Summary:
Yani Nicolaou is sworn off love for good. After fleeing a bad break-up in London, the only blood, sweat, and tears he has left are for his gyro stall at the Christmas market. Rebound fling? No thanks. He’s sticking to one-night-stands.
Ex-army vet Gavin Richie has even less capacity for romance. Managing a homeless shelter while recovering from injury keeps him far too busy. So what if he’s often alone? He’s content being single, or so he thinks until a chance meeting lights a spark he can’t ignore.
Yani is the warmth and affection Gavin hadn’t known he was missing. As Christmas lights up the city, their lives entwine in more ways than one. Falling for each other is easy. Holding on is harder, unless a hometown Christmas proves their love can last longer than the festive season.
Can a holiday spark stay ignited beyond the holiday season? I guess that depends on the characters but in Hometown Christmas I hoped it would from Yanni and Gavin's first meeting. Holiday stories rarely end in any way other than HEA but as in life, the journey getting to the HEA is where, what I like to call the meat & potatoes of the story is. Sometimes we don't really know what we're missing until it comes knocking on our door. A realistically beautiful tale of the holiday season and the magic it can bring to our hearts. Another holiday gem to add to my library
Blogger Note: Now I've featured Garrett Leigh's work on my blog many times but I've never read any though quite a few are on my TBR list, after sneaking a peak at a handful of reviews prior to sitting down to write this it looks like Gavin has appeared in at least two of the author's works before. There's no series link between the books mentioned and I never felt like anything was missing from his character so I'm guessing he is a secondary character in those books.
RATING:
Summary:
Special Delivery #2.5
Know when to up the ante…and when to fold.
Randy and Ethan are ready to enjoy their first Christmas in Vegas, but Ethan is still struggling to find his feet as the owner of the casino. He’s stuck in the office while Randy’s ex Crabtree enjoys Ethan’s husband’s holiday antics. When it’s clear Ethan feels left out in the cold, Crabtree tries to mend fences by suggesting Ethan make Randy’s fun and games a main event at the casino instead of a backroom sideshow. This way Ethan can have his cake and eat it too, especially since Randy’s the one jumping out of the center.
Randy knows Crabtree’s motives are never entirely pure and that the gangster can easily twist Ethan’s thinking. Playing naughty elf isn’t worth it if it’ll cost him his cozy holiday with his husband, and as The Twelve Days of Randy spin slowly out of control, Randy fears his perfect Christmas will come crashing down around him. It’s going to take a Christmas miracle to untangle this mess.
Luckily, miracles are Herod’s specialty.
Summary:
The Christmas Angel #3
Vaudeville stage magician Christopher Fiend lives for the spotlight. His chance at big time stardom awaits him in Chicago, the next stop on the circuit after the little town of Twelfth Junction.
Edward Smith wants nothing to do with his family's theater. Until Christopher catches his eye on opening night, then treats him to a very special performance during intermission.
When a dead body turns up in the middle of Christopher’s act, suspicion immediately falls on him. If Christopher and Edward can’t work together to clear his name, Christopher won’t make it to Chicago in time. Edward knows he shouldn’t get attached to a man who will be gone in two days, but his heart—and a very special angel—have other ideas.
The Christmas Angel series of holiday romances follow the travels of an angel ornament through the decades as she inspires (and sometimes nudges) lonely men to find their Happily Ever After. The Magician’s Angel is the third in series, which can be read in any order.
The Christmas Angel Series
In 1750, a master woodcarver poured all his unrequited love, passion, and longing into his masterpiece—a gorgeous Christmas angel for his beloved’s tree. When the man he loved tossed the angel away without a second thought, a miracle happened. The angel was found by another who brought the woodcarver True Love.
Since then, the angel has been passed down, sold, lost and found, but its magic remains. Read the romances inspired by (and perhaps nudged along by) the Christmas angel through the years. Whether it’s 1700s England (Eli Easton's Christmas Angel), the 1880’s New York (Kim Fielding’s Summerfield’s Angel), the turn-of-the-century (Jordan L. Hawk’s Magician’s Angel), World War II (L.A. Witt’s Christmas Homecoming), Vietnam-era (N.R. Walker’s Soldier’s Wish), the 1990’s (Anyta Sunday’s Shrewd Angel), or 2018 (RJ Scott’s Christmas Prince), the Christmas angel has a way of landing on the trees of lonely men who need its blessing for a very Merry Christmas and forever HEA.
Christopher Fiend's next stop after Twelfth Junction could be the one that makes or breaks his career, too bad a body turns up that might not let him leave Twelfth Junction in time to make Chicago. Edward Smith grew up around the theater his dad owned and now his brother is trying to make it survive. A green carnation and a cleverly slipped card leads to a backstage bit of fun but shortly thereafter a body turns up in the act of the wearer of the carnation. Will Christopher and Edward have more than the backstage fumble or has the body on stage put an end to it? Will the Christmas Angel bring two more together or has murder put an end to her record of matchmaking?
Another winner in the multi-author The Christmas Angel series. A spot of murder to brighten up one's holiday is always a blessing in my book. There comes a point where you can only take so much sweetness without the sour. Don't get me wrong, Magician's Christmas has loads of holiday sweet within the pages but Jordan L Hawk has sprinkled in just the right amount of mystery and mayhem to give this entry an extra splash of awesomeness.
Once again, I wonder how the Christmas Angel went from one era to the next but that in itself adds a recurring flavor of holiday magic that doesn't need to be answered to be enjoyed. Jordan L Hawk has a history of using real magic to further a story along but this time around its slight-of-hand pure theater magic that is involved but as we see even the vaudeville kind can be a life saver too.
Magician's Christmas is a lovely blend of historical accuracy, murder, heat, and heart to make this romantic mystery novella one of the best I've read this holiday season. I don't imagine we will see Christopher Fiend and Edward Smith again but if the author ever felt the pull to write more of them, I know I for one would be first in line to gobble it up.
I should add that Jordan's entry in this series is third but can be read as a standalone. I myself have read this series out of order, not something I often do but in this series it is doable. However, I do personally recommend reading Eli Easton's Christmas Angel first as you learn the how and why the ornament came to be and as I have said in my other reviews so far of this series, not knowing her origin would probably leave me a bit distracted from completely enjoying each subsequent entry no matter what order I read them. But that is just my personal preference.
RATING:
Summary:
Ice and Snow Christmas #4
35. Newly divorced. Single dad.
Jack Reynolds never thought he’d be wading back into the dating pool at this point in his life.
To brave the singles scene, Jack decides he needs to lose his dad bod in favor of something a little more cut.
And getting back into shape is a lot easier with the help of his new friend, Corbin Barnes.
But then, Corbin just has a way of making everything easier and fun.
Even with his family drama, Corbin keeps Jack laughing with his amazing sense of humor and those sexy smiles.
Whoa…wait a minute! Sexy smiles?
Yeah, Jack can’t deny it. Corbin is a very sexy man.
Jack treasures his friendship with Corbin, but is he willing to risk it to take a chance on something that could everything he dreamed of…with a guy?
A very sexy, sweet, younger guy.
Jack might need a little Christmas magic to figure this one out and still get his happily ever after.
Defrosting Jack is a standalone MM holiday novella that has two cute kids, a meddling younger brother, a disapproving father, a sexy nun, a sprinkling of Christmas magic, and dirty fun with dessert.
Summary:
Texas #5
Six men with lives linked to the Double D... Danger comes to the Double D from Liam's past and threatens everything Jack and Riley hold dear.
Centering on Jack and Riley, parents, lovers and friends.
Eli and Robbie have their home on Double D land. Their love is rooted in the Texas soil and they weather as many storms as can be thrown at them.
And Liam, a young man with a head full of dreams and sleep full of nightmares, finds that all things are possible when Marcus decides to interrupt his solitary existence.
As I've said many times before, RJ Scott's Texas series was the first published M/M genre book that I read so they will always hold a place of pride in my heart. No matter how many times I read or listen to the journey Jack and Riley Campbell-Hayes, their friends and family take I never tire of it. The characters and the paths they take are so real, so honest, the good and the bad, the heartache and the healing, it never fails to put a smile on face.
As for the audio versions, I can't imagine anyone other than Sean Crisden bringing these stories to life. Sean's voice make Jack, Riley, and the whole Texas family(which grows with each entry because its not just blood that connects everyone) real. Honestly I felt as if I looked up I'd see Jack with Solo Cal out in the yard or Riley on the floor with his maps.
If you haven't read/listened to Texas before I highly recommend giving it a go but it is a series needed to be experienced in order. I warn you though Jack and Riley can be addictive, you'll never want to say goodbye and now thanks to audio you really don't have to😉😉.
2nd Re-Read 2016:
Yet another one that is superb beyond imagine. Every one just meshes together so well and the addition of Liam and his relationship with Marcus adds perfectly to the Double D. Even though Marcus seems a little out of place on the ranch his feelings for Liam really help him begin to settle in too.
Original Review 2014:
Another great entry in the tales of the Campbell-Hayes family, and yes, everyone who seems to come to the Double D works their way into the family network, blood or not. In this installment we get to see Jack and Riley adjust to the addition of Max to their family. I loved the way Liam's story is brought to us intermingled with his new found relationship with Marcus. It's not overdone and yet you feel every emotion that he goes through, good and bad. With the support of those around him, Liam learns to accept what happened to him and that he's worth the respect, responsibilities, and the love that he's being shown.
RATING:
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Random Tales of Christmas 2019
The 12 Days of Randy by Heidi Cullinan
Chapter One
One Saturday November morning as Randy and Ethan lay spooned sleepily together in bed, their cats curled up at their feet, Ethan asked, “What are we going to do for Christmas?”
Randy had been drifting back into unconsciousness, but at Ethan’s question he opened his eyes. He’d have been safe if he’d been behind his husband, but wrapped up tight, his head pillowed on Ethan’s arm, his legs tangled and naked, he was exposed. Especially when, at Randy’s silence, Ethan lifted his head.
Ethan sighed. “Wait, don’t tell me you hate Christmas.”
Randy glared at him. “Excuse me?”
“I saw the expression on your face. You were panicking. Guarding against letting me see your reaction too.”
Randy pulled a pillow over his head. “I should never have taught you to play poker.”
Ethan drew the pillow off again. “I’m serious. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, but I’d like to do something.”
“This is Vegas at Christmas. There will be ‘something’ everywhere you look.”
Ethan frowned. “I hadn’t thought casinos would do anything.”
Randy regarded him dubiously, then realized Ethan wouldn’t know. The two of them had only been together for a year, and last Christmas they’d been in the Caribbean on a private island for their honeymoon: a wedding and Christmas present from Crabtree. “Wait until you see what your casino does for the holiday. I hear last year they had quite the fun decorating your golden demon statue.” He glanced at his husband. “Unless you’re going to stop them from celebrating, but I advise against that. You saw how much money this season made you last year.”
“Of course I’m not going to tell them to stop. I’m delighted to hear Herod’s has a history of celebration, and yes, I’ll have Sarah put in a call to Caryle right away about upping the ante on the way we put on the dog.” Ethan ran a finger down Randy’s nose. “I’m not talking about Christmas at the casino, though. I’m talking about celebrating just you and me. The two of us here. I’d like to at least have a tree. Maybe we could have some people over for a small party.”
This sobered Randy. “Do not tell me you want to have your parents down.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow at him. “You think they would come? They were sure I’d gone to the devil before when I was just entertaining a married man on the occasional weekend. Now that I’m married myself—”
“—domestically partnered,” Randy interjected automatically.
“—married to a man and running a casino in Sin City, all they’ll do is pray for me.”
Randy relaxed. He’d met the Ellisons once last summer, when they’d gone to collect the last of Ethan’s things from Utah. It hadn’t exactly been a pleasant experience. He propped himself up on the pillows and turned to face his partner. “Who do you want to have over, then? People from the casino?”
“Well…I was hoping maybe Sam and Mitch. Crabtree if you think we must, but I wouldn’t mind leaving him out.”
“Ah.” Randy’s smile was wry. “You can try to invite the Tedsoe-Kellers, but likely they won’t come. Sam has this thing about wanting to be cold at Christmas.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing them for the holiday. Maybe we could go to Iowa? But no, they’re not in Iowa right now. Where are they? Illinois?”
“Wisconsin.” Randy patted Ethan’s leg. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll do something here.”
“We can just put up a little tree. I don’t mean to make a fuss if it’s going to bother you— Ow.” Ethan rubbed his leg where Randy had pinched him. “Why did you do that?”
Randy shoved the covers back, untangled himself, and climbed out of bed. “Would you mind starting coffee? I’m going to take a shower.”
Ethan called his name, but Randy didn’t answer, only double-timed it to the bathroom. He kept an eye on the door as he undressed, half-assuming Ethan would come bursting in and insist on continuing the conversation, but he didn’t.
Randy wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
For a long time, Randy stood under the spray, head bowed, staring at the tile above the hot and cold knobs and the faucet. He wondered if he should tell Ethan the truth. Well, no, he didn’t really wonder. He knew he needed to let his husband know he’d read the situation wrong and this had all been a misunderstanding, this idea that Randy didn’t care for Christmas, but he didn’t want to do that. Not yet.
Maybe it was because Ethan had brought up Sam and Mitch. In the past Randy had spent the holiday with them. Granted, he was often busy trying not to let them know how jealous he was of their relationship, but he’d enjoyed those holidays. They were golden times in his mind.
How was he supposed to explain to Slick he didn’t know how to make sure their first Christmas together at home was just as great as those times with his friends, preferably greater?
They hadn’t been able to test run things the year before, because they hadn’t been home. First there had been the domestic partnership ceremony, which Crabtree and Sam had insisted should be a big deal, but mostly it was rushed and insane. One second Ethan was rolling wedding rings onto the craps table, and before Randy could take a breath, he was lying naked on a white sand beach, his whole body throbbing from fantastic honeymoon sex. And rum. So much fucking rum.
If they’d been home for Christmas last year, they could have gotten over the awkward first-Christmas thing then. Which, maybe—probably—Randy was making too much out of this, and he shouldn’t feel pressured about their first Christmas together being so great.
Except all his instincts told him Ethan was going to try, and sure as shooting those attempts would backfire. The problem was they were both working, particularly Ethan, who was still feeling his way around running a casino in general and had the added burden of making a small outfit function in a flagging economy against a sea of giants.
Additionally the two of them weren’t in that shiny new relationship stage any longer, high on the thrill of being two men in love. They’d always fought with each other, but now their scuffles were over who had scooped the cat litter and whether or not Ethan was eating dinner at the casino too often. They were small, irrelevant arguments in the big picture, but they added up like grit in the gears, and Randy worried how they would whip up a fancy Christmas together in the middle of all the other hectic whatevers.
There was a third liability lingering in the air, and it was in Randy’s mind the most important. Crabtree.
Crabtree was, to put it quaintly, Herod’s resident gangster, a dinosaur leftover from when the place had been owned and operated by the Chicago Outfit. It wasn’t any longer—Ethan had the deed fair and square—but Crabtree liked to stick his nose into everything and make sure things were being “done right” and that Billy Herod, the former owner and his deceased lover, would approve of the decisions Ethan was making. Because Randy had played around a bit with Crabtree in the past, Crabtree also felt he had the right to butt in to Randy and Ethan’s marriage and tell them how he thought things were going and what they could do differently.
Crabtree would definitely get in the way of Ethan and Randy having any kind of a cozy Christmas together.
Randy wasn’t sure why he cared so much about this, either. He should go with the flow of whatever festival preparations happened at the casino, let Slick put up his baby tree and have his tiny party, and not expect miracles to happen. No question, he was overthinking this and making it more complicated than it needed to be.
Trouble was, though he could acknowledge the truth of that statement, it didn’t mean he could stop wishing for something more or worrying that no matter what, this was going to end up being a mess and a headache.
Sighing, Randy shut off the shower, threw back the curtain, and swiped a towel. Once dry, he wrapped the terrycloth around his waist and peered tentatively into the hall, but it was empty, and he could hear Ethan bustling around in the kitchen. By the time he climbed into jeans and a T-shirt and followed the smell of coffee, Ethan was at the table with his laptop open, scrolling through spreadsheets and making notes on his steno pad beside his coffee cup. He glanced up and smiled at Randy, but he made no further comment about Christmas.
It was probably for the best, Randy told himself as he grabbed his own mug out of the cupboard. Still, he found himself leaning against the counter for a long time, trying to decide how to restart the discussion before he eventually gave up and went to gather up the laundry.
Ethan’s first clue that he’d read Randy’s opinion of Christmas incorrectly came when Sarah brought him the file of past Christmas party expenditures he’d asked for during a dealer’s meeting. She said nothing, only placed the file on his desk, but the file’s label was clearly visible, and when they saw it, everyone in the room burst into explosions of excitement.
Texas Christmas by RJ Scott
Chapter 4
As soon as Marcus was out of sight of Jack and Riley, he stopped and smacked a hand to his forehead. What the hell did he just say? That he was in the area? They could probably see right through him. What must they think of him and his stupid teenage crush he had going on. He couldn’t help it, he was a man addicted to Liam’s smiles. Something about the young guy set off a million warning bells inside Marcus’s head. Too young, eight years younger than him, too emotional, too scared. Yet, when it came down to it, Marcus wanted to get to know Liam in ways not altogether innocent.
He found Robbie first, who, with his back to Marcus, was fiddling with a tap in the wall to the horse barn.
“Hi,” Marcus said and smiled back at Robbie when he grinned up at him.
“In the barn,” Robbie said by way of explanation. Marcus dipped his head in acknowledgment of the suggestion and the element of teasing.
He walked into the cool of the barn and the scents of horses assailed him. He inhaled—his rationale for getting a lung full of the smell would be that he wouldn’t then spend the next hour gagging whenever he caught a whiff of horse shit and hay. He waited until his eyes became accustomed to the gloom, then casually walked past each stall until finally he found Liam shoveling in one of the last stalls. For a second he stood and watched.
Liam was taller than his own five eight, but then most men were, he was used to that. He was probably just short of six foot but skinny with it. In the weeks since he’d first seen Liam, Marcus had noticed that Liam had filled out a little, but the man still needed to pull his belt tight to keep his pants in place on narrow hips. His back was kinda broad and the muscles in his arms bunched and released as he shoveled and dumped, then shoveled and dumped again. His dark hair was ruthlessly short, and sweat made his skin glisten even in this softly lit space.
Marcus hooked one foot on the lower rung of the stall gate and leaned over it. “Hey, cowboy.”
Liam yelped and turned so suddenly that shit flew off his shovel and missed Marcus by inches.
“Shit!” Liam exclaimed. He pressed a hand to his chest. “What the fuck?” he cursed. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Marcus said nothing, simply waited until the initial shock died down. There had been real fear in Liam’s expression, and he wanted to let Liam deal with that before they moved on to the general talking part of this meeting.
“What do you want?” Liam finally asked. His tone was quick and impatient. “I’m busy.”
“I was just driving by,” Marcus begun.
“The hell you were,” Liam snapped. “You live hell knows how far that way.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the city and beyond where Marcus lived. He turned back to the pile of shit and hay and who knew what else. All of it needed moving to the barrow next to him that was nearly half full.
“You can keep working,” Marcus said. He was trying to be helpful but knew he’d failed in that when Liam frowned at him.
“And you’re gonna do what? Stand there and stare at me?”
“Can I help it if I like what I see?”
Liam very deliberately hooked a pile of mess onto his shovel and hefted it into the waiting barrow. Marcus grinned at the combined sensations of sight of the muscles and the fact that Liam thought turning his back was going to work. They stood this way for a good ten minutes, and Marcus watched every move until finally he couldn’t really justify standing and staring any more.
“Dinner?” he asked.
Liam didn’t hesitate with his answer. “No.”
“One day you’ll say yes.”
Liam muttered a reply. “When hell freezes over.”
“See you soon,” Marcus added cheerily.
“Not if I see you first,” Liam snapped. He stood up and suddenly Marcus was near enough to kiss Liam. They stood so close that it would only take one movement from either of them and they would be kissing the hell out of each other. Marcus wasn’t sure who moved first but assumed they both leaned in. No hands but lips crashed and tongues tasted. There was nothing soft about the kiss, and it ended as soon as it began.
Liam stepped back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What the fuck.”
Guilt consumed Marcus. He’d just gone into Liam’s personal space and near forced a kiss on the guy. No wonder Liam looked so shell-shocked.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted… Will you come to dinner… I want to talk…”
“No.”
Seemed like that was Liam’s last word, and Marcus left the barn. When he was out of sight he stopped for a moment and lifted his face to the fall sun. He shouldn’t be riding Liam so hard, but there was something there, an indefinable attraction that flooded him whenever he saw Liam. Attraction definitely, lust, a little smatter of affection. There was pain in Liam’s expression and the heat of anger in his beautiful gray eyes, and Marcus wanted to know more.
“You okay?”
Marcus focused on the voice, then looked up at Robbie astride a big brown horse. Way up.
“Just talking,” Marcus explained.
“You harassing my staff?” Robbie asked quietly.
“Asking him out for dinner.”
“How many times is that?”
“I lost count at five.”
“Seems to me you’re likely moving into being a nuisance,” Robbie said without heat. He slid down from the back of the horse in a smooth movement. Marcus appreciated that he didn’t have to tilt his head back to actually see Robbie’s expression. Robbie wasn’t holding back even if he worked here and Marcus was Jack and Riley’s friend. A large part of him, the part that both lusted after Liam and cared for the young man, liked that Robbie had his eye on Liam.
Marcus shrugged. “He hasn’t punched me yet.”
“If he does it will be your own fault.”
“Duly noted.”
Robbie stood silently for a moment. “You remind me of Eli,” he said finally. Then he moved away and Marcus was left wondering what that meant. He liked Eli, although they hadn’t really sat and talked. Eli came from old money like Marcus, but that is where the similarity ended. Maybe Robbie meant the persistence thing. After climbing back into his car, he left the D and was back in the city before he realized it. Marcie met him at the door with a wide grin on her face.
“The McDonalds are pregnant,” she exclaimed.
His sister was as involved in the surrogates and the intended parents as much as he was, and he returned her grin before grabbing her and hugging her close. The McDonalds had been trying with their surrogate for over a year, and to finally hear a success was at hand was the best news of the day.
He followed Marcie up the stairs to their private apartments and listened as she chatted on about HCG levels and expectant dates. He wasn’t entirely focused on his sister when his brain was still using so much processing power on considering how to get Liam to go to dinner with him.
“Earth to Marcus.”
Marcus blinked as something passed in front of his face, and he realized it was Marcie waving a hand to snap him out of his thoughts.
“Sorry.”
“Thinking about Liam again?” she asked with a smirk.
Marcus groaned. God help brothers who had sisters as uncannily observant as he did. Two bottles of red and he’d spilled the whole sorry mess to Marcie a few weeks back. He couldn’t recall exactly what he had said to her but seemed it was enough for her to have teasing material to work with on a daily basis.
“Yeah,” he admitted with a sigh. “I was out at the D.”
“You have it so bad,” Marcie commented. She pulled out a tray of lasagna from the fridge sniffed it and grimaced. “We’re eating out. Then you can tell me all about Liam and his hair and his eyes and his body and the fact that all you want is to love him and feed him and call him squishy.”
“I hate you,” Marcus said dryly.
Marcie blew him a kiss. “No you don’t.”
“I do.”
“Not even for a second,” she laughed. “I’ll get my jacket and we’ll go for Italian.”
Marcus waited by the door and pulled out his cell. He had Liam’s number only because Liam had finally given in and let him have it.
Dinner? he texted.
The answer was immediate. No.
Marcus smiled at the answer. One day Liam would give in and type yes.
Chapter One
One Saturday November morning as Randy and Ethan lay spooned sleepily together in bed, their cats curled up at their feet, Ethan asked, “What are we going to do for Christmas?”
Randy had been drifting back into unconsciousness, but at Ethan’s question he opened his eyes. He’d have been safe if he’d been behind his husband, but wrapped up tight, his head pillowed on Ethan’s arm, his legs tangled and naked, he was exposed. Especially when, at Randy’s silence, Ethan lifted his head.
Ethan sighed. “Wait, don’t tell me you hate Christmas.”
Randy glared at him. “Excuse me?”
“I saw the expression on your face. You were panicking. Guarding against letting me see your reaction too.”
Randy pulled a pillow over his head. “I should never have taught you to play poker.”
Ethan drew the pillow off again. “I’m serious. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, but I’d like to do something.”
“This is Vegas at Christmas. There will be ‘something’ everywhere you look.”
Ethan frowned. “I hadn’t thought casinos would do anything.”
Randy regarded him dubiously, then realized Ethan wouldn’t know. The two of them had only been together for a year, and last Christmas they’d been in the Caribbean on a private island for their honeymoon: a wedding and Christmas present from Crabtree. “Wait until you see what your casino does for the holiday. I hear last year they had quite the fun decorating your golden demon statue.” He glanced at his husband. “Unless you’re going to stop them from celebrating, but I advise against that. You saw how much money this season made you last year.”
“Of course I’m not going to tell them to stop. I’m delighted to hear Herod’s has a history of celebration, and yes, I’ll have Sarah put in a call to Caryle right away about upping the ante on the way we put on the dog.” Ethan ran a finger down Randy’s nose. “I’m not talking about Christmas at the casino, though. I’m talking about celebrating just you and me. The two of us here. I’d like to at least have a tree. Maybe we could have some people over for a small party.”
This sobered Randy. “Do not tell me you want to have your parents down.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow at him. “You think they would come? They were sure I’d gone to the devil before when I was just entertaining a married man on the occasional weekend. Now that I’m married myself—”
“—domestically partnered,” Randy interjected automatically.
“—married to a man and running a casino in Sin City, all they’ll do is pray for me.”
Randy relaxed. He’d met the Ellisons once last summer, when they’d gone to collect the last of Ethan’s things from Utah. It hadn’t exactly been a pleasant experience. He propped himself up on the pillows and turned to face his partner. “Who do you want to have over, then? People from the casino?”
“Well…I was hoping maybe Sam and Mitch. Crabtree if you think we must, but I wouldn’t mind leaving him out.”
“Ah.” Randy’s smile was wry. “You can try to invite the Tedsoe-Kellers, but likely they won’t come. Sam has this thing about wanting to be cold at Christmas.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing them for the holiday. Maybe we could go to Iowa? But no, they’re not in Iowa right now. Where are they? Illinois?”
“Wisconsin.” Randy patted Ethan’s leg. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll do something here.”
“We can just put up a little tree. I don’t mean to make a fuss if it’s going to bother you— Ow.” Ethan rubbed his leg where Randy had pinched him. “Why did you do that?”
Randy shoved the covers back, untangled himself, and climbed out of bed. “Would you mind starting coffee? I’m going to take a shower.”
Ethan called his name, but Randy didn’t answer, only double-timed it to the bathroom. He kept an eye on the door as he undressed, half-assuming Ethan would come bursting in and insist on continuing the conversation, but he didn’t.
Randy wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
For a long time, Randy stood under the spray, head bowed, staring at the tile above the hot and cold knobs and the faucet. He wondered if he should tell Ethan the truth. Well, no, he didn’t really wonder. He knew he needed to let his husband know he’d read the situation wrong and this had all been a misunderstanding, this idea that Randy didn’t care for Christmas, but he didn’t want to do that. Not yet.
Maybe it was because Ethan had brought up Sam and Mitch. In the past Randy had spent the holiday with them. Granted, he was often busy trying not to let them know how jealous he was of their relationship, but he’d enjoyed those holidays. They were golden times in his mind.
How was he supposed to explain to Slick he didn’t know how to make sure their first Christmas together at home was just as great as those times with his friends, preferably greater?
They hadn’t been able to test run things the year before, because they hadn’t been home. First there had been the domestic partnership ceremony, which Crabtree and Sam had insisted should be a big deal, but mostly it was rushed and insane. One second Ethan was rolling wedding rings onto the craps table, and before Randy could take a breath, he was lying naked on a white sand beach, his whole body throbbing from fantastic honeymoon sex. And rum. So much fucking rum.
If they’d been home for Christmas last year, they could have gotten over the awkward first-Christmas thing then. Which, maybe—probably—Randy was making too much out of this, and he shouldn’t feel pressured about their first Christmas together being so great.
Except all his instincts told him Ethan was going to try, and sure as shooting those attempts would backfire. The problem was they were both working, particularly Ethan, who was still feeling his way around running a casino in general and had the added burden of making a small outfit function in a flagging economy against a sea of giants.
Additionally the two of them weren’t in that shiny new relationship stage any longer, high on the thrill of being two men in love. They’d always fought with each other, but now their scuffles were over who had scooped the cat litter and whether or not Ethan was eating dinner at the casino too often. They were small, irrelevant arguments in the big picture, but they added up like grit in the gears, and Randy worried how they would whip up a fancy Christmas together in the middle of all the other hectic whatevers.
There was a third liability lingering in the air, and it was in Randy’s mind the most important. Crabtree.
Crabtree was, to put it quaintly, Herod’s resident gangster, a dinosaur leftover from when the place had been owned and operated by the Chicago Outfit. It wasn’t any longer—Ethan had the deed fair and square—but Crabtree liked to stick his nose into everything and make sure things were being “done right” and that Billy Herod, the former owner and his deceased lover, would approve of the decisions Ethan was making. Because Randy had played around a bit with Crabtree in the past, Crabtree also felt he had the right to butt in to Randy and Ethan’s marriage and tell them how he thought things were going and what they could do differently.
Crabtree would definitely get in the way of Ethan and Randy having any kind of a cozy Christmas together.
Randy wasn’t sure why he cared so much about this, either. He should go with the flow of whatever festival preparations happened at the casino, let Slick put up his baby tree and have his tiny party, and not expect miracles to happen. No question, he was overthinking this and making it more complicated than it needed to be.
Trouble was, though he could acknowledge the truth of that statement, it didn’t mean he could stop wishing for something more or worrying that no matter what, this was going to end up being a mess and a headache.
Sighing, Randy shut off the shower, threw back the curtain, and swiped a towel. Once dry, he wrapped the terrycloth around his waist and peered tentatively into the hall, but it was empty, and he could hear Ethan bustling around in the kitchen. By the time he climbed into jeans and a T-shirt and followed the smell of coffee, Ethan was at the table with his laptop open, scrolling through spreadsheets and making notes on his steno pad beside his coffee cup. He glanced up and smiled at Randy, but he made no further comment about Christmas.
It was probably for the best, Randy told himself as he grabbed his own mug out of the cupboard. Still, he found himself leaning against the counter for a long time, trying to decide how to restart the discussion before he eventually gave up and went to gather up the laundry.
######
Ethan’s first clue that he’d read Randy’s opinion of Christmas incorrectly came when Sarah brought him the file of past Christmas party expenditures he’d asked for during a dealer’s meeting. She said nothing, only placed the file on his desk, but the file’s label was clearly visible, and when they saw it, everyone in the room burst into explosions of excitement.
“The Christmas Eve party! Oh my God, I can’t wait,” a female blackjack dealer exclaimed. “Especially because Randy’s back this year.”
“They’ve been planning since July this time, I heard. It’s going to be big.”
Ethan’s head whipped around at that. “Who has been planning?” Why in the world didn’t he know about it?
“The staff party committee, obviously.”
Ethan had no idea such a committee existed. He felt ridiculous.
“I heard stories of the 2008 party,” a male dealer said, his grin tipping sideways and his voice full of innuendo.
“About the cake?” another woman said, looking eager. “God, I wish I could have seen that.”
“I heard they had him spread out on the table after he came out of the top, and fifteen different people licked frosting off him.”
“Yeah, and that Crabtree took care of the crotch and ass areas personally. In his office. For an hour.”
A few people glanced nervously at Ethan, who as usual went still at the mention of Randy and Crabtree together, but apparently this story was so good even the boss’s displeasure couldn’t stop the retelling.
Except for a handful of years when he’d been away, it seemed Randy was the star of the casino’s private holiday party. There were stories of how he’d appeared in a Santa costume one year and given “treats” to all the partygoers, ranging from kisses to back rubs and in the case of a particularly drunk manager who didn’t work at Herod’s any longer, a hand job in the bathroom. Another time Randy had been the dealer in a poker tournament where the winner won him as a personal chef and shopping assistant for twenty-four hours. That had been the first year he’d worked at Herod’s. Crabtree had won the tournament, and their casual affair had begun during Randy’s term of service.
It annoyed Ethan how frequently stories of Randy and sexual escapades always seemed to include Crabtree.
Ethan went home from work that night with his ears still ringing with tales of his husband’s Christmas-themed exploits, only to find the star of the stories flipping through the pages of a well-worn red-covered cookbook. At Ethan’s entrance, Randy closed it and shoved it casually aside with a smile.
“Hey, baby.” Randy’s smile faded. “Fuck. What’d I do now?”
Ethan shrugged and headed to the fridge. “Nothing.”
He had the door open for all of two seconds before Randy was between him and the appliance. “Spill it, Slick. I’m not in the mood to dance around. Tell me.”
This just made it worse, because of course Randy hadn’t done anything wrong. Ethan was not going to have the I-know-I-don’t-have-to-be-jealous-of-Crabtree-but-I-still-am discussion. He sighed and braced his palms against the counter ledge as he stared down at the tile.
“You didn’t do anything, and I’m not angry. I just heard some stories about your Christmas party exploits, is all.”
Randy murmured under his breath and turned, opening the fridge door at the same time. When he shut it, he had a lime and tonic water in his hand, and he grabbed two tumblers from the cupboard. “They’re going to be disappointed, because I already told Sarah I’m not doing any stunts.” He slid Ethan’s drink toward him and reached for his Jamesons and Baileys from the other side of the liquor cupboard.
Ethan didn’t pick up his drink. “Why not?”
“Why not? Because of this reaction you’re having right here.” When Ethan began to object, Randy waved him silent and spoke over the top of him. “Yes, yes. You’re not angry. You look jealous as hell and uneasy for no reason whatsoever.”
“I’ll get over it.” Ethan picked up his gin and tonic but didn’t drink it, only stared into it. “I felt ridiculous, hearing them carry on about what a good time you were, and there I was, your fucking husband, with no idea any of it had happened. I didn’t even know we had a party committee.” He grimaced, then took a generous sip of the drink. “You don’t need to abstain on my account, either. Though if there’s frosting or hand jobs or sexual services, I claim them all now.”
That at least got a smile out of Randy, but it didn’t bleed off much of the tension in his shoulders. Ethan thought he might be about to give one of his speeches about poker or life or how poker was like life, and then his face went completely naked, and Ethan forgot to breathe, because now Randy looked like he might be having one of those rare moments where he told stories about his past.
Instead, he lifted the drink, took a swallow of it that would have burned off the throat of most men, and set it on the counter with a smile.
“Dinner’s tuna and noodles, ready in about an hour. I got distracted and didn’t get started yet. Why don’t you go relax a little bit until it’s ready?”
This was the end of the discussion. Ethan went to change and surf the internet, and when he returned to the kitchen, Randy had laid out a spread of tuna and noodles, steamed broccoli, and baking powder biscuits on their small table.
“Delicious,” Ethan effused around a mouthful of food. “You could be a chef if you wanted, I swear.”
“I thought about it, once upon a time.” Randy tore a biscuit in half and slathered butter into the steaming center. “Crabtree was all set to send me to culinary school and have me study under celebrity chefs working in the city. But I was pretty sure it would make me hate something I loved, so I stuck to prop.” He pursed his lips at the kitchen counter behind him. “I wouldn’t say no to a better workspace someday. But that’s just wishing on a star, really. Wants and needs aren’t the same thing.”
That might be true, but Ethan couldn’t help thinking he was in a position to give Randy what he longed for. He chased a spiral noodle across his plate. “We could move to a house with a better kitchen.”
Randy speared a piece of broccoli with his fork and shrugged. “We could, yes. But you’re always telling me this is a delicate time for finances. You’re not going to risk all that to give me more counter space and a convection oven.”
No, Ethan wasn’t going to do that. He suppressed a sigh and wiped his mouth with his napkin.
He helped Randy do the dishes as usual, but he felt restless and frustrated. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, for Ethan’s sake alone, Randy was saying no to something he normally did and quite possibly wanted to do, and this wasn’t going to take them down a good road. While Randy took his evening bath, Ethan ignored his usual night paperwork and paced the bedroom, trying to find the way to bring the topic of Christmas and the party up again.
However, when Randy came into the bedroom wearing only a towel and a sly smile, Ethan faltered, distracted momentarily by the sexy, near-naked, and damp sight of his husband.
He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his ground. “I want to discuss this Christmas party business further.”
“I don’t.” Randy crouched at the box containing their toys, flipped it open, and emerged with a ball gag and a pair of handcuffs. He dangled them from his finger and waggled his eyebrows as he sidled lazily toward Ethan, thumb of his opposite hand catching at the knot of the towel across his groin, dragging it lower. “I want to play.”
Ethan did his best to ignore the erotic display Randy made of himself, and the devilish promise the clink of those handcuffs whispered in the back of his mind. “This is important.”
“And playing with me isn’t?” Randy closed the distance between them and ran a finger down the center of Ethan’s chest. “Come on, baby. Make me hot and bothered. I can tell you’re frustrated by looking at you, and I want to feel it.” He ran the cool metal against Ethan’s hand, pressing the chain and the rubber of the ball gag into his palm with a wicked smile. “Don’t talk me to tears, Slick. Tease me.”
Ethan hesitated. He had the restraints in his grip, but he also had hold of Randy’s fingers, and he squeezed them as he gazed into his husband’s eyes. “So what, we’re not going to discuss this?”
With a groan, Randy leaned into Ethan and kissed him, lingering with a nip on his bottom lip. “We can talk later. Just fuck me up now, please?”
There probably was a man in the world who could resist that plea, but it wasn’t Ethan Ellison.
Texas Christmas by RJ Scott
Chapter 4
As soon as Marcus was out of sight of Jack and Riley, he stopped and smacked a hand to his forehead. What the hell did he just say? That he was in the area? They could probably see right through him. What must they think of him and his stupid teenage crush he had going on. He couldn’t help it, he was a man addicted to Liam’s smiles. Something about the young guy set off a million warning bells inside Marcus’s head. Too young, eight years younger than him, too emotional, too scared. Yet, when it came down to it, Marcus wanted to get to know Liam in ways not altogether innocent.
He found Robbie first, who, with his back to Marcus, was fiddling with a tap in the wall to the horse barn.
“Hi,” Marcus said and smiled back at Robbie when he grinned up at him.
“In the barn,” Robbie said by way of explanation. Marcus dipped his head in acknowledgment of the suggestion and the element of teasing.
He walked into the cool of the barn and the scents of horses assailed him. He inhaled—his rationale for getting a lung full of the smell would be that he wouldn’t then spend the next hour gagging whenever he caught a whiff of horse shit and hay. He waited until his eyes became accustomed to the gloom, then casually walked past each stall until finally he found Liam shoveling in one of the last stalls. For a second he stood and watched.
Liam was taller than his own five eight, but then most men were, he was used to that. He was probably just short of six foot but skinny with it. In the weeks since he’d first seen Liam, Marcus had noticed that Liam had filled out a little, but the man still needed to pull his belt tight to keep his pants in place on narrow hips. His back was kinda broad and the muscles in his arms bunched and released as he shoveled and dumped, then shoveled and dumped again. His dark hair was ruthlessly short, and sweat made his skin glisten even in this softly lit space.
Marcus hooked one foot on the lower rung of the stall gate and leaned over it. “Hey, cowboy.”
Liam yelped and turned so suddenly that shit flew off his shovel and missed Marcus by inches.
“Shit!” Liam exclaimed. He pressed a hand to his chest. “What the fuck?” he cursed. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Marcus said nothing, simply waited until the initial shock died down. There had been real fear in Liam’s expression, and he wanted to let Liam deal with that before they moved on to the general talking part of this meeting.
“What do you want?” Liam finally asked. His tone was quick and impatient. “I’m busy.”
“I was just driving by,” Marcus begun.
“The hell you were,” Liam snapped. “You live hell knows how far that way.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the city and beyond where Marcus lived. He turned back to the pile of shit and hay and who knew what else. All of it needed moving to the barrow next to him that was nearly half full.
“You can keep working,” Marcus said. He was trying to be helpful but knew he’d failed in that when Liam frowned at him.
“And you’re gonna do what? Stand there and stare at me?”
“Can I help it if I like what I see?”
Liam very deliberately hooked a pile of mess onto his shovel and hefted it into the waiting barrow. Marcus grinned at the combined sensations of sight of the muscles and the fact that Liam thought turning his back was going to work. They stood this way for a good ten minutes, and Marcus watched every move until finally he couldn’t really justify standing and staring any more.
“Dinner?” he asked.
Liam didn’t hesitate with his answer. “No.”
“One day you’ll say yes.”
Liam muttered a reply. “When hell freezes over.”
“See you soon,” Marcus added cheerily.
“Not if I see you first,” Liam snapped. He stood up and suddenly Marcus was near enough to kiss Liam. They stood so close that it would only take one movement from either of them and they would be kissing the hell out of each other. Marcus wasn’t sure who moved first but assumed they both leaned in. No hands but lips crashed and tongues tasted. There was nothing soft about the kiss, and it ended as soon as it began.
Liam stepped back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What the fuck.”
Guilt consumed Marcus. He’d just gone into Liam’s personal space and near forced a kiss on the guy. No wonder Liam looked so shell-shocked.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted… Will you come to dinner… I want to talk…”
“No.”
Seemed like that was Liam’s last word, and Marcus left the barn. When he was out of sight he stopped for a moment and lifted his face to the fall sun. He shouldn’t be riding Liam so hard, but there was something there, an indefinable attraction that flooded him whenever he saw Liam. Attraction definitely, lust, a little smatter of affection. There was pain in Liam’s expression and the heat of anger in his beautiful gray eyes, and Marcus wanted to know more.
“You okay?”
Marcus focused on the voice, then looked up at Robbie astride a big brown horse. Way up.
“Just talking,” Marcus explained.
“You harassing my staff?” Robbie asked quietly.
“Asking him out for dinner.”
“How many times is that?”
“I lost count at five.”
“Seems to me you’re likely moving into being a nuisance,” Robbie said without heat. He slid down from the back of the horse in a smooth movement. Marcus appreciated that he didn’t have to tilt his head back to actually see Robbie’s expression. Robbie wasn’t holding back even if he worked here and Marcus was Jack and Riley’s friend. A large part of him, the part that both lusted after Liam and cared for the young man, liked that Robbie had his eye on Liam.
Marcus shrugged. “He hasn’t punched me yet.”
“If he does it will be your own fault.”
“Duly noted.”
Robbie stood silently for a moment. “You remind me of Eli,” he said finally. Then he moved away and Marcus was left wondering what that meant. He liked Eli, although they hadn’t really sat and talked. Eli came from old money like Marcus, but that is where the similarity ended. Maybe Robbie meant the persistence thing. After climbing back into his car, he left the D and was back in the city before he realized it. Marcie met him at the door with a wide grin on her face.
“The McDonalds are pregnant,” she exclaimed.
His sister was as involved in the surrogates and the intended parents as much as he was, and he returned her grin before grabbing her and hugging her close. The McDonalds had been trying with their surrogate for over a year, and to finally hear a success was at hand was the best news of the day.
He followed Marcie up the stairs to their private apartments and listened as she chatted on about HCG levels and expectant dates. He wasn’t entirely focused on his sister when his brain was still using so much processing power on considering how to get Liam to go to dinner with him.
“Earth to Marcus.”
Marcus blinked as something passed in front of his face, and he realized it was Marcie waving a hand to snap him out of his thoughts.
“Sorry.”
“Thinking about Liam again?” she asked with a smirk.
Marcus groaned. God help brothers who had sisters as uncannily observant as he did. Two bottles of red and he’d spilled the whole sorry mess to Marcie a few weeks back. He couldn’t recall exactly what he had said to her but seemed it was enough for her to have teasing material to work with on a daily basis.
“Yeah,” he admitted with a sigh. “I was out at the D.”
“You have it so bad,” Marcie commented. She pulled out a tray of lasagna from the fridge sniffed it and grimaced. “We’re eating out. Then you can tell me all about Liam and his hair and his eyes and his body and the fact that all you want is to love him and feed him and call him squishy.”
“I hate you,” Marcus said dryly.
Marcie blew him a kiss. “No you don’t.”
“I do.”
“Not even for a second,” she laughed. “I’ll get my jacket and we’ll go for Italian.”
Marcus waited by the door and pulled out his cell. He had Liam’s number only because Liam had finally given in and let him have it.
Dinner? he texted.
The answer was immediate. No.
Marcus smiled at the answer. One day Liam would give in and type yes.
Garrett Leigh is an award-winning British writer and book designer, currently working for Riptide Publishing, and Fox Love Press.
Garrett's debut novel, Slide, won Best Bisexual Debut at the 2014 Rainbow Book Awards, and her polyamorous novel, Misfits was a finalist in the 2016 LAMBDA awards.
When not writing, Garrett can generally be found procrastinating on Twitter, cooking up a storm, or sitting on her behind doing as little as possible, all the while shouting at her menagerie of children and animals and attempting to tame her unruly and wonderful FOX.
Garrett is also an award winning cover artist, taking the silver medal at the Benjamin Franklin Book Awards in 2016. She designs for various publishing houses and independent authors at Black Jazz Design, and co-owns the specialist stock site Moonstock Photography with renowned LGBTQA+ photographer Dan Burgess.
Author of over thirty novels, Midwest-native Heidi Cullinan writes positive-outcome romances for LGBT characters struggling against insurmountable odds because she believes there’s no such thing as too much happy ever after. Heidi is a two-time RITA® finalist and her books have been recommended by Library Journal, USA Today, RT Magazine, and Publisher’s Weekly. When Heidi isn't writing, she enjoys cooking, reading novels and manga, playing with her cats, and watching too much anime.
Jordan L. Hawk is a non-binary queer author from North Carolina. Childhood tales of mountain ghosts and mysterious creatures gave them a life-long love of things that go bump in the night. When they aren’t writing, they brew their own beer and try to keep the cats from destroying the house. Their best-selling Whyborne & Griffin series (beginning with Widdershins) can be found in print, ebook, and audiobook.
It started with a battered notebook. Jocelynn Drake wrote her first story when she was 12 years old. It was a retelling of Robin Hood that now included a kick-ass female who could keep up with all the boys and be more than just a sad little love interest. From there, she explored space, talked to dragons, and fell in love again and again and again.
This former Kentucky girl has moved up, down, and across the U.S. with her patient husband. They’ve settled near the Rockies…for now. She spends the majority of her time lost in the strong embrace of a good book.
When she’s not hammering away at her keyboard or curled up with a book, she can usually be found cuddling with her cat Demona, walking her dog Ace, or flinging curses at the TV while playing a video game. Outside of books, furry babies, and video games, she is completely enamored of Bruce Wayne, Ezio Auditore, travel, tattoos, explosions, and fast cars.
She is the author of the urban fantasy series: The Dark Days series and the Asylum Tales. She has just completed a gay romantic suspense series called The Exit Strategy about two assassins falling in love and trying to create a life together. Her newest project returns to her vampire roots with a new MM paranormal romance series.
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott writes stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, a happily ever after.
RJ Scott is the author of over one hundred romance books, writing emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.
The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.
She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the links below.
Garrett Leigh
GOOGLE PLAY / iTUNES / AUDIBLE
Heidi Cullinan
NEWSLETTER / BLOG / TUMBLR
AUDIBLE / GOOGLE PLAY / B&N
PINTEREST / KOBO / SMASHWORDS
Jordan L Hawk
EMAIL: jordanlhawk@gmail.com
Jocelynn Drake
FACEBOOK / TWITTER / WEBSITE
NEWSLETTER / KOBO / GOOGLE PLAY
PINTEREST / TUMBLR / INSTAGRAM
B&N / iTUNES / AMAZON / GOODREADS
NEWSLETTER / KOBO / GOOGLE PLAY
PINTEREST / TUMBLR / INSTAGRAM
B&N / iTUNES / AMAZON / GOODREADS
EMAIL: jocelynn.drake@gmail.com
RJ Scott
BOOKBUB / KOBO / SMASHWORDS
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk
Sean Crisden(Narrator)
EMAIL: crisden@seancrisden.com
Hometown Christmas by Garrett Leigh
The Twelve Days of Randy by Heidi Cullinan
The Magician's Angel by Jordan L Hawk
B&N / KOBO / SMASHWORDS
Defrosting Jack by Jocelynn Drake
Texas Christmas by RJ Scott
