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AUDIO RELEASE BLITZ: The Humbug Holiday by Lane Hayes #audiobook #holidayromance #bisexual @GoIndiMarketing

Title: The Humbug Holiday

Format: Audiobook

Author: Lane Hayes

Narrator: Michael Dean

Publisher: Lane Hayes

Release Date: December 12, 2022

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 03 Hours 50 Minutes

Genre: Romance, Holiday romance, Bisexual romance, Grumpy/Grumpy, Small Town

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Synopsis

Two grumpy bears and a holiday season neither will forget…

Joe

So this sexy silver fox rolls into my small New England town and buys a run-down old house in need of renovation. That’s where I come in. My job is to do some basic repairs, so he can write in peace. Yep, the hotshot is a bestselling author, but that’s not why I recognize Cameron Warren.

No worries, I won’t let a one-night stand make things awkward. I could use the work, but is he seriously asking me to help him buy a Christmas tree too?

No way.

Cameron

I’m a good-natured guy all year long, but I have to admit…I hate the holidays.

There. I said it.

This season, I’m hiding away on the opposite side of the country in a picturesque village. My family isn’t excited about my decision, and the only way to assure them I’m fine is to deck the darn halls. Or hire someone else to do it.

The handyman might not be the logical choice for an elf, but his grumpy act makes me smile. Which makes me think the holidays might not be so “bah-humbug” this year after all.

The Humbug Holiday is a bisexual, age-gap romance featuring two grumpy bears who find unexpected magic and learn to embrace everyone’s favorite time of year!

Excerpt

“No, thanks.”

Cam narrowed his gaze. “What do you mean ‘no, thanks’?”

I set the strand of fairy lights on a green plastic bin and scowled. “Do I really look like fuckin’ Santa Claus?”

“No, but—”

“My holiday cheer begins and ends at my mom’s bingo deal. That’s it. I don’t own twenty boxes filled with useless knickknacks. I don’t put up a tree or hang lights or…any of that shit for myself. Why would I do it for you?”

“Money. I’ll pay you handsomely to deck the damn halls and take a few photos. That’s in addition to the handyman stuff.” He named an even more outlandish sum than the one he’d proposed two days ago.

I whistled as I crossed my arms. “You do realize that’s insane, right?”

He shrugged. “A little. Look, I need a few Christmassy photos for my aunts.”

“Why?”

“Because…well…it’s a family thing,” he hedged, narrowing his eyes as he cast a wary glance over the array of boxes still littering the entry hall. “And as you can see, it’s complicated.”

I peeked at Tony’s roofing truck through the lacy curtains. “I’m a carpenter or a general handyman. I can’t, in good conscience, take money for something like putting up a tree. I mean…it would be one thing if you couldn’t physically do it yourself, but you seem perfectly capable of putting up a few decorations.”

“Physically yes, mentally…no.”

I stared at him for as long as I could manage without blinking, then let out a heavy sigh. “Is there an artificial tree somewhere in those boxes, or are you going to need a real one?”

“I have no idea. I haven’t looked and I don’t want to. I want to hire you to do all of that for me. Put it up and take it all down…within forty-eight hours. It’s Tuesday. If you get a tree today, it can be gone by Thursday, and then you can concentrate on the rest of the house stuff.”

“Your priorities are kinda whack.” I snorted. “Christmas is in three weeks. Don’t you FaceTime with your family?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“They’re gonna notice the lack of cheer on the big day.”

Cameron frowned. “Oh. That’s true.”

“Look, I should probably get out there and deal with Tony,” I said, stepping toward the door. “I’m not opposed to taking your money, but I’m no designer and I don’t like the holidays any more than you do. I’ll ask in town. Janie Calhoun owns the Christmas store on First Street and she does some staging for a couple of home boutiques in the area. If you want this done right, she’s a better bet than me.”

“No, thanks. I’ve had my fill of designers.” He waved impatiently and stalked over to the bins. “How about this? Let’s buy a tree, put some lights on it, and throw on a few ornaments. Then we’ll toss the whole thing in the trash before noon on the twenty-fifth and be done with it.”

“And what about all that stuff?” I inclined my head meaningfully at the holiday shit he had yet to unpack.

“Leave the box with ornaments, and put the rest in the basement. Out of sight, out of mind. Or better yet, throw it all away.”

“Wow. You are Scrooge.”

Cameron smirked unapologetically. “I told you so. My youngest cousin is having a baby any minute now, so with any luck, my aunts will forget about me for a while. Just knowing there’s a tree up will make them happy, and that’s what matters. So…what do you think?”

I fixed him with a long, hard stare.

“I think you’re up to something.”

He widened his eyes in surprise. “Such as?”

“I dunno. People who don’t like the holidays wouldn’t go through the hassle of hiring someone unqualified to do their dirty work, even if money were no object. It would be much easier to hole up in your office and hibernate for the rest of December. What do you really want?”

“Huh?”

“Is this about sex?”

“Sex,” he repeated with a huff. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to a repeat, but I’m not in the habit of paying for a good time.”

Christ, all he had to say was “repeat” and I popped a boner.

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Meet the Author

Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. Her debut novel was a 2013 Rainbow Award finalist and subsequent books have received Honorable Mentions, and were winners in the 2016, 2017, 2018-2019, 2020-2021 Rainbow Awards. She loves wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband in a newly empty nest.

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RELEASE BLITZ: Wrap Up My Life by Hayley Faiman #HolidayRomance #mcromance

Book: WRAP UP MY LIFE

Author: Hayley Faiman

Release Date: December 16, 2022

About the Book

It’s the holidays in East Texas. The A/C is cranked down. The Old Ladies have decorated the clubhouse with care, hoping big bearded men will adorn them with gifts.

She never wants to celebrate Christmas again. He wants nothing more than to meet her beneath the mistletoe.

Lies don’t just hurt the liar. They destroy every life that is somehow touched by that lie. Moxie knows that more than anyone, the man she thought she loved turned out to be a lie. 

Bans has always been the nerd. He’s the computer tech for the Nasty Bastards MC, but he sees something in Moxie. What he sees, he likes and wants for himself. He doesn’t just want to fix her. He wants to wrap her up and keep her. 

She’s a shell. Broken beyond repair. But when Bans looks at her, she feels something that she hasn’t in far too long. Hope.

He has watched her go through hell. She has put herself through self-sabotage for far too long. The holidays are a time for renewal, rebirth, and leaving the past… in the past. But can she move forward when her entire adult life has been nothing but a lie?

Purchase Links

Amazon ➜ https://mybook.to/WrapLife1

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About the Author

I was born and raised in California. My husband and I met when I was just 16. We were married a few years later, we lived in Oregon while he was in the US Coast Guard.

Texas is now where we call home, where our boots rest, and where we’re raising our two little boys and a chocolate lab named Optimus Prime.

Author Links

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RELEASE BLITZ: AGreene Family Christmas by Piper Rayne #smalltownromance #holidayromance #christmasromance @valentine_pr_ 

 

A Greene Family Christmas by Piper Rayne is now live!

 

Preparing a Christmas to remember is no small feat with a family the size of the Greenes.

Especially when the woman who has always been the planner down to every minute detail, falls ill only five days before the holiday. The family has no choice but to scramble to ensure that nothing is amiss. Cookies need to be decorated, gingerbread houses assembled and decorations to be hung. They’ll need all hands on deck, both young and old, to make this holiday happen. But of course, what would a Greene Christmas be if not chaotic with a dash of drama?

Download today on Amazon, Apple Books, Audible, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, Kobo!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3QsESAQ

Apple Books: https://apple.co/3tEDeSW

Nook: https://bit.ly/3QqBrec

Kobo: https://bit.ly/3MZmM6s

Google Play: https://bit.ly/39sYBzZ

 

Audiobook: https://books2read.com/agfc

Narrated by Joe Arden & Maxine Mitchell

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3HsMoYy

 

Meet Piper Rayne

Rayne

Piper Rayne is a USA Today Bestselling Author duo who write “heartwarming humor with a side of sizzle” about families, whether that be blood or found. They both have e-readers full of one-clickable books, they’re married to husbands who drive them to drink, and they’re both chauffeurs to their kids. Most of all, they love hot heroes and quirky heroines who make them laugh, and they hope you do, too!

Connect with Piper Rayne

Website: www.PiperRayne.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15810938.Piper_Rayne

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Piper-Rayne/e/B01ND0R15R

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BOOK BLITZ: Resting Grinch Face by Alina Jacobs #ContemporaryRomance #Holiday @XpressoTours @AlinaJWrites

Resting Grinch Face
Alina Jacobs
Publication date: November 17th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

I might not be able to ruin his life, but I will ruin his Christmas.
Yeah, I’m totally a grinch. But I come by it honestly.
Because of Oliver Frost, I flamed out at Harvard in the most humiliating way possible.
Now I’m back in my small town—just in time to suffer through a display of small-town Christmas cheer so festive it will make you puke your eggnog. But who cares about being home for the holidays when you live with your family like a loser and have to share one bathroom with seven other people?

I plan to spend my Christmas purgatory being tsked at by elderly residents and passive aggressively prodded by my mom’s friends about what I plan to do with my life.
I don’t know, Deborah, work in the Christmas market and get screamed at by tourists because I didn’t put enough sprinkles on their little brats’ coffees? Seriously, who gives five-year-olds that much caffeine anyway?!

See? Like I said. A grinch.
I hate Christmas.
I set a nativity scene on fire.
Got in a fistfight with an elf—I lost, by the way.
And threw a vat of Snowman Surprise all over Oliver. Don’t ask. Small-town Christmas insanity.
Sleigh what? Oliver is here???
The man who humiliated me and ruined my life?

Ho ho ho, fuck no.

He doesn’t deserve a quaint small-town Christmas.
He doesn’t deserve a fancy Christmas tree from my family’s farm.
And he certainly does not deserve to win a bottle of whiskey in the daily Christmas market raffle.
Goddamn, I needed that drink.
He should be haunted like Ebenezer Scrooge by the Ghost of Christmas Past. Or at least the Ghost of Hookups Past.

Momma’s gonna have herself a very merry Christmas revenge.
Swapping the salt and sugar so his Christmas cookies are ruined? Be still, my shriveled little heart.
Spying on him so I can gather recon to ruin his holidate? Damn, I forgot how ripped his chest was.
Sneaking down his chimney to steal all the presents under his tree? Amateur hour.
Until I get caught…

Guess I’m spending Christmas in jail.
But when he sees I’m not wearing a bra under my ugly Christmas sweater, Oliver smiles like Santa has come early.
Crap! I knew I should have worn my good underwear.

Hold on to your stockings because the eggnog is spicy and mostly booze. This is a fuck-second-chances, Santa-stalker, holiday-revenge romantic comedy. Featuring Christmas-hating heroines with poor decision-making skills, ripped guys who will leave a very large package under your tree, and adorable corgis dressed up as reindeer, this standalone book has a happily ever after, guaranteed!

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EXCERPT:

I slid like a squirrel straddling the roof peak, scooting along the ridgeline to the massive brick fireplace. I pried the round ceramic top off and stuck my head inside.

The Victorians liked their fireplaces.

While my parents’ wood-burning fire was more of a stovepipe, this house had been built to hold a massive fire.

I swung my feet over and shimmied into the chimney. Below me, Max must have figured out what was up because he was barking, the noise echoing up the chimney shaft.

“Dang, I can’t believe I fit,” I marveled. The cold air whipped my face, and I had a moment of clarity.

“Maybe this was a bridge too far,” I said and tried to hoist myself back up.

The chimney rim was slick with ice. My hand slipped. Then I fell down into the sooty black tube.

I stopped abruptly, my teeth knocking together.

“Help,” I squeaked.

I was stuck in the chimney, my arms wedged up above my head. Every time I let out a breath I slid farther down. My skirt was wedged under my boobs, and my sweater was wrapped around my head and neck.

“Help!” I rasped, kicking my legs. “Max, get help.”

The dog’s frantic barking changed to excited yips.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around my soot-covered thighs.

In any other scenario, I would have been really put out that Oliver was finally touching me only after I had flaked on working out the past year and developed a layer of winter flab. But I just wanted to be free. It was difficult to breathe.

“Save me,” I forced myself to whisper.

“Shit,” Oliver said, giving a solid tug on my legs.

I wedged down farther.

“I think you’re stuck in there.” His hands disappeared.

“Don’t leave me,” I begged.

His hand was back, his thumb stroking me reassuringly on my ankle.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to call the fire department. We’ll probably have to dismantle the chimney. I’m sure my neighbors will complain to me about it.” I heard the eye roll in his voice. Then his phone emitted beeps.

I kicked my feet. “Don’t you dare, Oliver Frost. Don’t you dare call the fire department. My mother will find out. I’ll be the talk of the town for years. Decades. It will be on my tombstone.”

“I can’t leave you here,” he said, voice echoing up the shaft.

“Oh, yes you can. I insist. I’ll be dead and done rotting in about three weeks. Then we can all just pretend this never happened.”

“Are you insane?”

Oh God. I had a horrible thought.

He can probably see straight up my crotch.

Was I wearing my nice underwear? Did I even own any sufficiently nice underwear?

“Please,” I begged. “My life is shit. Please just try pulling me out one more time?”

“I’m afraid to make you more stuck. Embarrassment won’t kill you.”

“It literally will,” I shrieked with my remaining breath.

Oliver muttered something that sounded like “God save me from this woman.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, moving the logs and the metal grate out of the way. “I’m giving this one shot. Then we’re going to host the fire department for the second time in as many days.”

After a rustling of fabric, his large hands slid up my bare legs.

“Sorry for manhandling you like this.”

His bare arms circled my waist, and I squawked as he wrapped them around my bare torso, connecting my body with his.

I could feel his bare chest against my thighs.

His head was somewhere in crotch vicinity, and he squeezed me tight.

Maybe I could just tell him to eat me out and then die happy.

Oliver gave a sharp hard tug. My sweater slipped up.

He adjusted his grasp and pulled, grunting hard.

“I think I’m moving,” I called.

He gave one more strong tug. My sweater ripped, and then I was free, tumbling down in a heap of ash and yarn on top of him.

He was covered in black soot. It was all over his pale skin, turning his hair a dark gray and making his eyes a startlingly bright blue.

“See,” I said, spreading my arms. “I knew you could do it. And you wanted to call the fire department.”

He didn’t say a word. He was staring at me, or more specifically my boobs.

I looked down.

“Elf balls.”

Author Bio:

If you like steamy romantic comedies with a creative streak, then I’m your girl!

Architect by day, writer by night, I love matcha green tea, chocolate, and books! So many books…

Sign up for my mailing list to get the free novella, AFTER HIS PEONIES, along with special bonus content, giveaways, and more!

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BOOK BLITZ: A Mountain Leads Home by Shelley Kassian #HolidayRomance #ContemporaryRomance @RABTBookTours

Contemporary Romance, Holiday Romance

Date Published: November 15, 2022

 

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When Australian Taylor Quinn travels to the Canadian Rockies, he least
expects his holiday to be challenged by a snowboarding accident. The injury
prevents further winter sports, but the hospital stay nurtures an optimistic
connection: A nurse, with a finger on his pulse, supports his recovery and
takes a chance on what could become a promising friendship.

Working on a trauma unit, Sarah Evans desires more than another critical
care patient. When she meets Taylor, there’s something about him that
appeals to her relationship goals. Maybe it’s the kindness in his eyes
or his jovial warmhearted personality, but an ethical dilemma ensues when
her care extends beyond the hospital setting. This heartfelt risk could lead
to happiness, to the love she’s been searching for, maybe even a home
far away from family, friends, and her native country.

What will a snowboarder and a nurse do when circumstances beyond their
control end the holiday, potentially injuring their newfound romance? Will
Taylor return to Australia? Will Sarah risk everything for the love
she’s found?

About the Author

Bestselling author Shelley Kassian has been writing timeless love stories
filled with romance or dark fantasy (romantasy) for more than twenty years,
novels that include her recent true love story, A Mountain Leads Home. A
history enthusiast, she’s traveled far and wide to explore secret
gardens and medieval castles, having an avid interest in the Tudor period.
Her prose has been described as “near rhapsodic,” “pitch
perfect,” and “stylishly straightforward, rarely relying on
complex turns of phrase.” Reviewers have said her narrative conveys
“imaginative fantasy,” “fascinating characters,” and
“refreshing romance.”

Shelley’s taken creative writing courses, holds board positions
within professional associations, and retains a Professional Editing
Certificate. Drawing on her expertise, she has mentored novice writers, but
her passion comes alive while scribing her stories into novel-length
fiction. Shelley shares her life with her husband, adores her adult children
and two grand pups, and when not relaxing at her seaside cottage, lives in
Calgary, Alberta, Canada.

 

Contact Links

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BOOK TOUR: The Road to Christmas by Sheila Roberts #HolidayRomance #ContemporaryRomance @_Sheila_Roberts

From USA TODAY bestselling author Sheila Roberts, three generations of travelers embark on a Christmas road trip filled with humor and heart, set against the snowy mountains of Washington State…

By Sheila Roberts

Michelle and Max are not planning on a happy holiday. Their marriage is in shambles and the  D word has entered their vocabulary. But now their youngest daughter, Julia, wants everyone to come to her new house in Idaho for Christmas, and she’s got the guest room all ready for Mom and Dad. Oh, joy.

Their other daughters, Audrey and Shyla, are driving up from California and hoping to meet a sexy rancher for Audrey along the way. What they don’t plan on is getting stranded on a ranch when the car breaks down.

The ones with the shortest drive are Grandma and Grandpa–also known as Hazel and Warren. It’s still a bit of a trek, and Hazel doesn’t like the idea of driving all that way in snow, but Warren knows they’ll have no problem. They have a reliable car–and snow tires and chains if they need them. They’ll be fine.

Surprises lie in store for all three sets of intrepid travelers as they set out on three very different adventures, all leading to one memorable family Christmas.

Book Information

Release Date: January 21, 2021

Publisher:  Harlequin (MIRA)

Soft Cover: ISBN:978-0778386568; 320 pages; $15.29; eBook $11.99

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3BOS5yL 

Walmart: https://bit.ly/3UAwIZs

Book Excerpt

Chapter One

Michelle Turnbull would have two turkeys in her house for Thanksgiving. One would be on the table, the other would be sitting at it.

“I can’t believe he’s still there,” said Ginny, her longtime clerk at the Hallmark store she managed. “You two are splitting so why not pull the bandage off and be done with it?”

Pull the bandage off. There was an interesting metaphor. Pulling off a bandage implied that a wound was healing. The wound that was her marriage wasn’t healing. It was fatal.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and went to unlock the door. “Because I don’t want to ruin the holidays for the girls.”

“You think they aren’t going to figure out what’s going on with you two sleeping in separate bedrooms now? Don’t be naive.” Ginny may have been her subordinate, but that didn’t stop her from acting like Michelle’s mother. A ten year age difference and a long friendship probably contributed to that.

Michelle turned the sign on the door to open. “I’ll tell them he snores.”

“All of a sudden, out of the blue?”

“Sleep apnea. He’s gained some weight.”

Ginny gave a snort. “Not that much. Max may have an inch hanging over the belt line but he’s still in pretty good shape.”

“You don’t have to be overweight to have sleep apnea.”

“I guess,” Ginny said dubiously. “But, Michelle, you guys have been having problems on and off for the last three years. Your girls have to know this is coming so I doubt your sleep apnea excuse is going to fool anyone.”

Probably not. Much as she and Max had tried to keep their troubles from their daughters, bits of bitterness and reproach had leaked out over time in the form of sarcasm and a lack of what Shyla would have referred to as PDA’s. Michelle couldn’t remember the last time they’d held hands or kissed in front of any of their daughters. In fact, it was hard to remember the last time they’d kissed. Period.

“You have my permission to kick him to the curb as of yesterday,” Ginny went on. “If you really want your holidays to be happy get him gone.”

“Oh yeah, that would make for happy holidays,” Michelle said. “Audrey and Shyla would love coming home to find their father moved out just in time for Thanksgiving dinner and their grandparents missing.”

“If you’re getting divorced that’s what they’ll find next year,” Ginny pointed out.

“But at least they’ll have a year to adjust,” Michelle said. “And this is Julia’s first Christmas in her new home and with a baby. I don’t want to take the shine away from that.”

The coming year would put enough stress on them all. She certainly wasn’t going to kick it all off on Thanksgiving. That would make for happy holidays.

Happy holidays. Who was she kidding? The upcoming holidays weren’t going to be happy no matter what.

“Well, I see your point,” said Ginny. “But good luck pulling off the old sleep apnea deception.”

Their first customer of the day came in and that ended all talk of Michelle’s marriage miseries. Which was fine with her.

After work, she stopped at the grocery store and picked up the last of what she needed for Thanksgiving – the whipped cream for the fruit salad and to top the pumpkin and pecan pies, the extra eggnog, for Shyla, her eggnog addict, and Dove dark chocolates for Audrey and Constant Comment tea, which was Hazel’s favorite.

Hazel. World’s best mother-in-law. When she and Max divorced he’d take Hazel and Warren, her second parents, with him. The thought made it hard to force a smile for the checkout clerk. She stepped out of line. She needed one more thing.

She hurried back to the candy aisle and picked up more dark chocolate, this time for her personal stash. She was going to need it.

Hazel and Warren were the first to arrive, coming in the day before Thanksgiving, Hazel bringing pecan pie and the makings for her famous Kahlua yams.

“Hello, darling,” Hazel said, greeting her with a hug. “You look lovely as always. I do wish I had you slender figure,” she added as they stepped inside.

“You look fine just the way you are,” Michelle assured her.

“I swear, the older I get the harder the pounds cling to my hips,” Hazel said.

“You look fine, hon,” said Warren as he gave Michelle one of his big bear hugs. “She’s still as pretty as the day I met her,” he told Michelle.

“Yes, all twenty new wrinkles and five new pounds. On top of the others,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Who notices pounds when they’re looking at your smile?” Michelle said to her. “Here, let me take your coats.”

Hazel set down the shopping bag full of goodies and shrugged out of her coat with the help of her husband. “Where’s our boy?”

Who knew? Who cared?.

“Out running errands,” she said. “I’ll text him that you’re here. First, let’s get you settled.”

“I’m ready for that,” Hazel said. “The drive from Oregon gets longer every time.”

“It’s not that far,” said Warren, and followed her up the stairs.

Half an hour later Max had returned and he and his father were in the living room, the sports channel keeping them company, and the two women were in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea. The yams were stored in the fridge and the pecan pie was in its container, resting on the counter next to the pumpkin pie Michelle had taken out of the oven. A large pot of vegetable soup was bubbling on the stove and French bread was warming. It would be a light evening meal to save everyone tummy room for the next day’s feast.

“I’m looking forward to seeing the girls,” Hazel said.

“So am I,” said Michelle.

She hated that all her girls had moved so far away. Not that she minded hopping a plane to see either Audrey or Shyla. It wasn’t a long flight from SeaTac International to either San Francisco International or LAX, but it also wasn’t the same as having them living nearby. Julia wasn’t as easily accessible, which made her absence either harder to take. She’d been the final baby bird to leave the nest, and her departure had been hardest. Perhaps because she was the last. Perhaps because it seemed she grew up and left all in one quick motherly blink – college, the boyfriend, the pregnancy, marriage, then moving. It had been hard to let go of her baby. And even harder with that baby taking the first grandchild with her.

Maybe, in some ways though, it wasn’t a bad thing that her daughters were living in different states because they hadn’t been around that much to see the final deterioration of their parents’ marriage.

Michelle hoped they still wouldn’t see it, hoped like a magician she could use the art of misdirection. She consulted her phone. It was almost time for Audrey’s flight to land. Shyla’s was getting in not long after.

“Audrey’s going to text when they’re here,” she said.

“It will be lovely to all be together again,” said Hazel. “Family is so important.”

Was that some sort of message, a subtle judgement? “How about some more tea?” Michelle suggested. And more chocolate for me.

Another fifteen minutes and Max and Warren were on their way to pick up the girls, and forty minutes after that they were coming through the door, Shyla’s laugh echoing all the way out to the kitchen. “We’re here!” she called.

“Let the fun begin,” said Hazel, and the two women left the kitchen.

They got to the front hall, in time to see her husband heading up the stairs with their suitcases and Warren relieving them of their coats.

“Hi Mom,” said Audrey, and hurried to hug her mother.

Shyla was right behind her.

“Welcome home,” Michelle said to her girls, hugging first one, then the other. “It’s so good to have you home.”

“It’s not like we’ve been in a foreign country,” Shyla teased.

“May as well be,” Michelle said. “And before you remind me how much we text and talk on the phone, it’s much better having you here in person where I can hug you.”

“Hugs are good,” Audrey agreed.

“We brought you chocolate,” Shyla said, handing over a gift bag.

Michelle knew what it was even before she looked inside. Yep, Ghirardelli straight from San Francisco.

“I know you can get it anywhere, but this is right from the source,” said Shyla.

More important, it was right from the heart.

“And you don’t have to share,” Audrey said. “We brought Dad some, too.”

Sharing with Dad. There was little enough she and Max shared anymore. “That was sweet of you.”

“We figured you might need it,” Audrey said.

Was she referring to Michelle’s troubled relationship with their father?

“After last Thanksgiving,” Shyla added.

Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, they were talking about the power outage, which had ruined both the turkey and the pie she’d been baking.

The girls had loved it, settling in to play cards by candlelight. Michelle had been frustrated. And far from happy with her husband who’d said, “Chill, Chelle. It’s no big deal.”

It had been to her, but she’d eventually adjusted, lit the candles on the table and served peanut butter and jelly sandwiches along with olives and pickles and the fruit salad she’d made. Hazel had declared the meal a success.

“Oh, and this.” Shyla dug in the bag she was still carrying and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. “For just in case we have to eat peanut butter sandwiches again.”

Hazel chuckled. “You girls think of everything.”

“Yes, we do,” Audrey said, and from her capacious purse pulled out a box of crackers. “In case we run out of bread.”

“Now, we’re set,” said Michelle, and smiled. It was the first genuine smile she’d worn since the last time she’d been with the girls. It felt good.

“Oh, and I have something special for you, Gram,” Shyla said to Hazel. “It’s in my suitcase. Come on upstairs.”

And see where the girls were staying and wonder why they were stuffed in the sewing room and not the other guest room. “Why don’t you bring it down here?” Michelle suggested.

“I should stir my stumps,” Hazel said, and followed her up the stairs.

Audrey fell in behind and Michelle trailed after, her stomach starting to squirm. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure about that excuse she’d invented for changing the sleeping arrangements between her husband and herself. Which she was now going to have to do as her daughters’ sleeping arrangements had been changed because of it. Trying to sell their parents’ separate bedrooms to her daughters in front of her mother-in-law. The squirming got worse.

But sharing a bed had become a joke and the joke was over. After their last fight the D word had gone from threat to reality. They were nothing more than roommates – rotten ones at that – and roommates didn’t share a bed.

They passed the first bedroom at the top of the stairs, which had once been Audrey’s and had been serving as a guest room ever since she graduated from college and got her first apartment. It was where Warren and Hazel slept when they came to visit. Then came the second room, which had been Julia’s but was serving as Max’s new bedroom. The door was shut, hiding the evidence. Shyla reached for the doorknob, assuming she’d be sleeping in it as she often did.

“Not that room,” Michelle said quickly. “I have you girls together,” she said, leading to Shyla’s old room, which was serving as the sewing room. It still had a pull-out bed in it for overflow sleeping when Michelle’s brother’s family came to stay. She hurried to open it, revealing the girls’ luggage sitting on the floor.

Audrey looked at Michelle, her brows pulled together. “We’re in the sewing room?”

“You girls don’t mind sharing a room, right?” Michelle said lightly.

“What happened to Julia’s old room?” Shyla asked.

“We’re not using that room for that now,” Michelle hedged.

“More storage?” Shyla moved back down the hall and opened the door. “What the …?”

“Your father’s sleeping there,” Michelle said. Hazel looked at her in surprise, igniting a fire in her cheeks.

“Dad?” Audrey repeated.

“He snores,” said Michelle. “Sleep apnea.”

“Sleep apnea,” Hazel repeated, trying out a foreign and unwanted word.

“Has he done a sleep test?” Audrey asked.

“Not yet,” said Michelle. She smiled, kept her gaze averted from her daughter’s eyes.

“Gosh, Mom, that’s a serious sleep disorder.”

“How come you didn’t tell us?” Shyla wanted to know.

“Has he done a sleep test? Is he getting a CPAP machine?” Audrey sounded ready to panic.

“Don’t worry, everything’s under control,” Michelle lied. Audrey looked ready to keep probing so Michelle hustled to change the subject. “Shyla, what did your bring Gram?”

“Wait ‘til you see it. It’s so cute,” Shyla said, hurrying to unzip her suitcase. “I found it in a thrift shop.”

“Still shopping smart. I’m proud of you,” Hazel said.

“I learned from the best – you and Mom.” She pulled out a little green stuffed felt cactus inserted in a miniature terracotta pot and surrounded by beach glass. “It’s a pin cushion,” she said as she presented it.

“That is darling,” said Hazel.

From where she stood by the doorway Michelle let out a breath then took another. Like a good magician performing sleight of hand, she had directed attention in another direction and pulled off her trick. Now you see trouble, now you don’t.

How long could she keep up the act?

 

Author Interview
I’m sure the readers would love some insight into your writing…
What inspired you to start writing?

You know, it’s hard to point to any one thing that inspired me. I was writing stories when I was a child – probably read my first creation to my fourth grade class. (Captive audience!)

When you’re starting a new book, which comes first – plot or characters?
The idea. Got to have an idea! Then the character, and then slowly but surely the plot comes together.

Describe your writing space.

I have a laptop so my writing space is usually somewhere in our living room. We have a lovely view out our window, so it’s not a chore to go to work. 

Describe your typical writing day.

For me, there is no such thing. I write every day, but the time of day and the number of hours I spend changes, depending on my schedule. I’m involved in a lot of things and am very social, so my writing schedule often revolves around other things in my life. 

How do you cope with writing emotionally charged or stressful scenes?

Thanks to imagination, I think it’s pretty easy for a writer to empathize with what a character is going through… or to draw on emotions if she’s experienced something heartwarming or tragic. For example, having been with my mother when she had a stroke and later when she died it wasn’t hard to remember the emotional upheaval of losing someone. We’ve also lost a child. Frankly, I don’t think I could ever write a scene where a parent loses a child. I’ll have to leave that to other story tellers.

In regards to The Road to Christmas… 
Do you have a favorite character in your latest book?
I love all the story lines in that book, and I’m especially fond of the grandmother, Hazel. But I think my favorite character is one of the sisters – Shyla. She’s funny and fun and I would so hang out with her. 🙂
What inspired the story?

The idea of a road trip appealed to me. Road trips can be such an adventure – add in the holidays and you have all kinds of crazy things that can go wrong … and right!

What were the key challenges you faced while writing this book?

Research – it’s always research. Any time I’m writing about things I don’t know I try to talk to an expert to make sure I get it right. In the case of my character who needs some work done on his heart, that was pretty easy. I, myself, had to get a heart ablation to fix my A-fib, so I sure knew from personal experience what happens when your heart misbehaves.

Do you have any new books planned?

There’s always a new book planned! I’m excited about MERMAID BEACH, which will be out this coming spring. And I’m currently hard at work on next year’s Christmas novel.

Let’s get a little more personal for a moment… 
Do you have a favorite food?

Haha. It’s more like is there any food I don’t like. (Liver. Ick!) Love pizza, anything sweet and, if I get to choose where to go to dinner, it’s always Chinese.

If you could invite one person to dinner, who would it be and why?

Tom Hanks. I really admire his work.

Describe yourself in three words.

Bossy, caring, fun.
And, if I could add one more word: grateful. I’m so happy I get to do what I do for a living. Thank you to all of you who are readers and allow me that privilege!
About the Author

USA Today and Publishers Weekly best-selling author Sheila Roberts
has written over fifty books under various names, ranging from romance
to self-improvement. Over three million books have been sold to date.
Her humor and heart have won her a legion of fans and her novels have
been turned into movies for both the Lifetime and Hallmark channels.
When she’s not out dancing with her husband or hanging out with her
girlfriends, she can be found writing about those things near and dear
to women’s hearts: family, friends and chocolate.

Her latest book is the women’s fiction/romance The Road to Christmas (Harlequin/Mira, September ’22)

Visit her website at http://www.sheilasplace.com. Connect with her at Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.

Sponsored By:

SPOTLIGHT: Silent Knight/Sleepless Knight by Gale Stanley #LGBTQ #holidayromance @GaleStanley

Silent Knight: Paul Stanton thought he had it all — until his lover dumped him for another man, forcing Paul to rethink his life. But when a trip home for the holidays goes predictably wrong, Paul ends up stranded in the woods. There’s more to Andy Reynolds than meets the eye. But is a chance encounter enough to bind two men who have nothing in common except their sex?

Sleepless Knight: When the two-year itch infects their relationship, Andy arranges a much needed vacation. Andy will do anything to make Paul happy, even if it means bringing another man into their bed. But is a threesome really the answer? Or will it drive them further apart?

Publisher’s Note: Silent Knight, Sleepless Knight (Duet) contains the previously published novellas Silent Knight and Sleepless Knight.

Get it at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2017 Gale Stanley
Excerpt from Silent Knight


Andy moved through the woods in a slow stalk. Nothing beat hunting in the snow. Most Keystone State hunters called it quits by late December, but Andy was a hardheaded optimist. Besides, he enjoyed the solitude, and dealing with winter’s stark elements provided an extra challenge. There were other pluses as well. Even a novice hunter could follow the deer tracks, and the light wind dispersed Andy’s scent and covered any sounds he made.

But the wind picked up, blowing the snow sideways. Deer tended to lay low during high winds. It looked like this hunt would end with no game. Good thing these hunting trips weren’t all about the kill. Andy hunted for food, but mostly to get out, and be a part of nature. The experience took him back to a happy time when his parents were still alive. He and his dad spent a lot of time in the woods. No TV, no cars, no other people, just the two of them hanging out and having a good time. Half the time they came home empty handed, but it didn’t matter. Andy’s mom would welcome them home with a good, hot meal.

God, he missed them. At least they’d died together. A car accident. Never knew what hit them, according to the coroner. Andy had come home to bury them a year ago and never left.

Snow on an overhanging branch dropped white bombs on Andy’s head. He brushed it off, and looked around. No animal life disturbed the spectacular view. No sound, except for the howling wind. He felt insignificant in these surroundings, yet more alive than he did in the city.

Andy packed up his gear and started backtracking toward his ATV. The wind blasted him and drove him off his path a few times, but finally the gusts eased and the ATV appeared in his sights. It occurred to him he might have to leave it, but old reliable started right up. Andy nosed it around and got back on the road, recognizable because it was the only stretch clear of trees. Mishaps were more common in the winter, but the white stuff didn’t intimidate Andy. He knew these backwoods like the —

Andy swerved to the left to avoid the man in his path. The ATV slammed into a car, and Andy catapulted feet over head. One second he was behind the wheel, the next he was flying through the air. Andy landed face down in a snow covered hill of pinecones that cushioned his touchdown. Everything happened so fast. For a few scary seconds he couldn’t breathe, then someone grabbed him and rolled him over.

Before Andy could react, a hand gripped his chin and tilted his head backward. An ear covered his mouth.

“What the fuck!” Andy cried out. He opened his eyes just as the other man jerked his head back. When Andy’s blurry vision cleared, he saw a pair of worried eyes staring down at him. Snowflakes drifted around the stranger’s head, and stuck to his long dark lashes. The sound of the wind faded into the background, and the silent snowy woods provided a surreal backdrop behind the green-eyed stranger. Andy sucked in a frosty breath. In the midst of the chilling temperatures, heat sparked in his groin.

“Are you okay?”

The voice brought Andy back to reality. “No thanks to you.”

Andy attempted to get up, but Green-eyes gripped his arms and held him down. “Don’t move, you might have broken something.”

“Don’t even try playing white knight. This is your fault, asshole.”

Green-eyes backed off and held his hands up in surrender.

Andy struggled to a sitting position and glared at the other man. “I’m fucking freezing, and you want me to lay here.”

“Sss-sorry.”

Andy stared at the man’s stuttering lips. They were blue. The color didn’t go well with his eyes. Oh hell! His white knight was in worse shape than he was. “Gimme a hand,” Andy barked. “We need to get outta this storm before we both freeze.”

* * *

The snow-covered man winced as Paul hauled him up. Only an inch or two taller than Paul, he appeared a lot bigger in his thickly padded hunting jacket. A thick beard hid most of the man’s face. Paul hoped like hell the hunter wasn’t another former classmate.

“Fuck!” The hunter pulled his hand from Paul’s grip and rubbed his right hip.

A twinge of guilt pierced Paul’s gut, but he kept his mouth shut. This man had made it plain he didn’t want Paul’s help.

“Just bruised,” the hunter said. “Could have been worse. I could have been killed. Or killed you.”

“Look, I sss-aid I was sss-sorry –“

“Forget it. What are you doing out here?”

It was too cold for a conversation. Paul gave him the short version. “Paul Stanton, home for the holidays. I just had a close encounter with a tree. That was my rental car you hit.” He clenched his mouth shut to stop his teeth from chattering.

“Andy Reynolds.” Andy waved at the vehicles. “Looks like we’re walking. My cabin’s not far.”

Paul’s chest tightened as he watched Andy walk off. Do I really want to go home with this big redneck? Andy Reynolds already hated him. The name didn’t ring any bells, but so what? Reynolds looked like every other homophobic asshole in this town. Paul shivered and tucked his frozen hands under his armpits.

Andy looked back. “You coming?”

If I stay out here, I’ll freeze to death. Paul started walking.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

Now in Paperback: Krampus Bah Humbug by Crymsyn Hart #darkfantasy #holidayromance #LGBTQ @crymsynhart

Elves running amok in Christmas Town… cannibal gingerbread men… Krampus is in for the ride of his life!

Claiming Cupid: Krampus never thought his heart could be captured — until he met Cupid.

Krampus Does Dallas: Riding a bull has never been more stimulating!

Forging Krampus: Samhain is determined to rock Krampus’s world, but something dark is eating away at Samhain’s realm.

Krampus to the Rescue: Only Krampus can make Santa say ho-ho-ho!

Krampus Bah Humbug: Krampus has to get with the holiday attitude or lose all he holds dear. Bah, Humbug!

Y’all Tied Up: Clive and Aniston must escape before Krampus can feed them to the cannibal gingerbread men!

Publisher’s Note: Krampus Bah Humbug contains the previously released novellas Claiming CupidKrampus Does DallasForging KrampusKrampus to the RescueKrampus Bah Humbug, and Y’all Tied Up. The Krampus Box Set presents these stories in chronological order, rather than the original release order.

Available at Amazon

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2021 Crymsyn Hart
Excerpt from Krampus Does Dallas

“Have a good evening.” Krampus moved through the crowd that had gathered around them. He entered the town. The shops had closed up for the day. The road was dry and in need of rain. The only rowdy place was the tavern. He slid inside. Few people noticed as he walked in, but they didn’t say anything when he sat down in a corner booth. He sat back and watched the place fill with the laborers of the town. A waitress came by and set a mug down on his table.

“You sit at a table, you gotta order food.”

“Fine. Bring me whatever’s on the menu.”

The waitress came back with some kind of stew and bread. He dipped the bread into the broth and took a taste of it. He coughed at the seasoning. Besides having an overabundance of pepper, it was edible. His stomach growled. He thought about his interaction with the owner of the rodeo. He’d bought a bull. Why the hell did I buy the bull? I don’t need it. Now I’m stuck with the beast. I’m sure it’s had a taxing life.

He glanced up from his meal when the noise level dropped. A group from the rodeo entered the tavern. One of the thugs who had stopped him approached the bartender. The group followed behind him.

“A round of ale for the lot.”

The bartender crossed his arms over his chest. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Your kind ain’t wanted here. Best if you get out before I have someone throw you out.”

“We have a right to be here just as anyone else.” The thug sat at the bar. The rest moved into a table that emptied out since they had come in. The rodeo participants all looked as though they had a difficult life. All were tanned and wrinkled from years in the sun and hard work. Krampus didn’t envy them. The tension in the bar grew. He sat back. The bartender and the other patrons surrounded them.

A cloaked figure slipped past them and hovered by Krampus’s table.

“Why don’t you sit here? It looks like everywhere else is taken.” Krampus found himself saying.

The man looked at him. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t. Sit or don’t sit.”

Krampus pushed the plate aside and laid a couple of silver coins on the table. They would more than cover the cost of his meal and the ale. He didn’t want the waitress to hassle him any longer. The man glanced at the coins and the unfinished bowl of stew. He sat down and reached for the stew. Then the stranger pulled his hand back.

“You going to eat that?”

“Have at it.”

The stranger’s hands were dark, almost like polished black marble. His arms were decorated with long-healed-over scars. The man took the bowl and brought it in close to him, protecting it. When he ate, the hood of his cloak fell away, revealing a bald head, a strong jaw and a flat nose. His eyes were gold when he looked up at Krampus. Something in that gaze stirred Krampus’s desire.

“What?” the man asked around a mouthful of bread.

“Nothing. I just noticed you were hungry. I could make it worth your while if you wanted to come back to the house with me.”

“So you can fuck me? I’m not a whore. I see how you’re looking at me.”

Krampus held back a smile. “No. I wasn’t considering sex. I just meant I have better food than what you have there. Plus, you can sleep in a bed. It looks like you might need it. No strings attached.”

The other man eyed him. “I thought you said you didn’t care.”

“It’s obvious your companions don’t care about you or you would’ve come in with them. And you wouldn’t have been hiding your appearance. I’m surprised you’re still with them. Of course, I could be way off on my observations. Come or not, but I’m leaving.” Krampus got up from the booth and left the tavern. After he rejoined the darkness, the tavern door slammed shut.

“Where are we going?”

“Follow me.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Crymsyn Hart is a National Bestselling author of over eighty paranormal romance and horror novels. Her experiences as a psychic and ghostly encounters have given her a lot of material to use in her books. Vampires, grim reapers, shifters, and other paranormal creatures tend to end up in her books no matter how hard she tries to keep them away.

She currently resides in Charlotte, NC with her hubby and her three dogs. If she’s not writing, she’s curled up with the dogs watching a good horror movie or off with friends.

To find out more about Crymsyn, check out her website on: www.crymsynhart.com

New Release: The Night Bartender by Alexa Piper #darkfantasy #holidayromance #LGBTQ @prowlingpiper

Aaron has come to Fairview to find his ex’s teenage sister, who went missing in the city. As a witch both rich and powerful, Aaron follows a trail that leads him to a bar frequented by supernaturals and to a bartender who attracts Aaron’s attention — and not just because the bartender is keeping something from Aaron. When Aaron runs out of leads, he follows the mysterious and pretty bartender, and the next thing Aaron knows, he’s foiling an attempted abduction.

Ilya has built a quiet life in Fairview mixing drinks and flying under the radar. He is a banshee, and the psychic ability and mild telepathy that comes with that makes Ilya a sought-after commodity. That carefully constructed life Ilya built for himself breaks into a thousand pieces when a handsome witch starts asking questions and becomes Ilya’s rescuer mere hours after they meet.

The witch, Aaron, vows to protect Ilya and to keep his secret. Now Ilya has to decide whether he will give Aaron his trust and risk a lonely but safe life as a night bartender in a wintry city in which people disappear only to then turn up murdered.

Save 15% at Changeling Press

Preorder for December 10th at online retailers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Alexa Piper

Aaron buried his hands in his coat pockets and gave the bleak Fairview midday sky a hard look. Not that the sky gave much of a damn. It was late November, just after the Thanksgiving weekend, and for most of the morning, it had sleeted in a way Aaron had never before experienced in his life. It was like a hot shower, except the cold, freezing water got all the way through to your skin and passed the cold to every inch of your body.

“Damn city just might be cursed with bad weather,” Aaron mumbled as he walked along a street in the Old Town, which should lead him to a bar friendly to the not-quite-human clientele if his online research skills hadn’t failed him. A deep black cloud caught his attention. It zapped across the horizon as if blown by a particularly vicious breeze. Aaron frowned before he picked up his pace. The sooner I’m done here, the sooner I can go back to Morrowvale where November doesn’t suck so bad your balls want to freeze off in surrender, he thought.

In all honesty, Fairview wasn’t a bad place. The city itself was nice enough. The parks and trees here littered the streets with the bones of leaves turning to sludge in the puddles left from the earlier sleet showers, and the people, while ignoring both other people and the suck-tastic weather, dressed a little nicer than the average Morrowvaler. Aaron had also never had Japanese food as good as he’d had an hour ago in a small, unassuming place he’d accidentally walked into, at least not outside Japan. That counted for something, at least in Aaron’s book.

Traffic was in what passed for a bit of a midday lull in Fairview. The honking had ebbed to a not-eardrum-shattering noise, and Aaron managed to cross the street without it feeling like he was gambling with his life.

The Ragdoll was a basement bar, and if Aaron hadn’t been looking for it, he probably would have missed the small neon sign that was either broken or just off this early in the day. A wrought-iron fence further hid the sign and the door, which lay at the bottom of a flight of stairs. This could be a private gambling den or the hideout of a bunch of Russian spies, Aaron thought.

He walked down the stairs and pulled the door open just as another sleet shower was getting ready to wash the streets and everyone walking outside with icy wetness. Aaron shivered as he crossed the threshold and blinked into the softly lit bar.

Last week’s Thanksgiving paper turkeys and fall-colored garlands were still up, though a busboy collected the decorations into a cardboard box labeled “Turkey Day” in black sharpie. There were no Russian spies and no gambling going on here.

Surprisingly, there were several patrons in the bar this early in the day. Aaron spotted a handful starting their day’s drinking early, but most nursed mugs of coffee or were digging into sandwiches which, admittedly, looked better than was right in a basement bar. Judging by their business suits, those were just office workers who knew where the good sandwiches were at. The music was pop, playing just loud enough to offer background noise without becoming obnoxious. This place, despite the outward appearance, looked hip, trendy even. Fucking Fairview. This city is as confusing as a clown at a dinner party, Aaron thought.

Aaron’s fingers closed around the talisman in his pocket. With his touch and the smallest pinch of magic, he felt the worked metal coin activate and the spell bound to it sizzle to life. Three people, including the strawberry-blonde girl behind the bar, whipped their head around to look at him. So, this place really is supernatural friendly, Aaron thought. The talisman heated rapidly in his pocket. And Dora definitely was here before she disappeared.

That confirmed, he let go of the talisman and walked straight to the bartender. The other two patrons who’d noticed his magic had gone back to ignoring him like the good Fairviewers they were.

“Hi,” Aaron said, giving the strawberry blonde his best winning smile. “What’s good here?”

She shrugged. “Depends on whether it’s drink-o’clock in your world or not. If not, the pumpkin spice latte kills. If yes, you look like a Macallan kind of guy.”

Aaron grinned at her. “You’d be right about the whiskey, but I think I’ll go with the latte,” he told her.

He was doing his best with the charming vibes, which usually worked even if he turned it on women, but the bartender just nodded and went about preparing his coffee. Aaron watched her, more interested in the fact that she was making coffee at a bar decked out with an impressive assortment of liquor than anything else. The coffee machine was one of those intimidating ones that took up some primo counter real estate, and from the looks of it, it saw some use.

When she was done, she brought the latte over to him and puffed a dash of cinnamon over the foamy top right in front of him. The warm scent of the spice immediately made Aaron feel just a little more optimistic about everything. The mug was the cutesy kind with a grinning, red-nosed reindeer on the side.

“There you go,” she said with little enthusiasm, though not exactly unfriendly.

“Thanks, miss,” Aaron said. Before she could walk away again, he focused on her instead of the latte. “Could I ask you something?”

“I’m guessing I’m not your type, so go right ahead,” she said.

Aaron’s eyes widened, and it was the girl’s turn to chuckle. “Half-succubus,” she said on a whisper. “The gay-dar is practically built-in.”

He nodded, fighting the color rising to his cheeks. “Right. Makes sense.” Aaron cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you’ve seen this girl,” he said and pulled the photo Patrick had given him from his pocket. It showed Dora smiling, her blond hair shimmering in the sun.

The half-succubus took a look, then shook her head. “No, sorry. Friend of yours?”

“My ex’s sister, believe it or not,” Aaron said. “She went missing, and I tracked her first to Fairview, and now here.” Aaron had the cellphone gods to thank for that. It made using his magic almost unnecessary, although Aaron still liked to confirm the actual person had been to a place, not just their phone, hence his talisman.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them. Connect with Alexa on Facebook or Instagram, follow her on Twitter or TikTok, and subscribe to her newsletter!

Visit her website.

New Release: O Christmas Tree by Emily Carrington #LGBTQ #holidayromance @CarringtonEmily

For Jake, losing his eyesight isn’t nearly as frightening as having to rely on someone else. Especially if he wants that other person to be his lover. He was taught from an early age that being gay is synonymous with being a sissy and he can’t see past that lesson to the one Tyler is trying to teach him.

Tyler has been attracted to Jake since they first met. When Jake comes to Tyler’s bed, it seems all of Tyler’s dreams are coming true. Except Jake doesn’t want more than friends with benefits. Can Tyler stand being Jake’s second choice?

Save 15% at Changeling Press

Preorder for December 10th at retailers

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Emily Carrington

For Tyler Carter, there was no better pre-Christmas present than watching Jake swim. The lean-muscled, pale-skinned man was God’s gift to the world of gay men. With his Irish last name, Calhoun, he should have been freckled too, but Jake had been adopted. Tyler sometimes wondered how his mother could have possibly given him up as a baby. But maybe she’d had no choice.

He watched Jake knifing his way through the water at Colton University’s pool and his cock rolled over in its winter hibernation. It took very little time in Jake’s presence to waken Tyler’s body even though they’d never even kissed. Hell, they’d never even held hands.

Jake knew nothing of Tyler’s longing, although Tyler was hoping the vacation they were taking together would change that.

Shoulder-length chestnut brown hair was plastered to Jake’s head like a helmet and Tyler’s fingers itched to touch the slightly curly locks. Jake’s tattoo, on the right side of his back and over that shoulder, was of a dolphin and ocean waves. The twenty-seven-year-old certainly swam like a dolphin.

Tyler knew he should call to Jake, get his attention. They were due at an appointment in less than an hour and who knew how long it would take Jake to get dressed? But Tyler couldn’t quite bring himself to raise his voice or even to speak. Jake was so beautiful while swimming.

If Tyler watched much longer, he’d have to hide in a bathroom and take care of his little problem before the appointment.

He approached the edge of the pool, not close enough to get accidentally splashed. He thought, All the angels in heaven would sing your praise if they were allowed.

Jake was in the second lane from the edge and when he reached the deep end’s side, he finally came up for air. He shook his bangs out of his eyes and turned his head. Maybe he’d somehow sensed Tyler’s nearness, or he was looking for him. Their gazes met and locked. Jake’s grin lit up his whole face, from stretching lips that were slightly pinker than the rest of his skin to crinkling the corners of absolutely stunning hazel eyes.

He swam over to Tyler, gestured for him to step back a bit, and then, with what looked like very little effort, hoisted himself out of the deep end.

Tyler wanted to turn away and adjust his jeans so his boner wouldn’t be so obvious, but he knew doing anything like that would draw more rather than less attention to his reaction. So, feeling his cheeks heat up, he grinned back at Jake.

“Are you early or did I lose track of time?” Jake glanced over his shoulder at the cock hanging on the wall.

The clock, Tyler thought. Not the cock, the clock. Get your mind out of the gutter.

The past six months knowing Jake had been a pleasure. Learning, about six weeks ago, that Jake was gay had just been icing on the cake.

Jake said, “I guess time got away from me.” He walked over to his shower shoes and put them on. “I’ll meet you out front? I need to towel off and get dressed.”

Can I come with you? Tyler swallowed the words. Jake had been walking a very fine line since coming out to Tyler, never being suggestive in his speech or actions. But he was too friendly to tell Tyler he didn’t want him. Or maybe that was just Tyler’s impression. Maybe Jake was one of those weird people who believed it was okay to be gay but wrong to act on it.

Tyler was Christian. Jake wasn’t. At least Tyler didn’t think he was because he didn’t go to Tyler’s church, and he didn’t seem to attend any of the others in Marisburg or Colton.

“I’ll meet you out in the main lobby,” he told Jake now. “We’ve got a little over forty minutes to get there, so there’s not too much of a rush.”

“I’ll probably shower if I have time. There’s nothing more offensive to some people than smelling like chlorine.” Jake flashed him another killer smile, complete with a dimple. “I’ll be out soon.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male, female/female, and transgender romance. She has been writing since 2011 and has dedicated her career to two universes: SearchLight and Sticks and Stones. SearchLight is all about magical creatures finding their HEA, and Sticks and Stones finds happily-ever-afters for her contemporary characters. Sticks and Stones tends to happen in small towns, whereas SearchLight happens all up and down the East Coast and across the United States.