Summary:
Archie's posh parents want him to meet a nice girl--how can he tell them he's fallen for a bad boy instead?
Closeted, innocent and lonely, Archie Arandale longs for someone special in his life. A Christmas party organised by his wealth management company is the last place he expects to meet the man of his dreams.
With his leather jacket, tattoos, and piercings, Cal Turner turns heads the moment he walks through the door. He definitely isn't looking for a boyfriend, but Archie's hesitant charm captures his attention, and sneaking off during the party to have a little fun can only make a dull evening more interesting.
After their reckless and thrilling encounter, Archie is keen for more experience and Cal is happy to oblige. The need for secrecy means this can only be a casual fling, yet as they spend time together in the run up to Christmas, their feelings become more intense than either of them had bargained for. How can Archie find the courage to tell his family about Cal, when Cal's the exact opposite of the 'nice girl' they've been hoping for?
Contains: A closeted virgin, a tattooed biker, class differences, a dramatic coming out, a very inappropriate Christmas gift, and a happy ending (of course).
It's been a year since I originally discovered A Boyfriend for Christmas and it's as good as I remember. Cal and Archie still tugged at my heart, still made me want to wrap them up in Mama Bear hugs, and still wanted me to smack them a time or two. I've never listened to a book narrated by Hamish Long before but he brought the men to life perfectly, may not have matched the voices I created in my head last year but still a wonderful portrayal. Tie all the words and narration together and you have a book worthy of a great Christmas entertainment experience that will delight story lovers for years to come. I'll admit A Boyfriend for Christmas may not make my yearly re-read/listen list but that's down to the number of waking hours in a year not the loveliness of the story😉😉.
Original review December 2019:
I've only read a few of Jay Northcote's books but every single one that has come to my attention is on my TBR list(I'm sure they'd all be if I went and perused his backlist😉) so when A Boyfriend for Christmas was set to be released I knew it was going on my Xmas TBR list. I wasn't sure it would "make the cut" for this year just because my list pretty much doubles every day so there's just no way I can get through all of them but I'm so glad I decided to read it for this holiday season.
Brilliant. Fun. Sexy. Romantic.
Now is it worthy of what I call the Hallmark-y stamp? No. It is so much better! Romantic comedy with heart but not nearly sugary sweet enough to earn the Hallmark-y stamp. Now that's not a bad thing, oh no! Don't get me wrong I like the sugary sweet holiday stuff but I LOVE the heartwarming rom-com with that something extra special too and A Boyfriend for Christmas has that something extra special in spades!!!!👏👏👏
I personally don't think Cal and Archie are opposite enough to be labeled opposites attract, simply because the person Archie is hiding underneath isn't really that different but he's kind of afraid to let him out, and I don't just mean out of the closet, there's more than just his sexuality he's afraid to unleash on his family. "Unleash"? I make it sound menacing with that word and its not, there's no mayhem in Archie's heart I just think unleash is a good word because he's hidden it for so long.
I don't think I'm going to say too much more because I don't do spoilers and this is definitely a holiday story you need to experience for yourself to get the full effect of Cal and Archie. I will say that there were a few times I wanted to smack them upside the head as only a loving sibling does(I'm an only child but I've seen many a friend whack their brother or sister in the back of the head when the adults weren't watching😉). There were just as many times I wanted to Mama Bear hug them and tell them "You got this".
Definitely a holiday classic in the making.
RATING:
I've only read a few of Jay Northcote's books but every single one that has come to my attention is on my TBR list(I'm sure they'd all be if I went and perused his backlist😉) so when A Boyfriend for Christmas was set to be released I knew it was going on my Xmas TBR list. I wasn't sure it would "make the cut" for this year just because my list pretty much doubles every day so there's just no way I can get through all of them but I'm so glad I decided to read it for this holiday season.
Brilliant. Fun. Sexy. Romantic.
Now is it worthy of what I call the Hallmark-y stamp? No. It is so much better! Romantic comedy with heart but not nearly sugary sweet enough to earn the Hallmark-y stamp. Now that's not a bad thing, oh no! Don't get me wrong I like the sugary sweet holiday stuff but I LOVE the heartwarming rom-com with that something extra special too and A Boyfriend for Christmas has that something extra special in spades!!!!👏👏👏
I personally don't think Cal and Archie are opposite enough to be labeled opposites attract, simply because the person Archie is hiding underneath isn't really that different but he's kind of afraid to let him out, and I don't just mean out of the closet, there's more than just his sexuality he's afraid to unleash on his family. "Unleash"? I make it sound menacing with that word and its not, there's no mayhem in Archie's heart I just think unleash is a good word because he's hidden it for so long.
I don't think I'm going to say too much more because I don't do spoilers and this is definitely a holiday story you need to experience for yourself to get the full effect of Cal and Archie. I will say that there were a few times I wanted to smack them upside the head as only a loving sibling does(I'm an only child but I've seen many a friend whack their brother or sister in the back of the head when the adults weren't watching😉). There were just as many times I wanted to Mama Bear hug them and tell them "You got this".
Definitely a holiday classic in the making.
RATING:
Summary:
Bake Sale Bachelors Season Two #4
Jamison.
An alpha ... a cop ... and a hell of a good baker.
Reece.
New cop at the precinct ... and new omega in town.
But he's trying to keep that part a secret.
Jamison is having a bad day. His new partner, Reece, has been made number one detective on the case they've just been assigned. Not only that but he lost his parking spot when Reece pulled in ahead of him. As far as Jamison is concerned, Reece just seems to be getting ahead of him at every turn. And when Reece shows up to the annual bachelor auction with the exact same cookies, Jamison is livid.
Reece just wants to fit in. He's new in town, he has a new job, and he's hoping to find a new love at the bachelor auction. The trouble is, he can't stop thinking about his new partner, Jamison. But he has to keep his attraction a secret. He doesn't want to rock the boat. He doesn't even want anyone at the precinct to know about his omega status.
Little does Reece know that his choice of cookies ... the double cherry delights that he bakes and brings to the auction ... will cause more waves that he can imagine between he and his new partner.
Double Cherry Delight is an enemies to lovers mpreg story featuring two incredibly hot rival cops who eventually figure out they can't keep their hands off each other. Oh ... and lots of sweets, holiday festivities, and a super cuddly baby.
Summary:
Takoda Outreach Center Prequel
Avi’s life is bright and full of purpose. Since starting the Takoda Soup Kitchen with his two best friends, he’s been able to make a real difference in the community. The only thing he doesn’t have is a man of his own to share his life with.
Zachary has simply been existing, but when he meets the warm, vibrant Avi, he is immediately drawn to him. When he gets an invitation to a family party, Avi agrees to be his fake date and the chemistry between the two men flares.
Could Avi be what Zachary has been missing in his life?
Takoda Outreach Center: Low-angst, sweet stories of finding your happily ever after.
(Note: this was formally published as Heavenly Melody for a multi-author series Snow Globe Christmas)
Summary:
MacIntosh Meadows #4
What do you do when the person you can’t get out of your head is the son of the man who jilted you thirty years ago? Proceed with caution!
When Dr. Joseph Nielson—aka Doc—walked into his exam room, the last thing he expected to find was the spitting image of the fiance who had hurt him so badly that he’d spent the rest of his adult life as a bitter bachelor.
Marion Harris is a twenty-nine year old virgin… who happens to be nine months pregnant, thanks to having agreed to be a surrogate for his best friend. After an unlucky year of sorrow, he’s now alone with a child to raise and nowhere else to go but his father’s hometown of MacIntosh Meadows.
After a not-so-great first impression, the two men keep finding themselves pushed together during the holiday season they both hate by a mischievous family who loves them—the MacIntosh clan. Despite every reason they shouldn’t, neither one can find a good enough reason to fight the matchmaking… or the natural attraction they both feel.
This is the fourth book in this heartwarming series and contains a virgin giving birth in a barn, three wise guys in pajamas, and enough holiday feels to keep you smiling into the new year. Pretty much everything you’d expect from a Susi Hawke book.
Summary:
Lonely Dragons Club #1
Best Surprise Ever: Going out to add to your Christmas hoard and finding your fated mate.
Laszlo
I’ve been longing to find my mate for over a thousand years. When I see him for the first time, he’s standing beneath sparkling glass ornaments, like a present waiting to be unwrapped. A present I intend to lay claim to.
If I can lure him back to my lair, I’ll shower him with so many gifts he’ll never want to leave. Bonded with my mate by Christmas? Yes, please.
Roman
I’m no good at flirting and have terrible luck with men, so when a gorgeous alpha says he wants to take me home, I’m shocked. And wary. My heat is about to start, and I’ve never shared it with anyone, so why do I suddenly want to say yes to this stranger?
There’s something unusual about him, the way his eyes shine, the odd phrases he keeps using. He says he wants to add me to his collection of beautiful things. I should be offended, but instead, I’m intrigued. Just this once, should I take a risk?
The Lonely Dragons Club is an MM dragon shifter mpreg series about finding your one true love.
A Boyfriend for Christmas by Jay Northcote
One
Archie surreptitiously checked his watch. His stomach was rumbling and he was wishing he’d eaten more canapés earlier. Hopefully there would be more food coming once the speeches were over.
Heaven help us. Hugo’s been talking for nearly ten minutes now.
And this was only the engagement party. What on earth would his wedding speech be like?
As Archie glanced around the room, he noticed a few other people starting to look restless, even his father—the Honourable Piers Arandale—had a slightly strained expression as Hugo sucked up shamelessly, banging on about what a privilege it would be to be linked to the Arandale family.
What the hell does Lottie see in him?
Sure, Hugo was handsome if you liked his type: tall and blond, with the broad shoulders that came from rowing for Cambridge, and the drawling vowels and seemingly bulletproof confidence that often went along with inherited wealth. In Archie’s case, that particular gift of genetics had passed him by. Perhaps because his older brother and sister had got it all.
Archie wasn’t close to either of his siblings. As he studied Lottie, his sister, he realised he knew nothing about what lay underneath the confident veneer she always projected. She was seated beside Hugo, smiling up at him indulgently. Hugo might not be Archie’s type at all, but he had to admit that he was probably a good match for Lottie. They both worked in finance, helping rich people like themselves stay rich, and fitted effortlessly into the elite circles they’d been born into—unlike Archie. After twenty-one years, he could fake it when he needed to, but he always found it exhausting.
He sighed.
As a child he’d wondered for a while whether he was adopted, but that idea had been dashed when he’d asked his mother about it. “Of course not, darling. Don’t be so silly. Why on earth would you think that?” Later it had occurred to him that he could be illegitimate, once he was old enough to understand what that meant. Perhaps that was why he felt like an outsider in his own family? But puberty had sharpened his features, subtly shifting them so he could see enough of his father staring back at him from the mirror, and he’d had to let go of that theory too.
He was a misfit for no reason.
“—and finally, a huge thank you to all of you who are here this evening to help celebrate our engagement.” Archie tuned back in to Hugo, who was wrapping things up at last.
“To friends and family!” Hugo raised his glass, flashing perfect white teeth as he smiled. “To friends and family,” Archie muttered, before taking a large gulp of champagne.
He felt more alone here, surrounded by people, than he ever did in the solitude of his flat. All his family were present, but there wasn’t a single person in the room who Archie would count as a friend. Depressingly, there wasn’t anyone anywhere in the world who Archie counted as a friend.
A friend was someone you could be yourself with, and Archie had too many secrets to risk that.
After washing his hands, Archie checked the time again. It was just past nine o’clock. He could probably get away with leaving in about half an hour without seeming rude. Alone in the men’s toilets and stalling for time, he studied his appearance critically. With his perfectly groomed hair and his perfectly cut suit, he looked exactly what he was: rich, conventional, and boring. A good little cog in the complex machine of old money and privilege.
He rumpled his hair until it was messy, tugging the fine blond strands into spikes. What would he look like with a piercing in one ear? Or with black liner smudged around his blue-grey eyes? Would his arse look good in the black skinny jeans he hankered after but didn’t dare buy, let alone wear?
The sound of the door made Archie jump out of his skin. He swiftly smoothed his hair back into place, heart pounding as some friend of Hugo’s met his gaze in the mirror and gave him a curt nod as he passed on his way to the urinals.
Hair fixed, Archie rolled his shoulders like a fighter going back into the ring.
One more drink, then he could escape to the refuge of his flat.
Leaning on the bar, Archie caught the eye of one of the servers, a cute guy with dark hair and olive skin.
“Yes, sir. What can I get you?” His accent was European, and the glint in his eyes when he smiled sent a frisson of interest through Archie that was immediately doused by anxiety.
“Whisky and Coke please—make it a double,” Archie replied, letting his gaze slide away as soon as he’d made his request.
Looking around the room, he saw his parents deep in conversation with another middle-aged couple, and a young woman. As he watched, his mother glanced up and saw him. Her face lit up and she said something as she pointed his way, and they all turned to look at him. Then she set off in Archie’s direction with the unerring determination of a guided missile homing in on its target.
Bollocks.
Trapped, Archie waited for the inevitable.
“Here you go, sir.” The server slid a glass across the black marble top of the bar.
“Thanks.” Archie took a fortifying slug of his drink.
“Archie, darling. Where have you been hiding?” She didn’t give him time to reply. “Come with me. I want to introduce you to someone.”
Resistance was futile. Archie let her guide him through the throng, clutching his glass like a shield.
“I found him!” his mother trilled. “Allow me to introduce my younger son, Archibald.” Archie managed not to cringe at her use of his full name. “Archie, this is Jonathan and Celia Berkshire, and their daughter Fiona. She’s a student here in Bristol, doing a master’s in politics and economics. Archie graduated from the University of Bath this summer.”
At these sorts of gatherings, his mother never missed an opportunity to introduce him to single girls who were around his age. She was determined to marry all her children off to other children from wealthy families. His older brother, Henry, was already married with two children so her work was done there. Now Lottie was engaged to Hugo all their mother’s attention would be focused on setting Archie up with a “nice girl”. Archie hadn’t yet dared tell her that he’d rather be set up with a boy—and although his same-sex attraction was still entirely theoretical at this point, he was pretty sure that nice boys didn’t really do it for him either. Give him a bad boy any day.
“Hello, hi, hello. It’s lovely to meet you.” Archie shook hands with the three of them, face arranged into his best polite smile.
Fiona’s smile looked as brittle and uncomfortable as his felt, and they only made eye contact briefly. She was pretty in an understated way, with straight dark hair and intelligent eyes in a heart-shaped face.
“So, Archie. What are you doing now you’ve finished your studies?” Jonathan Berkshire asked.
“Oh, this and that. I’m mostly helping my father out at the moment,” Archie replied smoothly. Since leaving university a few months ago, he’d been trying to decide what he wanted his future to look like, while resisting increasing pressure from his parents to work for his father’s finance company. In the meantime, his father had enlisted his help with some admin relating to properties he owned, which was keeping him busy and keeping his parents off his back—for now at least.
“Ah.” The air of bonhomie slipped a fraction. “Good for you. Enjoying it?”
“Absolutely. Yes.” Wanting to shift the spotlight away from him, Archie turned to Fiona. “What are your plans for next year?”
There was a tense pause before she answered brightly, “I want to stay on at Bristol and do a PhD.” Her gaze flickered to her father.
“Oh really? What area will you specialise in?”
Another loaded silence was broken by Celia Berkshire clearing her throat loudly. “We should leave you young folk to get to know each other.” She beamed meaningfully at them, and Archie could practically see the imaginary grandchildren flashing in her eyes like cartoon dollar signs. “Don’t stick around letting us bore you; go and get yourselves another drink or something.”
They both had drinks in their hands already, but Archie wasn’t going to refuse a chance to escape. “After you?” He smiled at Fiona, who nodded and led the way—not to the bar, but to a table in the corner where it was quieter.
“God, I’m so sorry,” she said as soon as they sat down. “My parents are determined to marry me off as soon as possible, but I’m single and quite happy that way—just so you know.”
Archie snorted in amusement and relief. Having expected to have to make a polite amount of awkward small talk before he could ditch Fiona, her honesty made him want to stick around for a while. “Mine are the same. It’s dreadfully tiresome isn’t it?”
“It’s a bloody nightmare.” She shook her head. “I’ve tried asking her to stop, but it’s like talking to a brick wall. I think she’s secretly hoping that if I get hitched, I’ll give up on my studies and start popping out babies instead.” She wrinkled her nose as though the idea was horrifying. “They never even wanted me to do a degree, let alone a PhD!”
“I sensed the tension.” Archie gave her a sympathetic smile. “So, what is your PhD going to be about?”
She met his gaze and there was a determined glint in her eyes as she replied. “Capitalism, and the role of inherited wealth in perpetuating inequality.”
Archie gaped at her. “You have to be kidding me.”
“I’m not.” Fiona picked up her glass of red wine and took a sip.
He shook his head admiringly. “Bloody hell. You’ve got bigger balls than me. I’m impressed.”
“Really?” She narrowed her eyes.
“Definitely.”
Relaxing, she smiled. “Well, Archie. You just passed the first test where others usually fail. That’s normally a sure-fire way of getting rid of any suitors my parents shove into my path. If I were looking for a boyfriend you might actually be a contender.”
Archie chuckled. “And if I was looking for a girlfriend—which I’m not—I think I could probably do a lot worse than you.”
They grinned at each other.
“How long do you think we have to keep this up?” Fiona asked. “Not that it’s turning out to be too much of a chore after all, talking to you, but I’d like to go home soon.”
“Me too. Ten minutes or so?” That would give them time to finish their drinks. After that Archie reckoned it would be reasonable to say a quick goodbye to Lottie and Hugo, dodge his mother, and make his getaway.
“Yes, that sounds about right. Do you have far to go?”
“Not at all. My flat’s only about ten minutes’ walk away.”
“Oh, that’s handy. I could have done with more alcohol to get through the evening, but I drove. I suppose I could have got a taxi.” Fiona glanced across at their parents again. “Ugh. My mother’s trying to pretend she’s not watching us, but she’s so unsubtle. Can we pretend to swap numbers? That will keep her happy.”
“Of course. Actually….” Archie hesitated as an idea began to take shape. “How about we really do swap numbers? That way we can message each other occasionally, and maybe that’ll keep our parents off our backs for a while? I don’t know about you, but with Christmas looming there are a lot of social engagements coming up, and I’m thoroughly fed up of being thrust under the noses of single girls.”
Her eyes lit up. “Ooh! So, you mean we could let them think there’s something going on? I like the sound of that. There are only so many eligible bachelors I can cope with being polite to before I lose it and behave badly. Let’s do it.”
They swapped phones and typed in their names and numbers before handing them back.
“Thanks, Archie.” Fiona gave him a tentative smile. “I only come to these events to keep my parents happy. I normally never meet anyone who I actually like, but I can imagine being friends with you.”
Touched and flattered, Archie smiled back. “I’m glad you feel that way, because I can imagine it too.”
Fiona raised her glass.
“To friendship.” “To friendship,” he echoed, clinking his glass lightly on hers.
After he and Fiona parted ways, Archie managed to corner Lottie.
“I’m heading off now, sis. Congrats again on snagging Hugo, and thanks for a super party.”
“Thank you, darling.” She beamed at him. “It has been a lovely night, hasn’t it?”
“It really has.”
She lowered her voice. “I’m knackered now though, and these bloody shoes are killing me!”
Chuckling, Archie stepped forward to kiss her cheek. “Hang in there, not too much longer to go. Goodnight, Lottie.”
“Bye, Archie.”
Free to leave, Archie made a beeline for the door. He was almost home and dry when his mother’s voice rose above the background chatter. “Archie, Archie!” He considered feigning deafness and picking up his pace, but feared she’d only get more shrill.
He turned to see her hurrying towards him. “Hello, Mother.”
“Are you sloping off already?” Her expression conveyed disapproval.
“Yes. I know it’s a little early, but I’m feeling slightly under the weather.”
“Hmm. You could at least have come to find me to say goodbye!”
A clear voice from behind Archie said, “I’m terribly sorry, Mrs Arandale, but that’s my fault. I offered Archie a lift home and I’m in a hurry. Sorry to steal him away.”
Archie turned in surprise to see Fiona standing at his shoulder.
“Oh, that’s quite all right, dear. How kind of you to drive him.” Archie’s mother beamed. “In that case I won’t keep you. It was so lovely to meet you, Fiona. I do hope our paths will cross again soon.” Her eyebrows did something meaningful.
“I’m sure they will,” Fiona replied.
“Good night, darling.” Archie’s mother kissed the air near his cheek. “I’ll see you at the Morgan Stryker Christmas party next weekend.”
Archie’s heart sank. He’d forgotten about that particular joy. Of all the events on his social calendar, the ones held by his wealth management company were the ones he hated the most. Maybe he could find an excuse to get out of it. “Oh yes. I’ll probably be there.”
“Your father’s making a speech, remember. I’m sure you’ll want to be there to support him.” Her voice was as sweet as spun sugar, but there was a steely glint in her blue eyes.
“Right. Yes. Of course.” Archie nodded. “See you then!”
Finally free to go, he and Fiona made their escape.
As soon as they got outside Archie breathed a deep sigh of relief, drawing the crisp cold air into his lungs. Christmas lights hung in the trees around the square, reminding him that it was almost December.
“Free at last, eh?” Fiona adjusted her scarf.
“Yes. Thanks for saving me from my mother’s wrath.”
“That’s what friends are for,” she said lightly. “Do you want that lift, seeing as I’m here?”
“No, it’s okay. I’d honestly rather walk. But thanks anyway.”
“You’re welcome. See you around.” She flashed him a smile, and then turned and hurried off towards the car park on the other side of the square.
Archie currently didn’t own a car although he had a driving licence. When he was still living at the family home between Bristol and Bath he’d needed to drive to get to uni every day. But now he lived in the city he managed without a vehicle. He’d only moved into his own flat a couple of months ago and enjoyed walking around the city. It was still a novelty living right here in the middle of Bristol rather than in his parents’ house out in the countryside.
He loved everything about the city. The buildings, the parks, the harbourside, the history—not that it was one to be proud of, given that the city was built on the profits of slavery and tobacco. But most of all he loved watching the people. There was so much diversity. It made him realise how very narrow his tiny slice of upper-class privileged life was—in every sense of the word.
Feeling restless and bold, Archie detoured to walk down a street where there were a couple of gay bars. He’d walked past them a couple of times before but hadn’t yet dared to venture inside. As he strolled past on the opposite side of the street, trying not to be too obvious as he scoped it out, the door opened and two men emerged hand in hand.
As soon as they were outside, one of them pulled the other into his arms and kissed him. Not just a quick peck on the lips, but a real kiss, deep and passionate, the sort of kiss that usually came with a romantic soundtrack. Archie stopped, unable to tear his gaze away from them. In the shadow of a tree he was partly hidden from view, but he was in no danger of being spotted anyway. These men only had eyes for each other.
Finally they drew apart, and one of them said softly, “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”
Heart full of a strange, wild yearning, Archie watched them walk away, hands linked, and their footsteps keeping time until they rounded the corner and were gone.
Alone in the street again, Archie sighed and wondered what it must be like to have someone kiss you like that.
Will I ever find out?
Double Cherry Delight by Xander Collins
Chapter One
Jamison
“Whoa, there! Simmer down, man! You’re gonna break something if you keep that up!”
I took a deep breath and gently set down the sauce pot I was gripping in my hands. Just as my friend Ty had walked in my back door I’d yanked it out of the cupboard, causing a bunch of other pots to come tumbling down onto the linoleum floor. I sighed. “You can’t break stainless steel, you knucklehead.”
“Okay, well, maybe you’re right, but you never know. Why would you want to risk hurting his feelings?” he asked, picking one of the pots up off the floor and caressing it. “What did this poor guy ever do to you?”
I snatched the pot out of Ty’s hands. I didn’t even look up at his face because I knew he was smiling, probably even silently laughing at me. “Whatever. It’s no Amoretti. It’s not even copper.”
Ty laughed out loud this time. “I don’t even know what Amoretti is, dude. All I know is you look like you’re about to strangle someone. What’s going on? Is it work?”
I turned the knob for one of the burners and waited until the pilot light ignited before I turned around. “It’s always work.” I turned back to the counter and gathered the ingredients together for the cookie filling I was working on. I’d already prepped the cherries, so all I had to do was dump everything into a sauce pot and heat it over a low flame.
“I don’t know why you don’t just quit your job and do this for a living, Jamie. The only time you get angry at your cookware is when you’re getting the shaft down at the station. What happened this time?”
I washed my hands and dried them off, then threw the kitchen towel down onto the counter as hard as I could. The movement wasn’t as fulfilling as I’d hoped it would be, but at least it was something, and I wasn’t in danger of breaking any pots. “There’s a new guy … a detective from out of state. He moved here recently and he and I were put on the Danvers case today. It’s some organized crime group that started on the West Coast and have infiltrated almost every casino in every state all the way to the Mason Dixon line. They’ve gotten a stronghold on a couple in this state. That’s all I can really say about it, though. But the case is a huge deal, and guess who Holman made number one?”
“The new guy?” Ty asked.
“Bingo.”
“But wait, you’ve been there for years. You should totally have seniority.”
“No shit.” I leaned against the counter and folded my arms across my chest. “I mean, Foreman is out on maternity leave, so I’ve basically been a floater for the last month, but that shouldn’t mean anything.”
“Yeah, just because your partner’s out for a couple months doesn’t mean you’re back to square one. Did you talk to the chief?”
“Of course I did. He doesn’t give a damn. Apparently this guy is hot shit in whatever town he came from. Holman says he’s got experience with some of the guys we’ll be questioning in the case. He also said I could learn a thing or two from him.”
“Ouch,” Ty said. “That’s gotta hurt. So seriously, why don’t you take your baking to the next level? You already have a successful YouTube channel and blog. What’s holding you back?”
“The blog doesn’t mean shit, and the YouTube channel … it’s just not secure. Those things can be demonetized or shut down at any time, for absolutely no reason at all. If that was my only source of income I wouldn’t know from one month to the next if I was going to be able to pay my mortgage. And I can’t live like that.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“Besides, I like being a detective. When it’s not making my blood boil, that is.”
Ty stood over my shoulder and watched me stir the pot for a while. “But what about taking the whole baking thing to the next level. You could open a freaking bakery right here in town. People here would love it. You told me you’re always getting asked to bring those famous cherry cookies of yours to every single function. People love them.”
“I don’t know.”
“Hey,” he said, still looking over my shoulder. “Is that what you’re making for the auction tonight?”
“Yeah, this is the filling.”
“Ooooh, are there gonna be any extras,” Ty asked, grabbing a spoon and dipping it into the simmering liquid.
“I’m making a double batch.”
“Dude, what the hell?” he asked as he put the spoon coated with cherry filling into his mouth. “You don’t sound like someone who’s making a double batch of the best cookies in the world. You sound like you’re on the way to get a root canal. Cheer up! This auction is supposed to be fun! Aren’t you excited?”
I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Yeah, sure, I’m excited.”
“Come on! I hear Brad Johnson is going to be there! You’ve had the hots for him for freaking ever!”
Heavenly Melody: Avi's by Sammi Cee
Chapter One
Avi
Crap! Crap! Crap! I jumped out of bed and rushed toward the bathroom once I saw the time on my alarm clock. My regal cat, Lady Di—a white Ragdoll with brown on her paws and a brown and gray face, complete with stunningly blue eyes—had demanded extra snuggles this morning. I’d been so focused on her, I didn’t realize that time had gotten away with me. After a too quick shower, I tossed on a pair of gray slacks with a long-sleeved white dress shirt and ran to throw a couple of everything bagels into the toaster. Man, I was craving a french toast bagel with cream cheese from my local coffee shop, but I was out of time.
I felt the vibrations of Lady Di’s rumbling purr against my leg at the same time I heard them. “Yes, baby. Daddy is going to feed you before I leave for work.” I made sure she had food and water, promising her I’d change her kitty litter when I got home, then I smeared cream cheese on the bagels before remembering that I hadn’t made coffee. My morning was off track, but as Lady Di rubbed one last time against my legs, I couldn’t be mad. I loved my job at Takoda Soup Kitchen, a nonprofit I ran with my best friends Fisher and Jonathon, but my cat was the one waiting at home for me at the end of the night, the one who kept my bed warm, and she needed love, too.
It was a cold fall day as I pulled up outside the back entrance of the soup kitchen, two minutes later than usual. Thankfully the sun was shining, since Jasper, one of our volunteers, was leaning against the building waiting for me. He was bundled into his coat and trying not to appear cold, though his nose was red and he was rubbing his hands together. I noticed he didn’t have gloves on and made a mental note to grab an old pair from home and bring them in tomorrow. At least he was wearing the gray hat and scarf that my friend Mikah had made and sent for me to have for those in need. “Good morning, Jasper.”
“Good morning,” the young man mumbled. We weren’t sure how old he was, but based on his youthful appearance, we were guessing between nineteen and twenty-one. He hadn’t given us much information about his life, but it didn’t take a genius to know he was homeless.
Fisher, who ran the kitchen, had struck up a conversation with Jasper one day after he’d come in for the nightly meal and discovered he was interested in cooking. Under the pretense of needing help—not that it was far from the truth with the amount of people we were feeding—Fisher had enlisted his services. I’d tried to put Jasper on payroll, but he wouldn’t accept my offer, stating that if I was going to pay someone, then I should hire someone trained. There was no negotiating with him, so my habit of bringing him whatever I had for breakfast began. “I’ll start the coffee once we get inside. I was running late this morning so I didn’t have time to grab us one.”
Jasper, with his longish black hair and five o’clock shadow, had the haunted eyes of a man well beyond his years, but at least this made him grin. “Lady Di wouldn’t let you out of bed again, would she?” he teased. My devotion to my spoiled cat was a joke amongst my friends, and after spending the last six months working with us, Jasper finally gotten comfortable enough to join in.
“Hardy har har. Laugh it up. I leave her alone all day, so she needs attention before I leave in the morning. It breaks my heart when she stares at me with those big blue eyes. And okay, I admit, I feel judged.” Jasper shook his head, laughing, as he veered off toward the breakroom for the volunteers. One of our biggest beliefs here at the soup kitchen was that every volunteer and guest be treated with respect. So many came in broken and dejected, struggling to hold their heads up, and we wanted them all to know this was a safe, loving environment for them.
In the spirit of that, once Jasper agreed to being a full-time volunteer, we gave him his own locker in the small room where he left his outerwear, including the ever-present backpack that we believed housed all of his possessions. We provided a fresh change of clothes for the young man each day, and we kept a small bathroom fully-stocked with shampoo, body soap, an electric razor, and toothpaste. It didn’t have a shower, but it had a sink with a large basin and plenty of hot water. Luckily, he hadn’t been embarrassed, or taken offense, with our offer for him to freshen up each morning since he’d seen me take plenty of guests back and leave them, and they always reappeared out front cleaner and a whole lot happier.
However, he’d been hesitant to take us up on our offer of clothing until Jonathon, who ran the business end, assured him that it was his uniform and it was our job to provide it. The fact we kept his clothes basic, and included them for cleaning in the bi-weekly laundry service that we had for kitchen linens, seemed to put him at ease. None of us addressed the fact that he wore his clothes out when he left for the day, and exchanged them for fresh ones in the morning when I opened the door.
Before walking back to the kitchen, I took a minute to stand and marvel at what we had created in the last three years. As of right now, the eight, eight foot tables could comfortably seat sixty-four guests. Breathing deep, I let the smell of the place wash over me. When we’d first started renting space in this otherwise abandoned strip mall, it had reeked like old cardboard and gasoline. But after three years of Fisher’s good cooking, it smelled like comfort food, even before he arrived and began chopping the onions and garlic that he used as a base for so many of the meals.
Knowing the day waited for no man, I headed back to the kitchen to get the coffee brewing. We had an industrial-sized coffee urn for the guests at night, but during the day we used our twelve cup coffee maker. The four of us were all heavy coffee drinkers, and it would go fast, but it was one of Jasper’s jobs to keep the pot full throughout the day.
“I’m going to get started out front,” Jasper said as he stuck his head into the kitchen.
“How about we eat first and then we’ll both get started with our day? I have a ton to do myself.” He agreed and we had a companionable breakfast before he left to mop the dining room and I headed for my office.
Technically, I could have worked from home. We didn’t open the doors to the public until 5:30p.m. each evening, but this was where I belonged. Opening a non-profit to serve the community had been my heart’s desire since my mother had taken me to our neighborhood soup kitchen at fifteen to give a ten-thousand dollar donation.
That was a monumental moment in my young life, watching Mr. and Mrs. Olton burst into tears at my mother’s generosity. As a young man, I’d been bewildered by their response. They had provided meals for us countless times over the years prior, and it seemed only right that she gave back once she’d achieved success. It had taken me a long time to understand that many people who utilized the kitchen didn’t ever reach the success my mom did where it was possible to do such a thing. What I never understood was how once people were doing better, they never again returned to offer their services—whether financial or time—to the kind people who had been there for them in their time of need. It had been years since the Olton’s had closed down, and while other places had sprung up, rarely could they afford to provide more than a few meals a week.
“Morning,” Fisher said, knocking on my open office door.
“Hey, you already get your shopping done for this morning?” I asked as I powered up my computer.
“Na, I decided to get the food prep started early this morning. Della’s coming this afternoon and she can finish cooking. I want to leave and hit a couple of ShopRites. They’re having a sale on canned goods, but there’s a maximum purchase and I want to pick up a bunch. It’ll be great to have them to deliver next week when I make up the Thanksgiving bags.”
“Do you need anything from me?”
“Na, I’ll be good. There’s still plenty left in our budget for this month,” he replied as he started backing out into the hallway.
“Okay, yell if you need me,” I said to his retreating back.
Fisher was one of my oldest friends and had one of the biggest hearts of anyone I’d ever met. He was a handsome man, tall and lean. At twenty-eight, he was still single, but so were me and Jonathon. Fisher’s disposition was often rude and surly, as he preferred the company of vegetables to people, and he tended to sound gruff. But when we’d started tossing around the idea for this five years ago, he’d offered to quit his eight to five and come in to run the kitchen. Even though he had no formal training, cooking had always been his passion, and under his leadership, the kitchen ran like a well-oiled machine. It was only the volunteers that worked with him on a weekly basis, and the families that he delivered groceries to on his own time, who knew what his closest friends and family did—not only was his growl harsher than his bite; in truth, he was an absolute puppy dog.
After checking my email, I began my work for the day. I spent most of my time managing my mother’s accounts. It was money from the sales of her books that had allowed us to get up off the ground and running. On occasion, Fisher and I both helped Jonathon write grants to seek more aid to feed the people of our community. But for the most part, anything financial was Jonathon’s to deal with. I made the monthly donation from MJ Layton Publishing, and paid the salary for the three of us, but it was his job to keep track of the funds, pay suppliers, etc.
I wandered out of my office at noon to see what we were having for lunch. All three of us—Fisher, Jonathon, and me—were always in to work by now. In the early days, we’d decided that we’d try to eat lunch here together so we could meet, guaranteeing we stay on the same page. At one time that meant trading off whose turn it was to buy lunch, but with the addition of Jasper to our ranks, Fisher had gotten into the habit of making lunch so that the young man wouldn’t feel weird eating with us.
I could hear Jonathon’s booming laughter before I made it all the way to the kitchen. Fisher was the most melancholy of us, I was the hopeful dreamer, but Jonathon was just old-fashioned fun. He was serious about our guests and serving the community, which was blindingly obvious with how hard it was to get him to take time off. Depending who was on schedule to supervise the meal service, we all could take a night off here and there. Fisher had a weekly, scheduled day off when Della cooked the pre-planned meal for him, and my schedule was pretty flexible, but often we ended up back here at night. Jonathon was the toughest, though. He was here every day, from noon to eight, without fail. It usually took a call from his parents to get him out of here for even two nights a month.
While he was here, he had a good time as he worked. He often had loud, raunchy conversations with the young adults or cursed up a storm with the old folk, but more often than not, it was with a huge smile on his face and a chuckle in his voice. The way he approached life made him a huge hit with everyone he met. It had been like that in high school and carried on into college. It was hard for people to believe that our big jokester had majored in accounting and finance, and gone on to become a licensed CPA. He used his knowledge wisely and attacked getting funding with vigor. We had hopes of expanding someday and offering more than one meal a day, but right now, just the fact we were open seven days a week was a testament to his diligence and commitment to our guests.
“What are you laughing at?” I asked as I walked in. Jasper and Fisher were both at the long silver prepping station, busy chopping up the assorted vegetables needed for tonight’s dinner and sliding them off of the cutting board into a large bowl between them. Jonathon was leaning on one elbow against the table that housed the coffee pot. At six-foot-four, he was bent almost in half, and still managed to look comfortable and relaxed. He tilted his coffee mug in my direction as he said, “We were discussing how your bed partner had you running late again this morning.”
I cut a snickering Jasper a mock-glare. “Hey, don’t hate. If you got your own pet, you’d get it.”
Jonathon barked out a laugh. “I can assure you that if I decide to have another living being in my space, it’s going to be a flesh and blood human who is willing to give pleasure and receive it back in a mutually beneficial way that results in a multitude of orgasms before I escort them safely out the door as soon as I wake up. There will be no feeding or cuddling or any of the other things you have to do with Lady Di.”
I flipped him off before asking, “Did you do the schedule for the volunteers for next month yet?”
“I’m going to work on that tomorrow, actually. I asked them all to please submit their requests for specific days on or off by the end of tonight.”
“Gotcha. Don’t forget to staff the Christmas party.”
“How could I forget that?” He huffed. “Give me some credit.” As he ranted, I winked at Fisher and Jasper, both of whom already knew I was only trying to get a rise out of Jonathon. He loved to bust my balls over Lady Di, and the only way to get at him was to suggest he forgot a task. After a minute, he shut up mid-sentence and laughed. “You’re such an ass.”
“Me?” I shook my head, snickering. “How could you even entertain for five seconds that I didn’t think you had it handled?” The volunteer schedule was one of Jonathon’s jobs and he took it as seriously as funding. He maintained it so that we ran efficiently, fully staffed for each position every day. I handled the training for the dining room volunteers and Fisher handled the kitchen staff. I also handled all of the volunteer appreciation. We knew we couldn’t do this without them, so it was important to me we got it right. We each had our part to play, and together, we were striving to do wonderful things for this community.
A Merry MacIntosh Christmas by Susi Hawke
Joseph
"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas"
I was getting too old for this shit. Three babies delivered tonight, and all after midnight. I hunched over the steering wheel, fighting back a yawn as I focused on the road. And wasn't this just the most miserable hour of the day? I couldn't think of anything worse than heading home alone to an even emptier house. But doing it at four o'clock in the morning somehow made it worse.
Enough. If I got any grumpier I'd be yelling at the neighborhood kids to get off my lawn before long. I blew out a breath and leaned back in my seat, turning on the radio for some background noise.
That's what I need, a little music to brighten the mood and wake me up a little.
I frowned at the cheery Christmas carol that blasted out at me. Bah humbug to that shit. I flicked through the stations with no luck. Every damned channel was playing a different obnoxious holiday song. My nostrils flared as I held my middle finger up at the holiday lights decorating just about every building I passed.
This was my personal hell. Every damned year. Christmas music playing nonstop the moment Thanksgiving ended. Lights and decorations everywhere I looked. Hell, I was halfway tempted to go find myself a nice mountain cave and hide away like the Grinch. Now that was a guy who knew how to deal with the damned holidays.
An orange light on the dash caught my eye, warning me I was running on empty. Dammit, I'd meant to stop and fill the tank on my way in earlier, but I’d been distracted by a call from a patient. While I wasn't a pediatrician by any means, it was difficult for patients to switch allegiance to a new doctor after spending nine months under my care. I wasn’t the first person I’d call about a newborn’s rash, but I understood why my patients did it without hesitation.
I got it. And secretly, I loved it. It was hard for me to watch them move on after the baby came too. Having never settled down myself, my patients were… well… my family. I smiled at that, because it was nothing but the truth. Most of my patients these days were babies I’d delivered at the beginning of my career. If that wasn’t practically family, I didn’t know what was. And wasn't that crazy how fast time could fly?
Shaking off my random thoughts, I pulled into the twenty-four hour Gas and Go. After I parked at the pump, I got out and stretched. The bracing early morning air woke me right up. My breath came out in a white fog as I rubbed my hands together and walked around to pump my fuel. I was so focused on getting my card out and remembering my pin that I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a familiar voice.
"Let me guess, you just got done birthing someone's baby. Can't think of any other reason you'd be out at this time of day. I’d ask how you're doing, but judging by the looks of you? I'd have to say you're getting too old for this shit."
By the time my old buddy Linc MacIntosh had finished messing with me, my pulse had almost calmed back down to normal. I shoved my card in my pocket and grabbed the nozzle off the pump, sticking it into my tank and locking it into place on autopilot before I turned to face Linc, leaning against my car with my arms crossed over my chest.
"Good guess, jerk. Considering it's my job to be out in the middle of the night, a better question would be why you're out at this hour." I studied him, wondering how he managed to stay looking so young.
Lincoln just grinned, the happiness in his eyes giving me my answer. "It was poker night with my boys. After I cleaned them all out, I decided it was time to call it a night."
I grinned back at him, somehow doubting the game had gone down that easily. His boys were every bit as competitive as their old man. "How are the boys? I haven't seen any of their husbands in my office recently, does that mean the MacIntosh family is done expanding for a while?"
"I don’t know, maybe? I hate to think we’re done with new life, but then again, we do have our hands full. My moms had all of them at their house for a sleepover tonight, can you imagine? There's no way Diane and I could handle all eleven at once. My mothers are real troopers for doing that. But that’s just how they are, so what can I say?" Linc shook his head as he chuckled, but his smile never faltered.
"Shut up, you big braggart. Go ahead, rub it in that you have eleven grandchildren again. I know you're dying to get it out there." I was giving him a hard time, but truth be told, I was happy for my buddy. He'd been separated from his sons for years after they all grew up and he thought they didn't need him anymore. He’d spent some lost years in Florida before finally getting his act together and coming home. These days he was surrounded by his family and had never been happier. He even had a new bride who was the light of his life. Speaking of which… "And what does Diane think of you being out playing poker all night?"
Linc's smile widened. "Diane helped make the snacks. Are you kidding me? I lucked out with this one, let me tell you. Not only does Diane understand me needing to spend time with my kids, she encourages it." The handle clicked in his tank and he turned to tend to it, glancing over his shoulder to keep the conversation going. "What about you, Joe? What's up with you these days? You haven't shown up for the last few of our family get-togethers, and I know damn well you were invited by half the clan."
I shrugged and got busy with my own tank when the pump clicked off on my side as well. "You know me and my never ending schedule, always busy busy busy. Especially this time of year. Doctor Rickman is out of town, so I'm the only one on call right now. Not that it matters, since it's not like I have anyone waiting at home for me anyway. I say let the people with families enjoy the season and I’ll pick up the slack."
Lincoln turned to catch my eye, his smile faltering for the first time. "Shit." He sucked in a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look up at the sky for a moment. "I forgot about the holidays coming on and how that always affects you. Listen, don't be a stranger or shut yourself away. I know how hard this time of year is for you. Let me be there, okay? Even if we just grab a beer or something."
I yawned into my fist as I shook my head. "Ignore me, buddy. I'm just overworked and underslept right about now. I'm coming off more maudlin than I normally would. I'm okay. Move along, there’s nothing to worry about here. And as for a beer, thanks for the offer, but did you miss the part where I said I'm the only doctor on call right now?"
Chuckling, I held out a hand, hoping to blow Lincoln off and make my escape. That's the thing about lifelong friends though, they don't let you get away with that shit. Ignoring my hand, Linc pulled me in for a quick hug and a slap on the shoulder. After he stepped away, he leaned back and wagged a finger in my face. "You're not getting out of it that easy, Joseph Alan Nielsen. Can't have a beer? Even better, I'll buy you dinner. Thursday night, it's gonna be you and me at the steakhouse with a fat slab of cow. Meet me at seven, or I'll sic my mothers on you."
I studied him for a moment before giving in. "Fine. Thursday at seven. But your ass is buying. I heard you say it, so don’t try and weasel out when the bill comes. I plan on making the most of you creaking that wallet open." I ignored his laughter as I waved over my shoulder and got in my car.
The good feeling in my gut from running into my buddy as I pulled away quickly turned sour within a few blocks when I noticed a holiday display again. I tried not to think about everything it represented and focused on driving home.
It didn't work though. Especially when I passed through the downtown and drove by the community Christmas tree. This town had so many holiday memories, going back as far as I could remember. Every bright, cheery display was like a knife to the gut when I thought of everything they stood for.
Family. Home. Stockings hanging from the mantel and a tree surrounded by gifts.
All the things I hadn't had in over thirty years and never would again.
The Christmas Dragon's Mate by Silvia Violet
The shop I was looking for was on the next block. Tolliver’s Treasures. I vaguely remembered the windows being full of all sorts of kitschy gifts, but it hadn’t seemed nearly as interesting until it had been transformed into a Christmasy wonderland.
The door jangled as I pushed it open. A young man called out to welcome me, and I was suddenly transfixed, not by the beautiful glass I had come to acquire, but by the omega behind the counter. He made the two boys I’d devoured earlier that week seem like stainless steel next to the finest gold.
His golden hair shimmered in the light as magnificently as the glitter-filled ornaments. His eyes were bright blue, like jewels. His skin was smooth and beautiful, his body lean but not skinny. There was plenty of flesh for me to sink my teeth into. It was as if he’d been created just to tempt me. And he smelled absolutely delicious. His heat was coming on. Soon he’d be ready to beg for a thick cock inside him and a knot to fill him up.
Mine, my dragon insisted. Yes, he would be mine. The mere thought of him spending his heat with someone else made my dragon push to be released. The animal inside wanted to snatch up the omega and fly home with him held in his talons. But my dragon form was far too large for this little shop. My transformation would shatter all the lovely glass. I wondered if the omega had ever met a dragon. Not likely since my kind were rare. There weren’t many of us within easy distance of this village. He was in for a treat. If he’d never experienced the wonder that was my kind, he’d never truly been satisfied. I stifled a groan as I imagined taking him home and playing with him amongst all my shiny things.
“May I help you, sir?” The delightful omega interrupted my fantasies. I smiled at him, reminding my dragon he would have to behave for now. “Is there something you need?”
Even his voice was perfect, soft and sweet. This omega wasn’t a snack. He was a treasure I wanted to collect. I would add him to my hoard along with the sparkly things he sold.
“There is much you could help me with. But first, I’d like these.” I pointed to the glass ornaments that hung near the counter.
“How many of them, sir? And what color?”
I tried to focus on the glass orbs, but all I could think about was the omega. His scent was too intoxicating. “All of them.”
Jay lives just outside Bristol in the West of England. He comes from a family of writers, but always used to believe that the gene for fiction writing had passed him by. He spent years only ever writing emails, articles, or website content.
One day, Jay decided to try and write a short story—just to see if he could—and found it rather addictive. He hasn’t stopped writing since.
Jay writes contemporary romance about men who fall in love with other men. He self-publishes under the imprint Jaybird Press.
Xander Collins write super sexy, romantic omegaverse stories with the warm fuzzies, hot dudes, and cuddly babies we all crave.
Sammi Cee was raised in a family of readers. Summer vacations consisted of a good book while sitting lakeside from as far back as she could remember. After growing up and having her own children, her appreciation of how the written word could transport you on an adventure, bring you to tears, or give you hope, took on a whole new meaning.
These days Sammi is watching her children develop into fine young ladies while doing the things she enjoys most: drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and writing her own stories.
I'm a happily married mom of one snarky teenage boy, and three grown "kids of my heart." As a reader and big romance fan myself, I love sharing the stories of the different people who live in my imagination. My stories are filled with humor, a few tears, and the underlying message to not give up hope, even in the darkest of times, because life can change on a dime when you least expect it. This theme comes from a lifetime of lessons learned on my own hard journey through the pains of poverty, the loss of more loved ones than I'd care to count, and the struggles of living through chronic illnesses. Life can be hard, but it can also be good! Through it all I've found that love, laughter, and family can make all the difference, and that's what I try to bring to every tale I tell
Silvia Violet writes fun, sexy stories that will leave you smiling and satisfied. She has a thing for characters who are in need of comfort and enjoys helping them surrender to love even when they doubt it exists. Silvia's stories include sizzling contemporaries, paranormals, and historicals. When she needs a break from listening to the voices in her head, she spends time baking, taking long walks, and curling up with her favorite books. Keep up with her latest ventures by signing up for her newsletter.
Jay Northcote
WEBSITE / NEWSLETTER / FB GROUP / KOBO
EMAIL: jaynorthcote@gmail.com
Hamish Long(Narrator)
Xander Collins
EMAIL: xandercollinsauthor@gmail.com
Sammi Cee
Susi Hawke
Silvia Violet
A Boyfriend for Christmas by Jay Northcote
Double Cherry Delight by Xander Collins
Heavenly Melody: Avi's by Sammi Cee
A Merry MacIntosh Christmas by Susi Hawke
The Christmas Dragon's Mate by Silvia Violet
