🔥 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 ➜ And Then He Pressed Play: Track One an MM Contemporary Romance by Robert J. Halliwell Book Tour & Author Interview
RECENT RELEASE
Author: Robert J. Halliwell
Publisher: Triple Scale Publishing
Cover Artist: Harrold-Vincent Villanueva
Release Date: February 28, 2026
Tense/POV: Past tense, third person limited, dual POV
Genres: YA coming of age, MM Contemporary
Tropes: Fish out of water, Shy-Sunshine, Idiots in love, exchange student
Themes: Found family, bisexual awakening, first love
Heat Rating: 1-1.5 flames
Length: 338 pages, 80 000 words
It is part 1 of a duology. It has a HFN ending with some heartbreak mixed in since the exchange program ends.
Buy Links
Amazon | Website | Kobo | B&N | Indigo
Blurb
It's 2006 and Sixteen-year-old A.J. Walker is openly gay, painfully Canadian, and very much out of his depth. He’s wanted to do his school’s exchange program for years, but now that he’s landed at an all-boys school in Glenbridge Ireland—an ocean away from Moose Jaw Saskatchewan—he’s starting to question his decisions. Armed with nothing more than his trusty Discman and an accent that makes him stand out, A.J. has one goal: get through the Irish school year.
Born and raised in Glenbridge, Bren O’Shea has never known how to sit still or keep quiet. He’s also never known a day without laughter. Even when things get bad, Bren always knows how to get a smile out of someone, whether they asked him or not. His mam always says he needs to think before he acts, but as long as his heart’s in the right place, what’s the harm in a bit of impulse?
Glenbridge is the sort of town where everyone knows everyone—and unfortunately for A.J. once someone thinks they know you, it’s hard to change their mind.
After a rocky start that ends in disaster, Bren and A.J. need to decide if it’s worth reaching out to someone who’s so different from you—especially when one of you has to leave in June.
Excerpt
Save me!
The chorus to “Bring Me to Life” rang in A.J.’s ears as he leaned against the damp, moss-covered wall at the far end of Glenbridge Secondary School. Even though the volume on his whirring Discman was cranked to the highest setting, it wasn’t enough to drown out the absolute bedlam that roiled around him. He’d thought his eleven years of attending school had shown him all the shades of feral guys came in, but standing to face the churning sea of testosterone before him, those years of experience all but melted away.
He couldn’t say for sure whether it was the fact Glenbridge had no girls to act as a buffer, or if his new classmates just didn’t come with volume knobs. Whatever the reason, he was doubting the wisdom of signing up for the exchange program with each passing second.
The main attraction stood at the end of the yard farthest from his wall. At least twenty guys, ranging throughout all the grades by the looks of them, were playing some sort of game A.J. had never seen before. Everyone carried strips of wood that looked like a cross between stubby hockey sticks and baseball bats. As far as he could tell, the goal was to balance, hit, or otherwise carry the baseball-sized ball from one end of the field to the other and get it past the goalie, all while being as loud as possible.
Separate from this unknown sport, groups of students stood in clusters throughout the yard. This wasn’t much different from what he was used to at first glance, but on closer inspection, each group was in a state of constant motion. Guys were speaking with their hands, elbowing their friends or slapping each other on the back with every other word. They seemed to communicate exclusively by shouting, with accents that A.J. had trouble understanding—even without the music thudding in his skull.
There didn’t seem to be another quiet person for him to approach. Not one other guy off on his own, reading a book, listening to music, or acting like they hadn’t downed about five cans of Monster.
A.J. rolled his shoulders, and the fabric of his uniform bit into his neck. He’d thought by making sure his clothes were in pristine condition before setting out that morning, he was applying a layer of camouflage. A uniform made things easier—or at least it should have.
To his dismay, it looked like everyone else had shredded the handout without looking at it. Shirts were rumpled, sleeves were rolled up, and despite the leaflet’s mention of neutral footwear, he spotted more than a few pairs of brightly coloured Nikes milling about.
In the brief lull between songs, his eyes fell on one of the worst offenders of this near-universal breach of dress code. Flame-bright hair stuck out at every angle across his head, like he’d rolled out of bed and walked straight out the door. His blue and silver striped tie was so loose the knot thudded against his sternum whenever he was in motion—which seemed to be his default setting.
He laughed as he peeled back the top of a yogurt lid and flung it with a casual flick towards one of his friends. It landed with a good stick on the boy’s breast pocket—right over the school crest.
A.J. was wondering how hard the first boy was going to get punched when the second one’s lip twitched. He grabbed hold of the lid and, with surprising dexterity considering the size of him, flung it back at the first boy. It landed between his eyes with a splat that A.J. thought he heard above his music. The rest of the group exploded with laughter as the redhead peeled the lid off, still wearing his crooked smile.
Without warning, the yogurt-covered boy turned from his group to toss the lid towards a nearby trash can. A.J.’s eyes darted away and came to rest on a patch of clover. Had the other boy seen him staring? Classes hadn’t even started yet, and he was already acting like a friendless loser.
He was a friendless loser.
His fingers found the dial of his Discman again, yearning to crank the volume up past its limits.
He’d all but decided to cut his losses and head inside early when he heard it. The sound of a muffled voice, far too close to be there by accident.
Shit.
A.J. let his eyes linger on the clover before dragging his gaze upward. Sure enough, there stood the boy from before.
A stray streak of pinkish yogurt clung to his fire-spun eyebrows where the lid had landed. Tiny beads of moisture glistened on his pale skin, shining among the freckles spread across the bridge of his sharp nose. It was impossible to tell whether it was sweat or not. If A.J. had learned one thing about Ireland in the two weeks he’d been there, it was that the humidity never dropped below chicken noodle soup.
A.J. fumbled with the dial while the other boy’s head tilted to the side, like he was trying to figure out the plot of a show he’d dropped into mid-season. With his music humming instead of roaring, A.J. shifted his gaze to meet the boy’s hazel eyes.
Tell us a little about yourself and your writing goals.
Well, I’m a 35-year-old gay guy from a little town called Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. After I graduated high school, I went down to Oklahoma to meet my online boyfriend in person and see how we got along in person. Sixteen years later and we’ve been married a little over a decade, so I suppose it was the right call.
I’ve always loved reading for as long as I can remember, even if it has come and gone a bit at times. I find as an adult it’s often easier for my brain to settle when my reading comes in the form of audiobooks. But hey, it’s all reading to me.
My ultimate goal with writing is to write the kinds of stories that make people feel something. Love seems to be a reoccurring theme with the kinds of stories I want to tell, whether it be platonic or romantic. The kind of love that changes us, one way or another, for the rest of our lives.
Congratulations on your new release. Please tell us a little bit about it. What’s your favorite aspect or part of the story? Do you have a favorite character? Who/Why?
And Then He Pressed Play is a cozy, coming of age romance between a deeply anxious Canadian and a Golden retriever in the form of an Irish lad. In typical shy x sunshine fashion, the two boys rub each other the wrong way at first meeting, but come to understand the other over time. Is it weird that I’m not great at explaining books that I’ve literally written every single word of?
I really love that I set it in Ireland in the end, even if I regretted it about 20 times throughout the process. I have (distant) family ties there, and it has been lovely to learn more about where ¼ of my ancestors came from. I’ve even made some friends from there!
I love both my sons equally, but I have a special place in my heart for Bren. He’s so different from me and most of the people who surround me in life that he’s just a joy to write and get to know more deeply. I also was surprised by how fond I grew of Rory over the writing process. He really snuck up on me.
Are you a planner or a pantser? How much do you know about your story before you start writing? How often does your plan change? Why does this work best for you?
I’m very much a pantser, much to the horror of my more plot-heavy mutuals. I tend to have the basic beginning, middle and end figured out. The focus tends to be on the feelings I want the reader to go through as they read.
I do a lot of thinking about the characters and the world, but seldom write down more than little jot notes. I find when I do try to fully plot, I think up a new character, or get to know an existing one better and the story changes from what I had planned.
Do deadlines motivate you or block you? How do you deal with them?
As long as the deadline is something I’ve set for myself and has some wiggle room, they’re handy. That said, I’ve learned that it’s probably best for me to add two weeks onto how much time I think I need for books to account for life. I mean, why bother stressing myself if I can add on a bit more of a runway at no loss to anyone?
Do you schedule a certain amount of time for writing each day/week, or do you just work it in when you can? Would you like to change this, or does your current method work well for you?
I basically try to write a little bit every day with more time dedicated to it on the weekend. That said, I don’t get upset at myself (or try not to) if I don’t get something done every day. Life is going to happen.
I’d like to be able to do this full time and quit my day job. If that happened, I expect I would write, or at least do something related to the book, every day.
What was the most difficult part of writing this book? Why?
Setting it in Ireland. Full-stop. But as I said, it’s also been one of the most enjoyable parts of it. As someone who hasn’t been to Ireland, I had to do a lot of research, and accept the fact that I will never be able to write it like someone from there.
I almost actually abandoned this project several times out of fear of getting it wrong or being disrespectful. Some of the lovely Irish folks I’ve come to know through this project talked me out of doing so though and I’m so grateful to them.
How do you develop a story idea? Do you always use the same method? Specifically, which do you develop first in your story building, the characters or the plot?
So in theory, I take all the ideas that I have swirling around my head and draft the first chapter of them. In practice, I write a full chapter of the one that was clearest in my head and go “OK this is the one I want to do.” At one point, I thought ATHPP was going to come after a four part more modern-fantasy story, but Bren and AJ felt so alive I just kept going.
On that note, keep an eye out for the Firelight series. . . someday tm.
What are your favorite genres when it comes to your own pleasure reading? Do you prefer to read ebooks or print?
I really like horror, fantasy and love stories. Not to be picky, but love rather than romance. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good dramatic Harlequin-esque yarn, but my favoruites are the kinds that settle down into your bones and live there.
As far as fantasy goes, I enjoy high magic, but in a more modern, less Arthurian way.
All formats have their place, but right now, it goes Audiobook→Paperback→ Ereader, because I only have my phone for the latter.
Does writing energize or exhaust you?
Yes.
If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
Oh my goodness, you pretentious twat, editing isn’t “an affront to creative expression”. There are some gems in your ideas, but a lot of crap surrounding them when you write them down.
What is the best money you ever spent as an author?
Audiobooks with a seasoned narrator! Not only does it just make my heart so full to hear someone narrate a thing that I wrote, my audiobook for my debut FAR outsold the other formats.
What is your favorite underappreciated novel?
Midnighters by Scott Westerfield. I read it at my husband’s recommendation back in college and it’s still in my head almost two decades later. It’s a big inspiration for Firelight.
What do you find to be the most difficult thing about writing characters from the opposite sex?
Not that I claim to be a master of it, but in some ways, I find writing female characters a bit easier than guys. I was definitely that kid who had a LOT of very close female friends growing up so I have a pretty deep pool of inspiration and relationships to pull from there.
What were your goals for this book? Did you achieve them?
Make someone both cry and giggle and kick their feet under the covers at different points in the book. According to reviews, I have done that multiple times. <3
About the Author
Robert J. Halliwell was born in the magical land of Canada during the age of butterfly clips and jelly sandals. He spent his formative years watching spooky movies and being jealous of Belle’s library from Beauty and the Beast. Many people don’t know Robert is married to an American Cyborg or that he’s secretly in possession of the two cutest cats in the world. He can often be found playing Dungeons and Dragons, knitting, or struggling to keep his garden alive.
Author Links
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