Gabe’s only rule in life? Avoid married men at all costs. But when a sexy, married lawyer-cum-farmer, with dreamy eyes and in open relationship, makes himself indispensable, Gabe’s no-married-men pledge is hard to keep.
Gabe Hartman is an award-winning, workaholic soap opera writer who prefers friends with benefits that don’t interfere with his deadlines. After his mother dies unexpectedly, he returns to his small hometown to settle her affairs, then get back to work ASAP. He schedules the memorial, arranges the burial, but makes no plans to fall for anyone, especially not a married man.
Owen Greene is open-hearted, good looking, and blessed with a charmed life. He’s passionate about all things farm-to-table and isn’t afraid to pursue what he wants—experience optional. When Gabe stumbles into his chaotic farmers market booth, the sparks are instant.
Gabe wants to do right by his mother and get back to work. Owen wants Gabe. Their chemistry? Unavoidable. Between messy estate finances and a fake-date crash course in emotional vulnerability, they just might stumble into something real. If only Gabe could come clean about a secret of his own…
Fall in love with this warm, witty MM rom-com about unexpected connections, complicated timing, and kissing the guy who makes your heart trip.
Excerpt
Rom-Com for Dummies
Tom Diggs © 2025
All Rights Reserved
Gabe Hartman was a first-class liar. It made sense he would become head writer on a soap opera.
If Tomorrow Never Comes had been around for decades. It was created in the late fifties by the legendary Aurora Helms, one of the doyennes of soaps. She had the vision to recognize bored, postwar, suburban housewives who needed the fantasy of romance and drama to keep them going until their husbands returned home in the evening after work. Aurora had created a kingdom of daytime dramas for the networks. If Tomorrow Never Comes was not only the feather in the cap of her reign, but also her last remaining soap still on the air. The fans couldn’t imagine a world without their hour of escape to Harmony Hills. The poor municipality had survived fires, plagues, serial killers, cult suicides, and Russian invasions. As of late, the show’s plots had become more tame and socially conscious, thanks mostly to Gabe Hartman’s sensibilities as head writer. He had grounded the show in salt-of-the-earth storylines that appealed to its down-to-earth audience, mostly from rural areas and red states.
Aurora Helms was in her nineties now and popped into the Manhattan offices of If Tomorrow Never Comes once a year from her estate in Connecticut. The staff performed a dog-and-pony show for the reigning “Queen of Soapland.” She spent a quick morning dispensing worthless advice and questionable anecdotes about the “Golden Age of Harmony Hills.” She bragged about getting now-famous actors from the New York City theater community to act in the early years of If Tomorrow Never Comes. Actors who would go on to become the greatest actors of their generation were allegedly cast as extras and “day players.” No corroborating record of any of this existed, but Gabe had trained his staff to listen politely, chuckle adoringly at her jokes, eat cheese, and drink sherry with her. She loved sherry. She waxed about her dreams of owning a cable network that played nothing but reruns of her soaps; no one had the heart to tell her cable networks devoted to soaps rarely succeeded. At some point, Aurora would have closed-door meetings with both the suits and the executive producers. Eventually, she would get tired and be limo-ed back to Connecticut while the staff returned to business as if she had never been there. Did she even watch If Tomorrow Never Comes anymore? Did it matter? As long as the show stayed on the air, her coffers kept filling.
The staff always complained about Aurora’s visits, but Gabe would have none of it. He was extremely vocal about his gratitude. Because of Aurora, he had been gainfully employed and living comfortably as a writer in New York City for over a decade. What other writers could say that? This year, he won his first Daytime Emmy due to Aurora’s creation, and he amplified his gratitude in his Emmy acceptance speech.
Gabe was good at his job and had always been well respected at If Tomorrow Never Comes. He had the unique talent of all great head writers: he made the writing staff feel like they were equally involved in a collaborative process. Gabe, however, always had the final say. He also had the best ideas. Everyone was always impressed with what he came up with.
But Gabe had a dirty little secret. None of his ideas were original. He was a world-class liar and a world-class thief. Morality was of no use to Gabe when it came to getting the job done.
Gabe’s secret weapon was his hometown, Concord Valley, a small borough Upstate. The people there were nice enough, but nothing else was of interest for Gabe, especially having grown up there as a young gay boy on the verge of his sexual emergence. That said, Concord Valley was where Gabe got all his best ideas for If Tomorrow Never Comes. Or more accurately, stole all his best ideas.
Every great idea he got for his soap came from someone’s real life story in Concord Valley. The love triangle between the beautician, the plumber, and the nun…Gertie, Phil, and Concetta in Concord Valley. The child misdiagnosed with autism who simply needed an ocular aid…the Waverly child in Concord Valley. The bad girl who returned to town and ran the cafe…Mildred in Concord Valley. Concord Valley as a town was the perfect population to inspire Harmony Hills-sized storylines.
Even though his dear mother still lived there, Gabe seldom went to visit. Concord Valley was the kind of place gay boys leave and never look back. That was the lie Gabe told himself. He went home for Christmas and birthdays, and he called his mother almost daily when she unwittingly fed him his latest storyline updates. Deserted by Dad decades ago, Gabe considered his mother one of his closest friends. He was planning to check in with her that night as he might have a couple of new storylines that needed developing.
His deception had one more layer. Gabe was such a professional liar, he never told anyone in Concord Valley he worked at If Tomorrow Never Comes. For all they knew, he worked in Manhattan at some aimless job in a nebulous megacorporation. Visits home would be easier if they didn’t know. He wrote for If Tomorrow Never Comes under the pseudonym, George Sample. Since soap writers are basically invisible, there was little chance of anyone ever learning the truth. The daytime writing awards were never shown on the televised part of the Daytime Emmys. There might be a still photo of Gabe floating around on the interwebs, but the image would be labeled George Sample and not Gabe Hartman. A “Gabe Hartman, soap writer” online search would yield fruitless results. Gabe was confident he had safely set up an impenetrable secret life. As long as the networks were broadcasting soaps, Gabe was guaranteed a healthy career as a writer for soap operas.
One of Gabe’s jobs as head writer was to keep track of the weekly ratings. Erin, the show’s fabulous writer’s assistant and Gabe’s work spouse, was the first to retrieve the ratings and make copies for all of the upper-level management production team.
Gabe headed to Erin’s cubicle next to the copy machine in the supply room. Erin had been an intern from NYU during her undergrad years. Not only did the staff adore her, but Erin was also a super fan of the show. She was offered a full-time gig the moment her internship was over. Gabe couldn’t imagine the place without her.
The supply room was abuzz with the whirr of script pages being printed and the organized chaos of ZipExpress overnight delivery envelopes getting prepped for drop off. The staff writers mainly worked from home. They didn’t need to come into the Manhattan office every day. As the sole writer’s assistant, one of Erin’s jobs was to put the finishing touches on several overnight packages for the out-of-town writing staff.
Erin had also already organized and highlighted the ratings in a neat pile. Gabe admired her competence and efficiency, a rare find in anyone, especially someone so young.
“How do we look, Erin?” he asked.
“Not great,” said Erin. “Down another two hundredths of a point. You want a look?”
“I trust you. Not too precipitous.”
“Steady but sure. The fans want more shirtless dudes, Gabe.”
“Take a number.”
“You should read the fan mail.” Erin held up a pile of letters.
“Above my pay grade. Wait! These ratings were from the week the plot revolved around the men’s swimwear competition. Guess our dudes need to work out more.”
“You can’t expect good actors to be gym rats. I still say the cannibalism storyline could be a Sweeps Week winner.”
“You’re nuts. Short of hardcore porn, I’m not sure what would spike the ratings.”
“What about a simple romance?”
“Right…”
“Or better yet, hide a romantic comedy in what might have been a tawdry storyline. Who doesn’t love romance? Add a few jokes. The combo is incredibly sexy. Some daytime drama sleight of hand.”
He considered Erin’s rom-com idea charming, but quaint.
“Not sure how that would work…on the air or in life,” said Gabe. “We’ll see what the producers have to say. Speaking of, how are the Douglasses today?”
“Higher than the ratings.”
“Not saying much. Wish me luck. Thanks for these.” Gabe grabbed the pile of ratings. “You make the shitty parts of my job look easy.”
“I bet you say that to all the exploited underlings. Want me to join you with the Douglasses?” asked Erin.
“I’m wearing my big-boy pants. I can handle a couple of drunken producers.”
“I always admire your detachment.”
“That’s what they pay me for.”
Gabe glanced at the actual ratings numbers and tried not to blanch. They’d recently been sliding so low, this week’s two-hundredth percentile decline was inconsequential compared to the previous hemorrhaging. The consistent slide was not good for If Tomorrow Never Comes, let alone soaps in general.
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Meet the Author
Tom Diggs is the author of fiction, plays, and musicals. His fiction has been published in The James White Review. His play, FAIR AND DECENT, was developed by the Kennedy Center and nominated for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 2008. When he’s not working on his own writing, he enjoys teaching middle schoolers to write. Outside of the world of letters, he bakes, bikes, and keeps up with the latest technology. A lifelong learner, he attended Brown University, the University of Washington, and NYU/Tisch. Once upon a time, he interned on All My Children. He currently spends his time between San Francisco and Santa Fe and is a member of the Dramatists Guild.
Author Links
Website: http://www.tomdiggs.com/
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