Summary:
Frankie Faraday is a promising young salesperson at Mason’s Emporium. Bill Mason is his boss, the son of the store’s founder, and the object of Frankie’s long-suffering, deeply devoted crush. Bill is steady and sober; Frankie is frivolous and flaky. Or so they seem to each other, until the night of the annual inventory, when they’re trapped together in the Seasonal Gifts storeroom, with nothing but candy and peppermint schnapps to sustain them until they’re rescued. And then the real truths—and something definitely more intimate—emerge!
A story from the Dreamspinner Press 2017 Advent Calendar "Stocking Stuffers."
The Peppermint Schnapps Predicament may only be a Christmas short story/novella in length but its a full length novel in fun. There's really not a lot I feel like divulging in this review other than it was a lovely and fun read that brightened up my day. Peppermint would make a wonderful romantic comedy holiday film but until that happens, I can't recommend Clare London's boss/employee-opposites attract enough. She takes what could be considered a cliché trope and gives it her extra special sassy spin that will leave you wanting more of Frankie and Bill. Be careful though, you may never look at schnapps or chocolate Santas the same way again😋😉
RATING:
A story from the Dreamspinner Press 2017 Advent Calendar "Stocking Stuffers."
The Peppermint Schnapps Predicament may only be a Christmas short story/novella in length but its a full length novel in fun. There's really not a lot I feel like divulging in this review other than it was a lovely and fun read that brightened up my day. Peppermint would make a wonderful romantic comedy holiday film but until that happens, I can't recommend Clare London's boss/employee-opposites attract enough. She takes what could be considered a cliché trope and gives it her extra special sassy spin that will leave you wanting more of Frankie and Bill. Be careful though, you may never look at schnapps or chocolate Santas the same way again😋😉
RATING:
I GUESS you might say my current predicament is punishment for my sins.
What sins? you ask, amazed that a cute twink like me with such angelic features and a sweet, sunny disposition could be so debauched.
Oh, but I admit it! I throw my hands in the air and proclaim my dissolution. This afternoon, Greed and Lust led me to a moment’s weakness, yet who can blame me? It’s Friday, it’s later than the usual clocking-off time because of the annual inventory at Mason’s Emporium—here in the Seasonal Gifts and Festivities department—and it’s the end of a too-long, loathsome week in retail. Why wouldn’t I look for some distraction and delight to lift my weary spirits?
As usual, my eyes were drawn irresistibly to Bill Mason, manager of SG&F, son of the original founder of the store, and my current supervisor. All hail the Supreme Being of Boy Crushes, who obviously influenced the staff rota on my behalf! Bill Mason, a Channing Tatum lookalike right down to the mischievous smile, and not forgetting to linger on the very finest musculature, all wrapped in an appealing package of checked flannel shirt and ass-hugging jeans. Bill Mason, always strong, steady, and self-disciplined, with a bossy bark to his minions that fair makes my balls clench in ecstatic fright. Bill Mason, working so close to me while we check inventory that I can smell the shampoo he uses—masculine and musky, just like him—and occasionally brush my hand against his brawny body on the pretext of helping carry a box or two. Or four, in his case. Oh, see those biceps strain.
When Bill strode off to the overflow storeroom at the back of the warehouse, I—poor infatuated fool that I am—trotted after him like a sheep, blithely shackled for shearing. I shuffled into the room virtually on his heels, so when he turned to catch the door, I got in his way. Like, right up in his face, much to his righteous shock. By the time we’d done the yelp of surprise from him and the “Sorry! Sorry!” from me, the door had slammed shut behind us.
And now I’m in The Predicament. Just like I said before, although in a rather roundabout way. There’s no door handle on the inside, you see. It fell off last week and Mikey from Maintenance hasn’t gotten around to fixing it yet, with Christmas being our busiest season and all. Besides, everyone in the warehouse knows to keep the door propped open when they use this particular room.
Except me, obviously.
Oh, Mr. Disturbance and Subversion, that’s me.
And looks like I’ve brought Bill Mason down to my level.
Clare took the pen name London from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with her other day job as an accountant.
She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with award-winning novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic and sexy characters.
Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter 3 stage and plenty of other projects in mind . . . she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.
All the details and free fiction are available at her website. Visit her today and say hello!
EMAIL: clarelondon11@yahoo.co.uk
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Many thanks for your time and review :)
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