Title: Golden Boy

Author: Freddie Braun

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 05/19/2026

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 207

Genre: Contemporary, Lit/fiction, non-explicit, coming of age, ensemble cast, found family, college students, Scotland, London, Paris, unrequited love, gay, lesbian, heterosexual

Add to Goodreads

Description

At an ancient Scottish university where neo-Gothic spires claw at grey skies and fog settles thick around granite walls, eighteen-year-old Felix arrives hoping to outrun the shadows of his past. He quickly falls under the spell of five strangers who will change the course of his life forever: fierce Jess, who becomes his anchor; quiet Julian, with his cutting truths; the Sarah duo, one magnetic, one thoughtful; and Colin—golden-haired, impossible, the kind of boy who makes Felix forget his own name.

For a brief, shimmering moment, it feels like home: Late nights and shared secrets, cheap wine and the dangerous comfort of being chosen. One reckless night that changes everything. A budding connection with Filip, a teaching assistant who notices what others miss. But as Felix learns about the darkest corners of the human mind under renowned Professor Lorna Baird, the world outside grows darker too—the Aberdeen Ripper, a serial killer who terrorised the city years ago, has returned.

When Jess becomes his next victim, her death sends fractures splintering through everything Felix thought he understood. The friends he trusted. The boy he wanted. The person he was trying to become. In the wreckage, Felix begins to realise the danger was never only out there in the dark.

Her final gift: a lighter and three words, “Keep shining bright.” But in the clock tower that becomes his sanctuary, Felix will discover that not every murder is what it seems. And sometimes the real monsters are the ones we let closest.

Excerpt

Golden Boy
Freddie Braun © 2026
All Rights Reserved

If I’d known that overcast Tuesday would set off a chain of events that would turn me into a killer—and I’d end up scrubbing someone else’s blood off my hands—I’d have stayed in the safety of the taxi. Instead, I stepped onto the rain-slicked pavement of Union Street, Aberdeen’s late September chill cutting straight to the bone. Looking back, I still can’t believe how ordinary it all seemed. Just another Tuesday. As I fumbled with a few crumpled bills, the driver’s Scottish brogue rolled over me, thick enough to pass for another language.

“Cheers, lad,” he said. His face was all deep lines and North Sea weather, shaped by too many nights with a bottle for company. When he added, “Mind yerself out there,” something in his tone made me pause. Was he warning me?

I told myself it was just nerves—maybe the cold, or the strangeness of it all—but the unease felt older than that, like something I’d carried for years, tucked between ribs. And if I was honest, I could already feel it: my chest tightening, each breath growing thicker, harder to catch. I nodded, my mouth set in something halfway to gratitude, but the stench gnawed at the edges of my thoughts—rotting fish, almost alive in its reek, as if it moved with its own consciousness, hell-bent on violating the natural order of things.

The driver caught my grimace and offered a tobacco-smudged grin. “Don’t worry, ye’ll get used to the smell,” he said, then pulled away, his cab swallowed by the grey.

My duffel bag thudded against my hip as I made my way toward campus, each step a little heavier with doubt. Above, seagulls wheeled and screamed, their cries sharp enough to peel skin—restless, hungry for something they hadn’t found yet. Ancient-looking cobblestones resisted each step. Goosebumps rose across my bare legs as fine mist settled into my clothes like a second skin. There I was, standing woefully misplaced in basketball shorts, a white T-shirt, a beige fleece jacket, and baseball cap, foolishly dressed for New York summer in Scottish autumn. A dead rat sprawled near the curb, its bloated body hosting a wake of flies, while granite buildings pressed through the fog like prehistoric giants. Without the gulls, the silence would’ve smothered me. Loaded, still, and waiting to cut if I breathed wrong.

So caught up in the overload of it all, I didn’t even see the university building until I was about to walk straight into it. I flinched back, head snapping up, a sharp gasp in my throat. Then I saw it. Neo-Gothic spires clawed at the clouds—pure Lovecraft—forcing my head back as I took in its magnitude. I’d only seen buildings like this on a screen, never standing in front of me, real and impossible.

“Holy shit,” I muttered under my breath.

The website’s glossy images hadn’t prepared me. In person, the building was massive, its stone walls cold and rough, battered by years of rain. Carvings lined the entrance, weathered but still sharp in places. I could hear something from inside—a hum, maybe footsteps. Leaded glass windows gave off a dull reflection, hiding whatever was behind them. I kept looking, higher still. Towers rose into low clouds, and leering gargoyles growled at the sky, while water stains traced dark tears down the weather-beaten façade.

A hand-lettered sign, bright and jarring, jolted me from my stupor: “Welcome, Freshers!” Its plastic cheerfulness seemed almost sacrilegious against this noble backdrop, a neon smear across a canvas of the past.

“What the hell is a Fresher?” I mumbled, tugging my useless jacket closer.

“Lost, are we?” A cheerful voice cut through my thoughts. I blinked through the soft grey haze to find its source. She stood in an orange windbreaker, her ponytail flicking with every movement. As she approached, her face broke into a warm smile that made the grey afternoon lift, if only slightly.

“New to campus, eh?” she asked. She had the confidence of someone who specialised in rescuing lost souls. I nodded.

“Let me enlighten you,” she chuckled, her jacket blazing against the granite. “I’m Ellie, a Freshers’ Helper. Think of me as your official guide through the maze of Aberdeen uni life.” She flung an arm wide, sending her flyers spinning in the breeze as she gestured to the expansive campus. “You, my friend, are a Fresher. That’s what we call the new blood around here. And trust me—you’re in for a wild ride.”

Then, with a grand sweep of her hand, as if unveiling a stage, she turned and led me into the waiting mouth of the university.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Freddie Braun grew up everywhere and nowhere—a third-culture kid who learned early that home is less about place and more about the people who see you clearly. After studying psychology at the University of Aberdeen (yes, the same granite halls where Felix’s story unfolds), he now lives in London, writing about outsiders, first loves, and the families we build for ourselves. His work has appeared in Vogue, The Wall Street Journal, and McSweeney’s. This is his first novel.

Website | Instagram