Title: Where Nomads Dare to Dream

Author: Ildar Daminov

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/23/2026

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 346

Genre: Contemporary, new adult, high school, college, unrequited love, betrayal, political unrest, Central Asia, Austria, tearjerker

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Description

Eighteen-year-old Timur Tuqay dreams of escape. A subdued life in a small Central Asian town feels suffocating—especially when you’re gay and secretly in love with your best friend. When a university scholarship takes Tim to Vienna, everything changes. New city. New friends. New chances. But as secrets unravel and heartbreak hits home, Tim learns that freedom isn’t easy, and love isn’t always safe.

From a tender friendship to betrayal, from political chaos to quiet hope, Where Nomads Dare to Dream is a moving, fearless coming-of-age story about grief, resilience, and the courage it takes to live your truth.

Excerpt

Where Nomads Dare to Dream
Ildar Daminov © 2026
All Rights Reserved

A night, a street, a lamp, a drugstore,
A meaningless and gloomy light.
A quarter century outpours—
It’s all the same. No chance of flight.

You’ll die and rise anew, forgotten.
All would repeat as ever might:
The street, the icy rippled water,
The store, the lamp, the lonely night.

—Alexandr Blok

For weeks, the late spring in Yasilkent was flat and brought no news, only allergies and occasional frustrations. One dramatic change, however, began with something trivial. That afternoon, the school secretary gave me a white envelope adorned with a Gothic-style seal in the top right corner. A crowned woman holding a book in her hands stared at me from the seal with a dispassionate gaze. The envelope’s delicate paper concealed a message I had both dreaded and eagerly anticipated.

I resisted the urge to tear the envelope open that instant, though it would have been the most rational thing to do. Instead, I inhaled the library air tinged with a hint of chalk and polished wood, hoping that my brain would calm down. It didn’t help. I could no longer study or concentrate on anything else because of the damn envelope. My eyes darted around the room, looking to find someone to help me out of the situation. Most of the tables were empty, save for scattered notebooks here and there. The students rarely visited the library in the last days of the spring semester. The librarian, Mrs. Kalen, was also out for a lunch break, so I had the whole place to myself.

“Well, well, look who’s here!”

I couldn’t immediately recognize that drawling, malicious voice.

When I turned, I saw Ali, another senior from a parallel class. I didn’t know him too well. An overweight thug of average height with greasy hair, Ali didn’t look like anything special. When I’d bumped into him in a school corridor for the first time, I’d thought of him as a random passerby, like an NPC in a computer game strolling around. His looks were perfectly deceptive, but there was something deeply maniacal about his gaze that gave him away. Ali was one of the most notorious bullies in our school. He was known for being sporadically violent: throwing tantrums during classes, insulting everyone, including teachers, and getting into regular fights. I was fortunate enough to avoid him for most of my high school years, but many students weren’t as lucky.

“What do you want, Ali?” I asked him, doing my best to project confidence despite feeling unsettled. I had no idea what to expect from him.

Ali didn’t say anything at first, but merely looked at my neatly arranged study space, whistling quietly. I closed my notebooks as if trying to protect my work from him. A smirk spread on his face, confirming my suspicions.

“Working on that final project for the history exam, huh?” he drawled.

“Maybe. Why do you care?”

“I need to submit something too, you know.” Ali squinted. “Let’s make it quick. Give me your history notes before I beat the crap out of you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Give me your notes.”

“Like hell I will!”

“Oh, we’re being cocky, huh?” Ali’s fake-calm voice changed in an instant, becoming livid. He pulled a wrench from his pocket. “Are you sure you don’t want to think it over?”

“What the—! Get away from me, you freak!” I yelled and took several steps back even though I didn’t fully believe he would do anything. Attacking someone with a wrench was too much, even for Ali.

“I told you to make it quick,” Ali growled and took several steps toward me.

“And I told you to get away. Or I’ll call for help!”

Ali guffawed. “Right, good luck with that! You know they won’t do anything to me, you whiny fag.”

I feared he was right. Ali was the nephew of the vice-principal, which gave him an unofficial special status in our school. No matter what he did, they never expelled him or even properly punished him. I eyed the wrench in his hand with caution. Was he capable of doing something truly awful though? I didn’t want to find out. Giving him my history notes was an insignificant price to pay.

“Fine, you can take my no—” I began. Alas, Ali got distracted in the meantime and was looking at my table more carefully.

“Oh, and what’s this here? Your secret love letters?” he asked and pointed at the envelope. My heart froze for a second.

“None of your business! Take my notes and get the hell out of here!” I shouted and threw my notebook in his direction. “Don’t touch it!”

My panic must have encouraged him to focus on the envelope. Ali didn’t even bother to catch my notes. The notebook flew past him and fell on the floor with a thump.

“Why so jumpy? What are you hiding there?” Ali launched himself forward and grabbed the envelope from the table. There was no stopping him. “This must be something good.”

“Give it back right now!” I attempted to push him away and snatch the envelope back, but Ali was too quick and dodged me.

“Let’s see. Let’s see!” he sniggered, taking several steps back, and tore the envelope open.

“No, don’t touch it. This is personal!” I cried. That was when the strong sound of footsteps from behind one of the bookshelves gave me a sense of hope. Could it be a teacher? Or the librarian?

“What the hell is going on here?” someone said in an assertive baritone.

And then the situation escalated so fast I couldn’t follow. To be fair, neither could Ali. He barely managed to turn around before a fist hit his face with a loud crunching sound, making him collapse on the floor and drop both the wrench and the envelope. A massive sand-colored work boot kicked the wrench away, then stepped on Ali’s palm. Ali cried in pain and cursed loudly.

“Aman, don’t!” I exclaimed.

Aman’s cold, sapphire-like eyes gave me that defiant look I knew all too well. My savior didn’t intend to listen to me. Instead, he stepped on Ali’s hand even harder, making him howl and convulse on the floor.

“Shut up and stop squirming, you piece of shit!” Aman thundered, ignoring me, and kicked Ali twice. “What do you think you were doing?”

“Aman, please, stop!” I pleaded once more. In all honesty, I had little sympathy for Ali but feared Aman could get into trouble if someone came in.

Although Aman’s eyebrows were hidden by his long bangs, I could see how he frowned. He didn’t respond. This meant he must have been frustrated with me.

“Let him go! You don’t want to get into trouble!”

After several seconds of tense silence, Aman spat at Ali and kicked his leg again but released him.

“Okay. Get the hell out of here.”

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Meet the Author

Ildar Daminov is a Tatar Kazakhstani social scientist and a modern-day nomad who resides in and travels across Europe. In his free time, he reads a lot and writes short stories and novels in English about the intersections of queerness and migration. If you like this story, reach out to him on social media.

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