Blast from the Past: The Boys of Summer

The Boys of Summer200x300

The Boys of Summer by Sarah Madison

Contemporary/Historical M/M Romance

Finalist in the 2013 Rainbow Awards. Nominated Best Historical in the Goodreads M/M Romance Reader’s Choice AwardsSelected as a Best Read in 2013 by Jessewave. Winner of Best M/M Romance in the 2013 PRG Reviewer’s Choice Awards. 


This couldn’t be happening. The plane couldn’t be going down.

As production assistant, David McIntyre has been enjoying the heck out of his current assignment: touring the Hawaiian Islands in search of the ideal shooting locations for a series of company projects. What’s not to like? Stunning scenery, great food, sunny beaches…and indulging in his crush on his hot pilot-for-hire, Rick Sutton.

Everything changes when a tropical storm and engine failure force a crash landing on a deserted atoll somewhere in the South Pacific. Sutton’s injuries and a lack of food and water make rescue imperative, but it takes an intensely vivid dream about the Battle of Britain to make David see that Rick is more than just a pilot to him. Will David gather his courage to confess his feelings to Rick—before it’s too late?

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People often ask me what was the inspiration for writing The Boys of Summer, and the answer is simple, really. I was merrily trucking along with my contemporary story, but I couldn’t shake the image of Rick Sutton in a WW2 RAF pilot’s uniform, leaning against the side of a Spitfire.

Well, that didn’t fit with the story I had in mind, but no problem. I’d introduce a little dream sequence that allowed me to use that powerful image. It would work because David McIntyre was researching Bletchley Park and Alan Turing for a film project he was working on—stranded on a deserted atoll with an injured pilot, having discovering a WW2 listening outpost, it would only be natural that his dreams would turn to WW2. Logically, I should have written about Pearl Harbor, seeing as the story takes place in the South Pacific. But that RAF uniform stuck with me. Right, so a little research online to get the details right about the time period and off I go.

Only the more I researched, the more appalled I became at my level of ignorance about WW2, and the Battle of Britain in particular. Sure, I’d heard Churchill’s speech about “Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few” but the words hadn’t completely registered with me before. It wasn’t until I read in detail about the Battle of Britain, and the odds these young pilots faced, that it really began to sink in. Many pilots were sent into battle with less than ten hours of flight time. At one time, the average lifespan of a fighter pilot in the RAF was six weeks. The more I delved into the history, the more important it became to me to do justice to their story. Sure, I could have written an entire novel just on that period in time, but it would have ended in tears. I needed a happy ending. I believe in happy endings. And so the weird amalgamation of historical and contemporary story was born. Some people hated it, but many more loved it. I hope you will, too.



“Hey! Hey! Don’t pass out on me,” David warned, reaching under Sutton’s jacket and around his body to take hold of his torso. “I’ll never get you out of here if you pass out, and I can’t reach whatever’s bleeding from here. I need to stop the bleeding, okay? You’re going to have to help me.”

Sutton nodded silently. His lack of heroic banter worried David. He tightened his grip around Sutton’s chest, locking wrists that were slick with far too much blood. Where the hell was it coming from? He braced his feet against Sutton’s chair and pulled.

At first, it seemed like nothing was happening, as though he was attempting to lift a two ton gold brick. Then slowly, he felt Sutton coming with him, oozing out of the seat like a man being pulled out of quicksand. Sutton wasn’t helping him much, a fact that scared the crap out of him. He’d slung one arm around David’s shoulder, but he was pretty much dead weight as David tugged on him. Nonetheless, things were progressing steadily, with David gradually pulling Sutton up out of the crumpled mess that was the pilot’s seat, when suddenly they stopped moving.

David grunted and tugged some more, but to no avail. He slithered around, trying to get a different grip on Sutton but nothing worked.

“Hang on,” Sutton said, his breath coming in short, warm bursts near David’s ear. “I think I’m caught on something.”

“What, again?” David asked, and was rewarded with a faint chuckle. It was odd to think he could so easily turn his head and his lips would be on Sutton’s. They were practically embracing now. As it was, Sutton shifted, trying to move his injured side, reaching around behind him. His actions caused him to arch his back slightly, pushing up against David’s chest. The rain had soaked through Sutton’s shirt, leaving no questions as to his physical fitness. They could have been skin to skin, the contact was so close.

“Fuck, that hurts.” Sutton slumped against him. “Sorry.” His words were little more than exhaled breath. “I can’t reach it.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” David huffed, pulling Sutton closer into his body and then fishing around blindly behind him to see what he was caught on. He found the offending piece of cloth, hung on part of the console. When he couldn’t unsnag it, he tore it instead. He collected Sutton into his grip once more. “Most heroes could get impaled in the belly at least once every other episode, and still manage to fight off the bad guys and get the girl in the end. You’re supposed to say, ‘I’m fine, I have at least two kidneys’ and keep moving, mister.”

A laugh so soft it only stirred the hair near his ear sent a ripple of undefined emotion through David. He was so afraid Sutton would die. He needed Sutton not to die.


Sarah Madison Author Bio and Contact Information

Bio: Sarah Madison is a veterinarian with a big dog, an even bigger horse, too many cats, and a very patient boyfriend. She is a terrible cook, and concedes that her life would be easier if Purina made People Chow. She writes because it is cheaper than therapy.



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