RECENT RELEASE BOOK BLAST 
Book Title: Boomerang Street
Author and Cover Artist: Garrick Jones
Publisher: GRJ Press
Release Date: September 15, 2026
Genre: LGBT Historical/Crime Thriller
Themes: Political Thriller; Action Thriller; Rags to Riches
Heat Rating: 5 flames
Length: 135 000 words/389 pages (paperback version)
It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger.
“ … it started off by finding a few floaters in the harbour, but that caused a huge amount of attention in the press. It’s only a theory that they’re linked, but we’ve found six men, almost skeletons, in the past seven months dumped in all sorts of places, all with the same ligature marks and signs of abuse on their backs.”
1932, Sydney, Australia, in the height of the Great Depression, Joe Ing, one man among the two-thirds of Australian men out of work, will do anything to put food on the table for his family.
A casual job as a waiter at a private party leads to more opportunities, some of which push his limits and lead him into dangerous waters. The disappearance of his best friend, selling his body in the darkened streets of the city, precipitates a train of events that cause a change in his circumstance; both for better and for worse.
In Depression-era Sydney, jobless Joe Ing will do anything to feed his family. A waiter’s shift at a private party opens doors to risky work, dangerous secrets and a city’s underworld. Then, when his best friend vanishes, Joe is pulled into events that may save him—or destroy him.
“Over here,” the man said, moving to the end cubicle and standing inside it, holding the door open.
“Bit risky,” Joe said, even though he’d already walked across the tiled floor. His penis led him, not his head.
The man chuckled, then moved to one side to allow Joe to go into the cubicle with him. He closed the door.
“Stand on the seat if anyone comes in,” Joe whispered.
“I know what to do,” came the reply, accompanied by a look of amusement and a very cheeky smile. “What do you like?”
Joe shrugged noncommittally, smiling back.
He enjoyed it far more than usual, the man’s head resting on Joe’s shoulder and breathing into the crook of his neck while they worked each other’s cocks. It felt good to have an arm around his back, the smell of the man’s brilliantine in his nose … besides, he was one good-looking coot and he certainly knew what to do, squatting down at the last minute to encourage Joe to spurt into his opened mouth. Joe couldn’t help himself: he arched his back as he was about to spoof and ran his hand behind the man’s neck, giving him the go-ahead to swallow his spunk. He throbbed out four spurts into the man’s mouth, the man looking up into his eyes as he did so.
“Fuck, that was lovely,” the man whispered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Not half,” Joe said with a grin. “Your turn now?”
Joe pulled him to his feet and undid his top trouser button. The man’s strides fell down to his shoes. It wasn’t something Joe did often, but he liked this bloke for some unknown reason and wanted to see whether he had golden hair on his legs; he was a sucker for red-blonds. Joe pulled the man’s underwear down, crouching down as he did so, the man’s cock inches from Joe’s face. It was truly impressive, standing out stiffly from his body, the foreskin stretched back along the shaft, his penis long and sleek and fat. The pale thicket of blond pubic hair was a surprise—Joe had imagined something darker or redder, but he was very aroused by what he saw, even though he’d just let go into the man’s mouth. He felt the familiar temptation, that as-yet unfulfilled desire to run his lips over the head of the man’s cock and then take it in his mouth, wondering yet again for the umpteenth time what it might feel and taste like.
As he squatted, his cock was still hard, throbbing, bouncing on the top of the waistband of his underpants. He spat in his hand, then started off slow, twisting his hand around the man’s shaft, gradually increasing speed. It wasn’t long before Joe noticed the grip and release in the man’s thighs; things were getting close.
Before he could get to his feet, the man groaned softly and spurted onto the wall over Joe’s shoulder, grasping the back of Joe’s neck, then panting softly until his orgasm subsided.
“Thank you,” he whispered, a moment or two later, looking down at Joe.
“No—thank you.”
Joe played with the man’s cock until it softened, something he rarely did, but he really liked the shape, size and feel of this bloke’s penis: it was a knockout. It felt so good in his hand that he was reluctant to let go of it. Even flaccid it was semi-turgid, full of blood and heavy in his hand. It was the manifested form of the fantasy cock that he thought about when he squirted onto his belly in bed at night. Damn, he thought: given half the chance, he could play with it for hours.
When he eventually stood, encouraged by the man’s hand on his shoulder, it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was still hard and he was oozing a bit.
“Want more?” the man asked, smiling and then running his hand around Joe’s erection.
Joe nodded, shrugged again nervously, then watched as the red-blond settled on the toilet seat and then sucked a second load out of him.
Back at the bar, Joe scored the encounter as up there with the best he could remember, and for a moment was tempted to change his mind and accept the offer the man had made to meet up again. He’d vacillated, but hadn’t acted on his second thoughts; it would have been a first had he done so. Instead, as they’d left the gents’, he’d just patted the man on the back and shaken his hand, leaving him to return to the bar with a traditional “Catchyalaydah,” a farewell that in Aussie slang meant something like “See you again perhaps, but don’t hold your breath”.
Maybe he’d regret it, but it was too late to do anything about it now. Joe’s attitude to the blokes he liked and what he did with them was odd. He didn’t understand it himself.
From the outback to the opera.
After a thirty-year career as a professional opera singer, performing as a soloist in opera houses and in concert halls all over the world, I took up a position as lecturer in music in Australia in 1999, at the Central Queensland Conservatorium of Music, which is now part of CQ University.
Brought up in Australia, between the bush and the beaches of the Eastern suburbs, I retired in 2015 and now live in the tropics, writing, gardening, and finally finding time to enjoy life and to re-establish a connection with who I am after a very busy career on the stage and as an academic.
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