Excerpt from When the Harvest Comes by Denne Michele Norris, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"You were tossing and turning in your sleep." Everett looks down at Davis. He knows not to ask too explicitly. Davis has a lot of pride. He lets Everett in when he's ready, and not a moment sooner.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Davis runs his fingertips along Everett's arm, his breath silent. Everett kisses him again, then shakes his head.

"I'm used to it." He pauses, listening as waves lap the shore. "But you kept saying something I've never heard you say. 'Sunny Boy. Sunny Boy.' "

Davis brings Everett's hand to his mouth. "He called me that." He kisses the pads of Everett's fingers.

"Who?" Everett holds Davis tighter.

"He used to say I slipped out easy like I was covered in Crisco on the sunniest day of the year."

"Your father," Everett says.

"The Reverend." Davis rolls his eyes. "It was a lie, you know."

Everett feels a chill move between them.

Davis gazes through the open window, the curtain blowing in the paltry autumn breeze. "I hated him calling me that. My mom almost died because of me."

"It wasn't because of you," Everett says.

Davis shrugs, then turns over, facing Everett. "I should call you Sunny Boy." He sits up, planting both hands on Everett's cheeks. "You're like a planet. My gravitational pull. I couldn't get away if I tried." He lays down again, resettling into Everett's arms.

"Do you wish he was coming to the wedding?" Everett holds Davis tighter, their bodies fully flush against each other.

What Davis wishes for is the ability to make himself even smaller, daintier. "If I'd wanted him to come to the wedding, I would've invited him."

Everett brushes his nose along Davis's neck, his voice a whisper. "It seems like you were dreaming about him, Davis."

"Well, I don't remember it. You're the one who brought it up."

Davis looks out through the window upon the Montauk beach as earthbound snowflakes, glittering pink and white, slowly make their way. They won't last; most won't even reach the ground, merely dancing in the sparkling moonlit sky. Davis wraps Everett's hand in both of his, holding it tight to his body. He tries to match his breathing to the rise and fall of Everett's chest.

Excerpted from When the Harvest Comes by William Norris. Copyright © 2025 by William Norris. Excerpted by permission of Random House. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.