas Eve and the cop should respect that. It was a free country.

"Okay, Zach," the cop sighed, "we can do this one of two ways. It's late, and it is the night before Christmas. I really want to go home to be with my family and you are kind of making this all very difficult. Now you can come with me, get a decent meal, a shower and maybe some warmer clothes and then you can sleep for the night in a warm bed. This can be all your own choice, or I can make it official and arrest you, then force you to go."

*****

16 comments:

  1. Don't sue me but... If I have to be honest, although this cover is really nice but I prefer the original one. Yep, I know- I'm biased, I'm too fond of the old one. (^_^;)

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    1. ROFL.. why would I sue you? Silver aren't allowing authors to take their art... so new art... I like the new one better... something about it captures the darkness of the story at the beginning... HUGS XXXX

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    2. Wait! I didn't know you were re-publishing it by yourself! So, they don't allow the use of their art... but technically speaking, isn't the art property of the artist, in this case Reese Dante? Oh well.
      I was attached to the old cover because that was my first book of yours! ^w^ But that's not an excuse! If there's something new in this re-published edition, I have to own this too!
      By the way, when will it be out? :D
      I also can't wait to buy New York Christmas, I loved it as a short story! <3

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    3. Yep... rights revert on my request on 1 December... and Silver (and I am assuming Reese) have a block on people buying their art if they are moving the books away... shame... but never mind I am getting some awesome art and it's like a fresh new book... HUGS X

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  2. The cover is gorgeous. Really, really gorgeous. Is the cover the only thing new? This was the first of your books I read. And as you know, I've read almost everyting since and loved them all. It is still one of my absolute favorites. Not just of yours, but of all the books I've read. I still read it all the time. UGH!!! I sound like such a dork, but It doesn't change the fact that I love your books!

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    1. Hello you! Not a dork at all... :)

      There may be a couple of amended parts, small and hardly noticeable... mostly it is just a new cover now i have the rights back and am publishing it myself.

      RJ XXXXXXXX

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  3. This book is unforgetable!

    It prompted me to write my senators in Washington to as they do all they can to mandate a policy requiring parents who"throw their children away" be required to continue to support them until they finish their schooling so as to be able to support themselves.

    I will bet that the parents continue to claim these children as an income tax deduction even after forcing them to leave their homes.

    Every one should read this book.

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    1. Oh my goodness... wow... what a wonderful thing to hear... thank you so much for telling me... HUGS XXXXX

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  4. Really lovely cover art - and a fabulous excerpt and premise. Congrats on self-publishing it and on your awesome reviews. :)

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    1. Thank you so much hun... I love the new art... :) HUGS RJ X

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  5. You don't know how much this book touched me, Ms. Scott.

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  6. I LOVE this new cover! This was the first book of yours that I read! I think I must have this incarnation as well...it's a beautiful cover!

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    1. aww that is such a nice comment.. thank you ... HUGS XXXX

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  7. Hi RJ,
    i just had a flying visit from my postman.
    Oh wonder,oh wonder it's a book.And it's not by a long chalk, christmas.
    It's ''The Christmas Throwaway'', with the old cover, i hope the story is the same.
    When not, or you changed it a little bit, i must buy it as ebook.
    Give me order what i have to do.

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    1. Hi! Oh wow... i hope you like... the new cover is because I am directly selling it now... there isn't a paperback as yet... :)

      I haven't changed the story at all... :)

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