Taxes and TARDIS

Taxes and TARDIS

Taxes and TARDIS Stand Alone Novels & Shorts

Brent is a jock, Logan a geek, these men are a world apart. But if opposites attract, maybe it’s the differences between them that make it worth the fight.

Brent Kelly is a laid-back tradesman whose only concerns are drinks with friends and which man to bed next. In need of a new accountant to sort out his nightmarish shoebox of tax receipts, he’s referred to Logan Willis.

He doesn’t expect to be intrigued by the science fiction-loving, geeky guy with dark-rimmed glasses and a TARDIS blue shirt. So his fascination with the soft-spoken Englishman surprises him, and their mutual attraction is completely unexpected. He most certainly never expects to fall in love.

One a jock and the other a geek, both men know the differences between them are vast and could cause problems. But in this opposites-attract erotic drama, maybe it’s the differences between them that make staying together worth the fight.


Traffic on a Friday afternoon in the central business district was hell. After two laps around the block, I finally found a parking space. I pulled my truck into the too-damned-small spot, grabbed the old shoebox off the front seat and walked quickly back to my intended destination.

It wasn’t very often I ventured into the business district. And as I walked into the building fronted by glass, I remembered why. My reflection was a stark reminder of just how underdressed I was. Compared to the expensive suits walking around filled with their own importance, my work boots and plaid overshirt were somewhat outclassed.

Following the signs, I walked down the expensive hall to the expensive office with the expensive desk. “Brent Kelly,” I said, introducing myself to the receptionist. “I have a three o’clock appointment.” I looked at my watch. “Which I’m a little late for.”

I smiled apologetically at her, hoping my scruffy blond hair, dark blue eyes and three-day growth would come off as rugged charm. I knew my looks could work in my favour with most women. Not my usual intended target, but hey, whatever worked.

She looked at me, my clothes, and the box in my hand, and she smiled. “Take a seat, Mr Kelly,” she offered kindly. “Logan will be with you shortly.”

Logan. My new accountant.

I hadn’t believed it when I’d phoned my old accountant to make my annual tax appointment and been told she’d been taken ill. I’d used the same…


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