Tuesday, January 12, 2021

Best Reads of 2020 Part 1


This past year has been a trying time to say the least and personally 2020 really screwed with my reading mojo, instead of finding solace in reading I found myself looking to visual forms of entertainment, we all need to use whatever we can to keep going.  So I was only able to read 160 books and many were re-reads.  This year's Best of series may not feature as many new releases but they are just as brilliant in my opinion, the old adage of "oldie but a goodie" was a prominent theme in this year's readings.  Course, just because they are "oldies" doesn't mean everyone has read them so I hope my Best of list helps you to find a new read, be it new-new or new-to-you or maybe it will help you to rediscover a forgotten favorite.  Happy Reading and my heartfelt wish for everyone is that 2021 will be a year of recovery, growth, and in the world of reading a year of discovering a new favorite.


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Part 2  /  Part 3  /  Part 4  /  Part 5


I Buried a Witch by Josh Lanyon
Summary:

Bedknobs & Broomsticks #2
Something old, something new, something borrowed…something blacker than the darkest night.

Cosmo Saville adores his new husband but his little white lies—and some very black magic—are about to bring their fairytale romance to an end. Someone is killing San Francisco's spellcasters—and the only person Cosmo can turn to—the man who so recently swore to love and cherish him—isn't taking his phone calls..

The only magic Police Commissioner John Joseph Galbraith believes in is true love. Discovering he’s married to a witch—a witch with something alarmingly like magical powers—is nearly as bad as discovering the man he loved tricked and deceived him. John shoulders the pain of betrayal and packs his bags. But when he learns Cosmo is in the crosshairs of a mysterious and murderous plot, he knows he must do everything in in his mortal power to protect him.

Till Death do them Part. With their relationship on the rocks, Cosmo and Commissioner Galbraith join forces to uncover the shadowy figure behind the deadly conspiracy…

Can the star-crossed couple bring down a killer before the dark threat extinguishes love’s flame?

I Buried a Witch is the second book in the smart and sexy Bedknobs and Broomsticks romantic gay mystery trilogy. If you like endearing characters, spell-binding conflict, and spooky, good fun, then you’ll love Josh Lanyon’s tale of a modern white knight and his slightly wicked witch.

Original Book of the Month Review January 2020
I Buried a Witch picks up practically right where book 1(Mainly by Moonlight) ended so if you're looking for a beginning and an ending with all the resolutions tied up in nice pretty bow you're in the wrong place.  If you love romance mixed with mystery and magic then you have found a series not to be missed.

I can certainly understand how some might not like John, he's definitely got plenty of qualities that aren't all smiles but he just found out that his new husband is a witch and that many aspects of the paranormal he's only found in books and movies are quite real, that's going to throw anyone for a loop.  Don't get me wrong, I wanted to smack him upside the head with a cast iron skillet more times than I wanted to cuddle him but I get where his reality has been forever changed so it was easy for me to cut him some slack.

As for Cosmo, I still want to smother him in Mama Bear Hugs but I also wish I could get him to take a breath or two before he blurts out stuff.  There are times I want Cosmo to be more assertive but there are also times when I'm screaming "SHUT UP!!"   They are both complex characters that continue to find their place in the world, professionally, personally, and magically.  It's no wonder they're as screwed up as they are.

The mystery just keeps unfolding and getting better and better.  I  can't help but think the Witch Killer isn't completely solved yet or only part of a bigger picture or perhaps it is all said and done and the next one is a whole new who done it(after all magical mysteries play on a whole different level in my mind), either scenario has me on pins and needles waiting to see where Josh Lanyon takes this in book 3: Bell, Book, and Scandal

In my review of book 1 I wrote "I loved how it made me nostalgic for the endearing comedy of Bewitched, the magical drama of Charmed, and the spell-driven romance of I Married a Witch. Magic, romance, murder, spells, mystery, these are all there.", well there may not be quite as much humor but honestly I don't think I can sum up I Buried a Witch any better.

RATING:

A Villain for Christmas by Alice Winters

Summary:
A Snow Globe Christmas #4
Despite growing up in a family of villains, I’d rather curl up and read than commit crimes. When I get coerced by my brother into helping him rob a bank, I run into August, my childhood crush—also known as Chrono, the city’s greatest superhero. He’s sexy, sweet, and suddenly he’s asking me to Thanksgiving with his parents. It’s probably because he doesn’t realize that I’m Leviathan, a villain with the power of telekinesis. And I can’t tell him because he’d never forgive me and would stop doing things like cooking for me—wait, maybe that would be a good thing, since he’s a terrible cook. It doesn’t help that my parents think they’re the ultimate villains and won’t stop getting in my way, although they can’t even steal toilet paper without getting caught.

But when real supervillains (not the wannabe kind that I grew up with) start targeting August, I might be forced to show everyone who I truly am: a slightly warped and snarky man who’d really rather read a book than save anything… besides August. I’ll tear this world apart just to get another glimpse of him in those glasses and spandex suit. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, even though it means exposing my true identity. Luckily, August still cares about me, proving that even a villain and a hero can fall in love. Hopefully, we’ll be able to save the world in time for Christmas.

This ridiculous and snarky holiday novel is 92,000 words and contains a villain turned unlikely hero (even if he’s a manager's worst nightmare), a superhero with a fondness for suckers who absolutely does NOT use his powers to cheat on board games, a hairless cat with an unfortunate name, bumbling family members that try to be evil but are mostly just embarrassing, a snow globe with mysterious powers, betrayal, true love, a risqué Santa suit, and the saltiest chicken ever.

Although this book is part of A Snow Globe Christmas series, it is a complete standalone, and it isn’t a requirement that you read the previous books to follow along. We wish everyone a happy holiday season.

Original Audiobook Review October 2020:
I'll admit that with everything going on in 2020 that I forgot it had only been about 10 months since I read this delightful gem.  Now I didn't forget just how delightfully genius and fun A Villain for Christmas was just that it had been only 10 months since reading it.

Having re-read my original review, I don't think I can add much more without giving anything away because even though this was from last year's Christmas releases I have a feeling there is still plenty that have yet to experience it's greatness.  There still isn't enough superhero stories in the LGBT genres for my liking so I know this won't be the last re-read/listen I enjoy of this Alice Winters gem.

I'll just add that this is the first audiobook with Michael Lesley as narrator for me, personally new-to-me narrators can be almost as "scary" as new-to-me authors. I needn't have worried because he does a wonderful job bringing this holiday fantasy to life, making Landon and August even more real than the author's words already did.  I could almost feel the jarring sensation in my arm when I wanted to smack a couple of characters with a frying pan, that's how into the story the author and narrator make the reader/listener, which is a mark of true talent.

Original Review January 2020:
There is just not enough superhero/supervillain(or in the case of Landon's family not-so-super-supervillians) stories in the LGBT genres.  A Villain for Christmas was the first book of 2020 for me and what a way to kick off the year!

This is another one of those stories that I'm not going to say too much about because you really do need to experience Landon and August's journey to fully appreciate the magnificence that is Alice Walker's storytelling.  There is so much goodness in this story and the genuine-ness of the characters, whether they fall on the good or bad side of the scale, is what makes them stand out.  You'll have moments of shaking your head and saying "WTF is wrong with that person?" and you'll have equal moments of "OMG how can one person be so understanding?"  It's these emotions that make this story so hard to put down.

This is only the second Alice Winters book I've read and it definitely cemented my desire to read more of her backlist this year.  She has a way with what I like to call "snark and cuddle" that make her characters not only fun(even if you want to shake them or smack them upside the head with a kitchen appliance) but that much more real, which isn't easy to do in the fantasy world of superheros and villains.  Being a holiday setting only makes the magic of the story that much sweeter.  Definitely a win win for both my holiday and superhero shelf.

RATING:

A Light in the Darkness by Alice Winters
Summary:
In Darkness #2
Felix and Lane are trying out their new normal. Normal means no more car chases, no more drug lords, and definitely no more kidnapping bad guys. All of that is a thing of the past in this new, normal(ish) life style filled with family get-togethers, torturous jogs through the park, and the occasional romp in the parking lot. Felix is done stealing (all but for the cat). He is actually enjoying the boring side of life, especially with Lane by his side doing what he does best: looking handsome. But when Felix’s brother wants to repair their relationship, he brings with him a secret that could cost all of them their lives. Lane isn’t complaining because the thrills of life-threatening situations are right up his alley. They may think they have a handle on the situation, but what they do not know is that someone has been working them from the shadows. Forcing them to do exactly what he wants as he drives them closer to his sick game of life and death.

Join Felix and Lane in a race against time, their only weapons being their humor and their wit.

Original Audiobook Review September 2020:
I really loved this series, such fun characters, I can't imagine Felix and Lane behaving any differently.  Their connection is brilliant and just jumps off the page at you,  I won't say any more to the plot but I will that Joel Leslie really makes their snark and cuddle moments even more of a delight.  I don't know what the author's plans are for the pair as to future installments and more zany suspense but I know that I will definitely be reading and listening to them all.

Original Book of the Month Review February 2020:
Felix and Lane just keep getting better and better.  From navigating their ongoing love, the drama of Felix's brother, the the complete awesomeness of Lane's family, Felix's penchant for finding trouble, and of course their wicked banter there is absolutely nothing to not love.

It is characters and stories like Felix and Lane that I've come to classify as "snark and cuddle".  By snark and cuddle I mean they pull no punches in their banter and dialogue but you never doubt for even a split second that it comes 150% from the heart.  They appear to fight and get on each other's nerves but it's done with such deliberate tones of love that it's just a part of who they are, without the banter the love wouldn't be there.  To some people it comes across as mean and spiteful but as someone who grew up in a household with that kind of banter(on a much smaller scale of course) I can spot it a mile away which is why I loved these two men from the very beginning.

As for Felix's brother, well the less I say about him is probably better because Darius is the kind of character you have to experience to understand.  Don't get me wrong, I wanted to hate him, I wanted Felix to get Lane to "work his magic" but I couldn't help but feel there was more going on then what the author was letting us see and boy was there more going on!  That's it! No more in that department you'll get from me other than: when you thought it was over it is so not done. #sorrynotsorry😉😉

I had been hearing great things about Alice Winters' work from friends who's opinions mattered to me and I respected but I never took the plunge until this past November when book 1 came up in 2 different posts I made in a FB rec group.  I absolutely LOVED IT!!!!  Because of the holiday I only read book 1 but 2 & 3 were at the top of my 2020 list.  Now I'm off to read book 3, can't wait to see what's next for Felix and Lane.

RATING:

Valentine's Vows by Helena Stone
Summary:
Valentine's Love #3
Ty O’Malley and Ben Cronin joyfully invite you to help them celebrate their marriage on Valentine’s Day!

Two weeks before the big day, Ty and Ben can relax. With the ceremony planned and the party venue booked, they’re looking forward to counting down the moments until they are husband and husband.

Then…disaster strikes.

After the hotel cancels their reception booking, Ty and Ben resign themselves to a wedding day without a big celebration. That is, until their ever-impulsive friend, Claire, offers to organize a party for them without revealing what she has in mind. Out of options, the grooms-to-be allow Claire to take the reins.

But with no idea what awaits them and many surprises in store, will Valentine’s Day turn into an unmitigated disaster or the best day of their lives?

Valentine’s Vows is the third title in the Valentine’s Love series and best read in sequence.

Original Review February 2020:
I can't say I forgot how much I loved Ty and Ben, how can one forget a couple who is just so lovely and fun?  I will admit I wasn't thinking about them as the holiday approached(though to be completely honest my mind and time has been a bit distracted the past few weeks with my mom's hip surgery😉) so when the author reached out to me about reading it, I was all kinds of grabby hands and "yes please!". 

I was not disappointed.  Okay maybe a little disappointed at the the thought this was the finale in Ty and Ben's story but not in the story itself.

So as you know, no spoilers will cross my lips(or fingers😉) but I will say that if their story had to end I can't imagine a better way than Valentine's Vows.  Happiness is never in question but what kind of "fix" has Clair come up with for their ruined reception plans?  Again, no spoilers from me but it's perfect.  From the anxiety the guys, mainly Ty, feel over losing their original planned hotel venue to wondering what she's going to come up with in two weeks to the joy of being husbands. 

Ty and Ben's journey is fun, romantic, sweet, sexy, heartwarming, and completely endearing.  It's full of people you want to know and maybe even do know, to me that's what really makes this trilogy extra lovely is the realistic-ness of the characters.  A true gem all the way around.

RATING:

Sticky Fingers by Davidson King
Summary:

When the desperate needs of his family must come before his dream of finishing his degree, Kyle, feeling both guilt ridden and heartbroken, knows what he needs to do. But when his help isn’t enough, a shady idea offered by his even shadier friend proves the only saving grace.

Mergers, acquisitions, and philanthropy consume Maddox’s days and nights prompting an overdue visit to his best friend’s luxury resort. Finally enjoying some R&R, he meets an adorable botanist working there for the summer. But a surprise visit from his ex and a shocking theft from his suite turn Maddox’s trip into chaos.

Trusting his gut, Maddox strikes a deal to help Kyle make up for his sticky fingers. But when his heart gets involved and his ex refuses to let go, Maddox’s plan starts to unravel. A summer of romance, deceit, and greed have both men navigating emotional waters, leaving them to wonder if true love and their happy ever after will come to pass.

Original Review February 2020:
Sticky Fingers, what a title!  What a story!!!  Now you know me, there won't be any spoilers in this review but let me just say I was completely sucked in halfway through page 3.  I firmly believe love knows no age but not all age-gap, May/December romances are meant to be.  Well, Kyle and Maddox are not only believably meant to be they are not meant to be with anyone else.  Now I used the term "believably", I think it's pretty certain early on that you'll never meet either man in your day-to-day routine and yet neither are they out of reachover-the-topsoap-opera-ish.  To me they are an even blending of realistic and fictional that makes the story and the predicaments they face even more tension-filled, heartwarmingly, snark and cuddle entertainment. 

Okay, that's it on the storyfront you are going to get out of me😉.  Some stories you can get a feel of the tale from talk and then there are stories that you just have to completely experience for yourself to understand and appreciate the pull, well Davidson King's Sticky Fingers is one of those you have to experience for yourself, at least in my opinion.

I've seen how people are saying Sticky Fingers is very different than Davidson King's Haven Hart Universe and it definitely is, yet the adrenaline rush I got while reading was exactly the same.  The heart-pounding passion to not put it down was there on every page just as it has been with all her stories.  Don't get me wrong, the story is vastly different, but the characters still possess the well developed edginess we've come to know King for but you'll never mistake them for any of the author's previous ones. 

In one of the author's facebook posts she talks about writing outside her comfort zone a bit with Sticky Fingers, Maddox, and Kyle well I can't speak for the author but personally you'd never know she "went outside her box", not because it's similar to her other work but because the flow is so beautiful and almost effortless.  This is only one of many reasons that makes Davidson King a storyteller, not just a writer, but a true storyteller.

RATING:



I Buried a Witch by Josh Lanyon
Chapter One
SCENE I. A CAVERN. IN THE MIDDLE, A BOILING CAULDRON.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches

First Witch

Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.

Second Wit—

Yeah, totally kidding about that. There was no second witch. It was one witch, me, and John, my husband, SFPD’s new Police Commissioner. Oh, and the scene was the breakfast table at our house on Greenwich Street in San Francisco. I was fixing French toast, which, for the record, is not French, and the coffee was just about ready.

“… new report, you need to make just over $343,000 in order to afford a median-priced home in San Francisco,” the bespectacled and solemn news reporter on the TV across the kitchen informed us. “The report was compiled by…”

John and I had arrived home the night before from Scotland, where we had been on our honeymoon for the past two weeks. As a side note, I am very much in favor of honeymoons. I mean, yes, they’re artificial in that getting to spend two weeks doing whatever pleasurable thing you feel like doing is not real life. And, yeah, it’s also true that a luxury vacation in a romantic foreign country is probably not the best way to get to know someone you’ve only known a short time—although it certainly works that way in Hallmark movies. But it is a good way to figure out if you want to spend more time together, and needless to say, I had figured out I wanted to spend as much time as possible with John. Ideally, the rest of my life.

John poured coffee into two mugs. “You’re still okay with hosting this cocktail party on Wednesday?”

“Of course.” His expression was doubtful. “What?” I asked.

He nodded at the wall of cardboard boxes filling half the kitchen.  It was pretty much the same situation in every room of the house. Combining our separate households meant John and I had bestowed a lot of worldly goods on each other. And then we’d bought a few new pieces too–like the Victorian black and bronze bed in the master bedroom.

“I’ve got a lot of catching up to do this week. I’m not going to be able to be much help. Presumably it’s going to be the same for you.”

“I can manage. Don’t worry. I’ll have Bridget to help.”

John looked unconvinced, but he poured a generous helping of cream and sugar into my coffee, brought it to me with a kiss.

“I’m going to miss you today,” he murmured.

“Same here.” I kissed him back.

That led to another longer kiss, and before I knew it, I was sitting on the quartz counter with my jeans unzipped, the French toast was burning, and the doorbell was ringing.

“Hell,” John exclaimed, hastily tucking his shirt in and zipping up his trousers. “That’s Aloha.”

“Yes, it is,” I sighed. “In more ways than one.”

Aloha Newman was John’s driver. Though she worked for SFPD, she was not actually a police officer and did not carry a gun. That was fine by me. I’d had more than enough of guns on our wedding day.

What Aloha did possess was a ruthless sense of punctuality.

“I’ll see you around six.” John was already heading for the arched doorway leading into dining room.

“We’re having dinner at your mother’s,” I called after him.

He muttered something uncomplimentary to the universe, returned, “Right. See you at five-thirty.” The front door slammed behind him.

I sighed, glanced at the stove and twitched my nose. The dial turned to off, the flame beneath the pan guttered and died. “Down the sink, before you stink,” I muttered.

Two burned slices of egg-coated bread rose from the pan, floated past my face, and dropped down the sink drain.

Across the room, another reporter, also bespectacled and solemn but female, was reciting, “Though friends of the victim say Ms. Starshine was a practicing Wiccan, investigators speculate these “satanic” elements might be intended to divert suspicion from the killer or killers.”

“What the what?” I hopped off the counter and went to turn up the sound on the television—the remote was still MIA—which promptly zapped me. “Ouch!”

The volume blasted up then died away again.

By the time I managed to dial in the sound, the cameras had returned to the studio and the news anchors (recognizable for the lack of spectacles or solemnity) were exchanging cheery banter about the weather forecast. Sunny with a chance of homicide?

I made a mental note to ask John about the Starshine case, turned off the TV and sprinted upstairs to get changed for work.

“How was Scotland?” Andi asked when I stopped by her apartment in Alamo Square to pick up Pyewacket.

Andi—Andromeda Merriweather—has been my best friend since I can remember. Her mother and my mother were chums back in the day and apparently it was a dream come true to be able to share morning sickness and swollen feet with their nearest and dearest. I’m not entirely kidding about the nearest and dearest. By the time I came along, my parents were experiencing a certain lack of enthusiasm, and Andi’s father had crossed over, so Maman and Belinda did rely heavily on each other. Girl Power being a magic that transcends realms.

Anyway, Andi is three months older than me. She’s tall and slim with short, inevitably spiky red hair, freckles, and hazel eyes. She owns and operates the Mad Batter bakery, which has The Best cupcakes in all of San Francisco. And I don’t say that merely because I concoct the recipes for her exclusive line of cocktail cupcakes.

“Bonnie,” I answered, cuddling Pye. Pyewacket is my three-hundred-year-old Russian Familiar. I mean, I haven’t had him for three hundred years–I only turned twenty-nine in May. Pye inhabits the body of a cat. A Russian Blue cat.

I kissed Pye’s nose, which he bore stoically. “Was he any trouble?” I asked Andi.

She shook her head, smiling as she watched us. “He’s good company for Minerva.” Minerva is Andi’s Familiar, a Dwarf Hotot rabbit with a disposition as benign as the carrots she loves to snack on.

“Did you have fun?” I asked Pye.

His meow was loud and scented with liver-flavored Friskies Paté.

“I bet,” I said.

“So everything is…good?” Andi asked–maybe a little tentatively.

“Everything is great.” I guess I was beaming because Andi looked relieved.

“You look happy.”

“I am. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.” To be honest, it was a little unsettling. Obviously, the honeymoon phase couldn’t last forever, and I wasn’t sure how much of John’s and my contentment with each other was the result of a couple of weeks of nothing to do but sight-see and make love.

“I’m glad.”

I didn’t doubt it. If anyone had a vested interest in my relationship with John working out, it was Andi, who was, when you thought about it, inadvertently responsible for the whole thing. “How’s it going with Trace?” I asked.

“Great.”

I hadn’t expected that. Andi’s…well, picky.

“Really? That’s wonderful.” At least I hoped so.

“Is it? I mean, I really, really do like him.” She sounded troubled.

“But that’s good, right?”

“No. Not right. I’m not like you. I can’t—he’s mortal. Being together would mean, well, I’m not even sure what it would mean. A lifetime of living a lie? Or breaking my oath and telling him the truth?”

I considered. “As far as oaths go, don’t you think the not-telling-any-mortals-anything-ever rule is really more of a guideline?”

“No. I don’t.”

I did not want it to end. It was one of the sweetest, saddest (in a lighthearted way, not big, ugly tears-and-snot way), most romantic-without-feeling-faux original tales I’ve read.

“Because some mortals do know.” I was thinking of Ralph Grindelwood. Not that Ralph was a great example given that I now believed he was the sworn enemy of the Craft.

“That can’t be helped. It doesn’t change anything. We cannot contribute to their knowledge.”

In our silence lies our safety.

The final—and some would say the most important—of the Ten Precepts.

Still I persisted, “I understand, but times are changing. Mortals are more accepting now. Of a lot of things.”

She shook her head. “Not really. Fashions change. That’s about it. And even fashion cycles around again.”

Kind of a bleak outlook from a girl who made cupcakes for a living, but Andi’s feelings mirrored those of a lot of our friends—and both of our families.

“Yeah, but even two steps forward and one step back means progress. Incremental maybe, but progress.”

She shook her head. “You’re an idealist, Cos.”

I let it go and changed the subject. “Well, on the topic of fashion, I brought you something frae Bonnie Scotland.” I shifted Pye onto my shoulder, and handed over a small box.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

Andi unwrapped the box, lifted the lid, and her face changed. “Oh, Cos.” She picked up the necklace inside. A tiny cinnabar carved sacred heart crowned with a flame of raw garnet stone dangled from a vintage rosary made of bogwood.

“It’s lovely.”

“I found it in an antiques shop in Dumbarton.  It’s Wiccan, I think.”

“I love it. Thank you.”

“And I’ve been thinking of a Drambuie-based cocktail that might work for cupcakes.”

Her eyes lit. “Perfect timing. We need to shake up our menu for autumn.”

“Autumn? It’s only July.”

“Exactly. Time to start planning.”

We chatted another minute or two and made plans to meet for lunch on Wednesday. I coaxed Pyewacket into his carrier, and headed for the door.

As I was leaving, I asked, “Have you heard anything about Rex?”

Rex was a friend of ours who had been injured in a hit and run accident. When John and I had left for Scotland they had still been in a coma.

Andi shook her head. “Sorry. Nothing. But then I’m not sure I’d hear anything. They’re really more your friend than mine.”

“What about Oliver?”

“Oliver?”

“Oliver Sandhurst.”

Andi only looked more confused. “What about him?”

“I thought I told you this. He disappeared after I tried to—after my visit to the Creaky Attic.”

“Oh. Right. That feels like a million years ago. I haven’t heard anything.” She looked apologetic. Not that Oliver was her responsibility. Technically, he wasn’t my responsibility either.

But I did fear for him. And I did feel responsible.

Confused yet?

Let’s recap. A month ago, I met John Joseph Galbraith, San Francisco’s new police commissioner and my husband-to-be, at Bonhams’ warehouse where we were both interested in bidding on a black and bronze Victorian antique four-poster with crystal bed knobs. I was attracted to John from the minute I laid eyes on him. I don’t know why exactly, because he wasn’t really my type. Not that I think of myself as having a type, but if I did, it wouldn’t be a big, brusque Kennedyesque guy with a military background and political ambitions.

Except, somehow, when I gazed into his amber—yes, brown-gold—eyes, something funny happened to me. I’m not saying it was love at first sight, but I did feel some instant, odd connection. Which is why it sort of smarted that John didn’t feel the same. In fact, he was kind of…well, let’s say pointedly not interested.

Which, come to think of it, maybe is a sign of interest?

Or maybe I’d just like to believe that John caustically brushing me off was the equivalent of Gideon Terwilliker pushing Andi into the swimming pool back when we were in the third grade.

Anyway, Andi did not appreciate that slight to my ego and she, er…cast a spell on John so that the next time he saw me, he, well, fell in love.

Or thought he did.

Which is sometimes the same thing.

And sometimes not.

That explains John’s part of all this. It doesn’t explain why I went ahead and married a man I’d only known two weeks. But you know, you either believe in love at first sight or you don’t. And if you don’t, you’re quite right not to because it will never happen to you.

I don’t say that to be mean. It’s a fact. If you can’t conceive of a thing, how will you recognize it when it happens? Unless we’re talking about an earthquake. Anyway, it’s right there in the Bible. Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.

It does happen to some of us. It happened to me.

Granted, part of what—who—I fell so head-over-heels for was the John under the influence of the love spell. The John not under a love spell was a different bloke. Not nearly as romantic—or malleable. Yet it didn’t seem to matter to my heart.

Regardless of the bait, once a fish is hooked, it’s hooked.

I forgot to mention the part where, a couple of days before our wedding, I was suspected of murdering Seamus Reitherman, a fellow witch in the Abracadantès tradition. I was—patently, since I’d just returned from my honeymoon—exonerated, but unfortunately the police had arrested the wrong person.

Or at least, that was my theory before I went to Scotland for two weeks.

After two weeks of Scottish history, Scottish weather, Scottish booze, and an encounter with a Scottish ghost, I was not quite as sure. Scottish women are that rare mix of ruthless pragmatism and blazing idealism. So, yeah, it was possible that Ciara Reitherman had killed her husband. She had tried to kill me.

Then again, Ciara’s attempts to kill me had almost certainly been driven by her belief that I’d killed Seamus.

Or maybe not.

Occam’s razor, as John had pointed out when I’d tried to make a case for Ciara being wrongly arrested. The simplest explanation is the most likely. At least when it comes to police work—according to the police commissioner in the family. It was far more likely Ciara had killed her unfaithful (and generally exasperating) husband than that some shadowy global conspiracy tried to frame me for murder.

Not that I had told John about the shadowy global conspiracy that might or might not really exist.

Just one of the things I hadn’t told John about.

* * * * *

“Welcome home. We missed you.” Blanche greeted me, when I finally arrived at Blue Moon Antiques, cat carrier and peevish occupant, in tow.

“Thank you. It’s good to be home.” I gazed with satisfaction around the spacious and airy downstairs showroom. Light through the protectively tinted windows glanced off gilt curlicues, and silvered glass, warmed the velvets and brocades of aged upholstery, glinted off ivory scrimshaw and ebony trinket boxes.

Blanche asked, “How’s married life?”

“I highly recommend it.”

Blanche Baker has been working for me since I opened Blue Moon Antiques four years ago.

The customers love her. I love her. In fact, everyone loves Blanche. She’s about fifty. Tall and voluptuous with black, curly hair–currently streaked with indigo–one blue eye, one green eye behind a seemingly infinite wardrobe of rhinestone glasses (I’m partial to the ones with butterfly-shaped frames). Her makeup is on the sexy witch side, but she’s not a witch. She’s Wicca. Like most mortals, she’s not aware there’s a difference.

Blanche said cheerfully, “No thank you. I’ve been inoculated against that disease. Twice.”

“So you’re a carrier?”

“Ha.” She took the cat crate from me, set it on the counter, and lifted Pyewacket out. “Oh, you beautiful baby, what has he done to you?”

Pyewacket proceeded to detail his list of grievances into her sympathetic ear.

“Don’t listen to him,” I said. “He’s been living it up on catnip and dried shrimp at Andi’s.” I glanced around the still empty shop. “Where’s Ambrose?”

Blanche sighed. “Another problem with his grandma.”

“Another what problem?”

“I don’t know. He’s being very closed-mouth about it.”

“Uh oh. How long has this been going on?”

“Not long. The Tuesday after you left, he had to leave suddenly, but he was back the next day and he’s been here every day since. Until this morning. There’s a message on the machine. The poor kid is clearly stressed out of his mind.”

“Okay. I’ll deal with it.”

I had hired Ambrose right before the wedding. He’d been recommended by the previously mentioned Ralph Grindlewood. Ralph was a good customer and, once I’d have said, a friend. What exactly Ralph was now, I wasn’t sure. But I had hired Ambrose and agreed to make him my apprentice, so he was most definitely my concern.

“Anything else I should know before I start going through my mail?”

Blanche, still coddling Pyewacket, shook her head. “It’s actually been very quiet since you left.”

“Well, we’ll see what I can do to change that.”

She chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.”

All the same, she looked pretty surprised when she poked her head into my office a few minutes later to whisper, “Pierre Sjoberg is here to see you.”

I put down the catalog for Alexanders Auctioneers. “Who?” The name was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.

“The defense attorney.” Blanche was still whispering. She threw a quick, uneasy glance over her shoulder as though she feared Sjoberg was lurking behind her. “I think he’s her attorney.”

“Her who?”

Blanche hissed, “Ciara. Ciara Reitherman. The woman who tried to kill you!”


A Villain for Christmas by Alice Winters
“Landon, I want you to help me rob a bank.”

I try to ignore my brother, since I clearly didn’t hear him right.

“Won’t you do me a favor?” he asks after letting himself into my house without bothering to knock. Not that knocking would have done him any good since I wasn’t planning on letting him into my house at all anyway.

“No,” I say without bothering to look up from the book I’m reading.

“Just hear me out!” he exclaims.

I lower the book and look up at my older brother Brandon. Thankfully, I don’t take much after him. Not that he’s ugly or anything like that, he’s not, but just because he’s an idiot. And the one thing I don’t want to be is an idiot. “What, Brandon?”

“I want you to help me rob a bank.”

“No! You asked me last week, and I already told you I have better things to do. Like…” I look around as I try to think of something. It’s hard when my life consists of trying to avoid my family and reading every book I can get my hands on. Oh, and did I mention avoiding my family? Honestly, that’s a full-time career when they all have powers that allow them to better annoy the shit out of me. “Work.”

“Mom told me you got fired,” Brandon says as he sits down on the couch next to me.

“I got fired because Mom came in and told the boss that she needed me. When he said I was working and couldn’t just leave, she told him he looks like an overripe nut sac.”

Brandon starts laughing. “That’s so cool.”

“I hate all of you,” I decide as I lift my book back up.

“About the bank. Come on, you borrowed money from me last week.”

I stare at my brother in disbelief. “Five dollars. You honestly think the equivalent of you lending me five dollars is me helping you rob a bank? I’m not going to help you rob a bank again!”


A Light in the Darkness by Alice Winters
Chapter One
“Lane!” I scream.

I don’t know where he is, but I can’t get up. I can’t move.

“Lane!”

I might die here if he doesn’t reach me in time.

“What?” he asks as he steps into the living room. He’s a little hesitant as he walks in since he’s still trying to remember where everything is in his parents’ house. Even though he lived in this house as a child, it’s been hard for him to remember the placement of everything now that he can’t see any of it. Probably because he’s so old it feels like a lifetime ago that he lived here.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I ate so much that I can’t move,” I moan from where I lay on the couch. I peek over the armrest to get a good look at him. The first thing I notice isn’t his handsome face covered in just the right amount of stubble. It isn’t the sunglasses that he insists on wearing even when we’re at home. Nor is it his dark brown hair that seems to have a mind of its own. What I do notice is how sweaty he is. He’d been working out on the treadmill in the basement, and now his clothes are sticking to his chest, giving me a very nice view of his muscular frame. “Why is your mother’s cooking so good, Lane?”

He shakes his head, clearly disbelieving the fact that I may die after consuming too much food. “You’re going to turn into an Oompa Loompa if you don’t slow down,” he says.

I snort. “Thanks Lane, you’re the sweetest. I love you the most!” I say sarcastically.

“You do understand that just because she cooks it, doesn’t mean you have to eat all of it, right?” he asks as he slowly walks further into the room.

“It’s like hibernation. I’m creating a fat storage for when we move out and have to go back to starving,” I explain since my cooking is anything but edible. With a yawn, I stretch out my arms just as he touches the back of the couch.

“Well, you’re doing a splendid job of it because I went in to grab a cookie, and the cookie jar is empty. How many did you eat today?”

I watch his handsome face as he leans over me. He may not be able to see me, but he sure can scrutinize me when he thinks I’m not being honest. But I notice that there’s a slight upturn to his lips that makes it hard to keep my grin at bay. I kind of want to lean forward and capture those lips as my own.

“How many what?” I ask innocently. I’m not sure how he could point fingers at me when there are two other people staying in this house.

“How many cookies have you eaten?”

“In the past…five minutes? Or today?”

“Just choose.”

“Lane, I don’t like you making me feel bad about myself,” I say as I push my blond hair out of my face. Lane reaches down and touches my chest before feeling his way to my stomach and patting it.

He looks thoughtful as he feels it over. “That’s weird…it’s about the same size as the cookie jar,” he says.

I laugh and push his hand away. “No! Your mom said I could have them!”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “I heard the phone ring, who called you?”

I sit up as I grimace. “The realtor called, but I told her that we don’t need any of the lies she’s selling.”

“A house? The lie of a house?” he asks.

“Lane…I don’t want to leave,” I say as I look around the quaint living room with its walls smothered in pictures of the family.

If there is a span of the wall twelve inches wide that isn’t covered by a picture of someone in this family, then I’d be willing to bet my right hand that the photo fell down and Lane’s mother hasn’t gotten to putting it back up. It was cute when I first walked in, especially getting to see all the photographs of a young Lane, but the family photo in the bathroom that I have to look at while taking a shit is a bit too much. Yesterday I put a post-it note over everyone’s face in the photograph, and the others must think it’s an improvement because no one’s fixed it yet. Besides the family pictures, there are way too many sunflower decorations, but if I’m being honest, I love every inch of it. Even the picture in the bathroom.

“We can’t live with my parents,” he says.

“Says who? You? Because your mom said we can live with her forever, and I think she meant it.”

He grins as he shakes his head. “She was just being polite.”

“Lane…she loves me,” I say defensively. “Yesterday she bought me Gushers. Have you ever heard of those things? They’re like…gooey on the inside and absolutely amazing.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of Gushers before. So what time are we meeting her?”

“Three,” I say grudgingly. “We’ll leave in about twenty minutes to pick up Copper.”

“Then I better go get a shower,” he says as I stand up. “Can you pick my clothes out for me so we can keep moving?”

“Sure,” I say as I stretch again. These past few weeks have been good to me even though my body has begun to complain about inactivity.

“Thanks,” he says as he reaches for me, most likely to hug me, but I dodge him like the plague.

“I love you, Lane, really I do, but right now you’re past the point of attractive and into the field of disgusting. Way too sweaty,” I say with a grimace because I feel like we are definitely at a good enough point in our relationship where I can tell him how disgusting he is. He’s past the sexy, slightly sweaty version and into the disgusting, don’t touch me version.

“You won’t hug me?” he asks, looking offended.

I can tell he’s joking, but I wrinkle my nose as I stare at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Really,” he says, like his feelings are hurt. “Come on. Give me a hug.” He grabs for me so I scamper away.

“No! Go away!” I say. “I’m getting changed.”

“What? You mean you’re actually going to get out of your pajamas?”

“I feel like you’re being very critical when I’ve needed this time to recover,” I say. “I need to recover from all the shootings, the running, and all that other junk I would like to never think about again.”

“You act like we’ve only been here a couple of weeks. You’ve had a lot of time to recover.”

“Lane,” I say warningly.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you look very sexy in those pajama pants,” he says.

“They’re your mom’s, so thanks,” I say.

“I don’t know how I feel about that,” he says as his eyebrows furrow.

I laugh and head back for his bedroom.

*****

I pull up to a small brick building with a large painting of a dog overlapping the door. It’s neat until someone opens the door, then it looks like the dog has a big gaping hole in its face.

“I’ll run in and get him since whenever Ned gets a hold of you, he won’t shut up,” I say.

“Good plan,” Lane says, so I get out, leaving the car running.

We had decided that instead of getting Lane a different dog, we would use our dog Copper as a service dog. Since Copper had been trained to be a police dog when he was young, he already has a large range of commands and knowledge. So, a man who works with service dogs agreed to do some private training with him. It was also easier to get Copper registered as a service dog than to get on the waiting list for a trained one, so now all we need to do is teach him a few of the commands.

This is Copper’s fourth week working with Ned, and I’m already not really fond of the man. He’s amazing with Copper, but I’m not sure he likes me or maybe we have a difference of opinion. I drop Copper off in the morning and pick him up later in the day at least three times a week, and he works with him throughout the day. I miss my little Copper when he’s gone, and Lane has to remind me that I have to share Copper when he returns.

I push through the door, into the office area and walk inside to where I notice Ned rushing on by. He’s a lanky man who seems to have one speed.

“Hey, Felix!” he says sounding joyful, like he’s forgotten that the last time he saw me, he chewed me out.

“Hey,” I say with a forced smile. I do not forgive as quickly. “Copper good?”

“He’s fantastic. He picks everything up with ease, and you can tell he loves having a job. At home, I still want you guys just to be working on that follow command. He understands it pretty well, but don’t forget that when he follows, you click and reward.”

“Got it. That’s awesome to hear,” I say with a smile.

“I’ll go get Copper,” he says before disappearing through the open door. He returns after a few minutes with the black German shepherd at his side.

Copper’s tail starts going a hundred miles an hour when he sees me, and no matter how much I want to drop to my knees and pet him, I’m not allowed to say anything to him. The first time we came to pick him up, I greeted Copper with love which in Ned’s eyes is a “preposterous” thing to do. He assured me that I would ruin the dog by giving him such joyous affection as soon as I see him, so I keep my eyes on Ned and take the leash without a word to Copper.

I see Copper’s tail begin to slow as he looks up at me in devastation, black ears falling like he thinks I’m upset with him. “Thanks,” I say grudgingly.

“See how much calmer and wellbehaved he is when you greet him properly?” Ned asks.

“Totally,” I lie as I lead Copper to the door. “See you Monday.”

“Have a good night.”

“Thanks, you too,” I say as I lead Copper out to the blue four-door car. I open the back door and send him inside before getting into the driver’s seat. Then I turn to Copper who is already crawling over the middle console onto my lap. “Aw, my sweetie pie. Did you have fun today?” I coo, and his entire body wiggles as his tail whaps Lane mercilessly across the face.

Lane laughs as he pushes Copper’s tail down. “Didn’t he tell you to stop babying that dog?”

“Yeah, well…he clearly doesn’t understand love,” I say as I glance up at the building and see Ned standing in the doorway, watching my deplorable display of affection.

“Shit, shit, Ned’s watching us, Copper, get back,” I say as I shove him in the back. “Play it cool.” I wave to Ned who is staring at me with clear disapproval on his face. “I think he’s pretending like he doesn’t see me.”

“Now I’m going to have to hear all about it when I see him again,” Lane says.

“Oh well,” I say as I put the car in drive and gladly pull out of the parking lot. Even when it’s long behind me, I can still feel Ned’s stare and judgment.

I glance down at the GPS as I turn out onto Main Street. “You sure we can’t live with your mother forever?”

“I lived with her for twenty years, it was enough,” he says. “We need to get a house.”

“We do?” I ask skeptically. “Last I checked, I definitely don’t have enough money to buy a house. Or do you mean you’ll buy it, and I’ll just live in it and mooch off you?”

He nods. “Yeah, that one.”

I grin as I turn where the GPS tells me to. “Yeah…I thought so.”

“You can work it off,” he says.

“Oh, you mean like sexy time,” I say with a grin.

“No, like by cleaning and taking care of the lawn and stuff.”

“What else would I have meant by sexy time?” I ask. “You should see the way I tug on that push mower.”

He looks slightly concerned when I glance at him. “Hmm…is that supposed to be sexy? Sometimes I really can’t tell with you.”

“Good, I like you on your toes,” I say.

“Your destination is on the right…”

“Here we are,” I say as I pull into the driveway of a gorgeous one-story home. “Ooh…I like it.”

“Why? Is it just like a little hole in the ground with a tiny round door?” he asks.

I slam the car in park as I look over at him. “Ha ha. It’s not a hobbit house,” I say.

He grins. “Well, I just thought that’s where you’d be most comfortable.”

“Again, I am not the size of a hobbit.”

I notice the realtor get out of her car and wave to us, so I smile and wave back.

“Come on,” I say as I get out.

I walk around to Lane’s side of the car as he gets out. Opening the back door of the car, I call Copper out before reaching in for his leather harness which I press into Lane’s hands. We’ve only started working with the harness, so Lane’s still a little uncertain of it. He feels it over to make sure he has it facing the right way before holding it out and, without prompt, Copper pops his head through the harness. Since Lane is still trying to juggle the harness, the dog, and the leash, he fumbles for the clicker Ned gave us. When clicked, the noise signals positive reinforcement so the dog knows that he did the correct thing, and then he gets a treat.

I could help, but Copper patiently waits until Lane finds the clicker, hits it, and then gives him a treat.

“This is a mess,” Lane says as he just drops Copper’s leash. “I can never find this stupid clicker. The dog probably thinks it’s getting the click and treat for just standing there.”

Reaching down, I unhook the leash and toss it into the backseat. “What if I find a way to strap it to your belt or something? That way it’s always in the same spot, because I’ve literally seen you stick it in your pants, your coat, the treat bag, and the pouch on the harness.”

“Good idea,” he says as he reaches down to Copper and feels him over before running the strap of the harness between his legs and hooking it. “Is it on right?”

It looks good to me, so I shrug. “Yup,  let’s go,” I say as I walk up to the realtor. Today is our third time meeting and the second time she has shown us houses.

“Good afternoon,” the realtor says with a smile. She’s an older lady with gray hair that looks like a ball of cotton on her head. “I really think you guys will like this one. It has three bedrooms and two bathrooms. I think you guys were leaning toward more of an open plan and that is what this is.”

She heads for the front door, and Lane tells Copper to “follow.”’ He doesn’t miss a beat as he starts following the realtor. Whether it’s because he really understands the command or because I’m walking with them and he just wants to follow me, I don’t know. But we rave how smart he is and give him a treat which he swallows without chewing.

The realtor unlocks the door and pushes it open before walking inside. I shut it after us and look around the living room.

“The living room, dining room, and kitchen are all one big room which I think you’ll like, Lane. It gives you plenty of nice open space, and you don’t have to worry about walls or steps.”

I’ve been inside for a total of twenty seconds, and I’m already in love. “Do you think Lane and I could just walk through it?” I say. “Then you can tell us all of the specifications?”

“Of course!” she says. “I’ll step outside and check out the garage. You let me know when you’re ready.”

As soon as she leaves, I reach out for Lane’s free hand. When he feels the nudge of my hand, he holds his out and I slide my fingers between his, gripping them tightly.

“You like it, don’t you?” Lane asks as he squeezes back.

“I love it,” I admit. “As you walk in, it opens right up into the living room. They have their couch pushed back against the wall here with one of those electric fireplaces in the corner. Stone surrounds it, and there’s a wooden mantel above it. To the right of it, they have their TV which I think is really the only good spot for it. Then as you walk in further, it opens up into the dining room. There’s a table here, but to its right is this little alcove with a big bay window and a bench big enough to lie on.”

“Oh yeah, that’d be a nice spot for reading.”

“Oh…yeah…that’s what I was planning on doing there,” I say and Lane snorts.

“Oh? Have a better idea?” he asks as he waggles his eyebrows.

“Yeah, like stuff my face with your mom’s cookies.”

“Yeah…that’s definitely not where I thought you were going with it. Just really put a damper on my idea when you started with ‘stuff my face with your mom.’”

I laugh. “Gross. So…back with the tour now that I feel nauseous…here’s the kitchen. The counters are all along this wall, but there’s a bar here with stools.”

I turn to the hallway and head down it. “First room on the left is the bathroom. Pretty simple really, sink and toilet on the left and the bathtub on the right.” We leave the bathroom, and I take him into the first room which they’re using as a kid’s bedroom. “Bedroom, looks like we could use it as an office or something. The walls are a pretty nice black too.”

“Oh? Kind of like your heart?”

“That must be why I feel at home in here.” I head into the master bedroom and look around the roomy space. “It’s huge. You could fit like…five of my bedrooms as a kid in here!”

“That’s because you lived in a little hobbit hole.”

“Funny.”

He grins. “Then the second bathroom is off this room?”

“Yeah, it’s right over here,” I say as I lead him into the bathroom. “There’s a whirlpool tub.”

“Ooh.”

“And it’s big enough for like three men,” I say.

“Three?” he asks skeptically. “Why would we need three?”

“What? Who said that?”

He laughs. “I’m not worried.”

“So, what do you think?” I ask eagerly.

“If you like it, then I know I will,” he says.

I don’t know why those words make me so happy, but I can’t help but grin. “You’re so sweet.”

“No, I just want your first experience outside a hobbit hole to be a good one.”

“Oh…Oh ho…well, I’m leaving. I’m going to go tell your mom you got lost, and we’ll probably never find you again and that she might as well adopt me to take your place,” I say, and he grins as he reaches out to me.

He wraps me in his muscular arms and pulls me up against him. “You’d miss me,” he says.

“Just your muscles…them I would miss,” I say as I run my finger down one. “Sure wouldn’t be your horrid personality.”

He kisses my forehead as he squeezes me tighter. “So? You like this one the best?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s talk to her and put an offer in on it, alright?”

“Sounds good. I offer five dollars, you offer the rest?” I suggest as I look up at him.

He looks surprised. “Five? That’s a whole lot more than I thought you’d offer.”

“Oh, it was the five dollars I took from your wallet, so that’s why.”

“Of course it was.”

“I’ve been slowly replacing the money in your wallet with Monopoly money and pretty much everyone just feels bad for you, so they let you get away with it.”

“The thing is…I’m not sure that’s even a joke. You’ve been folding my money up like origami, and it’s confusing as hell.”

“It’s not origami! It’s like…blind people tricks,” I say.

“One day you’re like, the one dollar bill is the long one then the next, the ten is the long one,” he says.

“Your long one is a ten,” I say with a grin.

“I walked right into that,” he realizes before laughing. “Go get the realtor.”

“Going, going,” I say as I pull away from him. “If I don’t come back, see if this family will adopt you…I’ll take really good care of your mother!”

Leaving Lane behind, I step outside and see the realtor messing with something in the backseat of her car. I take the concrete path out to the sidewalk, and as I step onto it, someone slams into me. I must not have seen him because I’d been focused on the realtor, but the force sends me stumbling back.

“Be careful,” he says, just above a whisper as he steps past.

“Sorry about that,” I say as I look back at the guy. His back is to me, and his hood is up as he waves his hand through the air before continuing on.

For a moment I just watch him, but I don’t know why. I’m so paranoid after the shit with Red. Like someone’s going to grab me and drag me back into an alleyway to threaten me again. I need to get the stuff that happened with Red out of my mind and move on with my life. Hopefully, this house is the fresh start I need so I can stop being suspicious of everything.

“How did you like the house?” the realtor shouts as she realizes I’m outside.

I look away from the man and smile at her. “Definitely our favorite so far.”


Valentine's Vow by Helena Stone
Prologue
February 1st - Ben
“Sorry, guys, I think I’d better take this.” Ty looked up from his phone and glanced at us. 

The frown on Ty’s face combined with the concern in his voice took me by surprise, but it wasn’t until he got up from our table in the pub and made his way outside that my curiosity turned into disquiet. 

“What’s up?” Claire asked, clearly as bemused as I. “It’s not that noisy here. Surely he could have answered the call without leaving?” She smirked at me. “Unless he’s keeping secrets or planning surprises, of course.” 

I rewarded her observation with a half smile without taking my eyes off the door through which Ty had disappeared. Whatever was going on and whomever Ty was talking to, I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Ty wanting to keep me in the dark about anything. For starters, it had been blatantly obvious he hadn’t expected the call. 

When I reached for my pint, Dylan caught my eye. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he said. “Your prewedding jitters are probably getting the better of you.” 

Jacob chuckled. “It’s probably his mother. Didn’t you tell us she’s been calling several times every day?” 

“Yeah. She does.” My answer was automatic, while I tried to make up my mind whether or not I should follow Ty outside. 

“Well, then,” Jacob said, as if that explained anything. 

I forced myself to focus on our friends for a moment. Jacob, Dylan, Claire, and her boyfriend, Mark were all staring at me. 

“He wouldn’t feel the need to take a call from his mother in private,” I explained. “She does call us all the time, but her questions and suggestions are never so serious Ty wants to be alone while talking to her.” Despite my growing concern, I smiled. “Did you hear about her latest suggestion?” 

“Probably not?” Claire’s uncertain answer didn’t surprise me. Ty’s mother, Joan, had come up with an astounding number of weird ideas ever since we announced our wedding. We’d indulged some, embraced one or two others, and discarded everything else. Her latest proposal had amused us greatly before we’d dismissed it. 

“She thinks we should spend the night before the wedding in separate houses and definitely not in the same bed.” I laughed as I remembered her shocked expression when we told her there was no way we’d stick to that particular tradition. 

“What’s so bad about that? Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?” Claire sounded serious, but her lips trembled, and her eyes sparkled before she burst out laughing too. 

“Stupid rules like that are just another reason why weddings don’t make sense.” I wasn’t surprised to hear those words from Jacob. His sarcasm about love and marriage in particular had mellowed quite a bit since he’d connected with Dylan, and he’d been unwavering in his support of Ty and me whenever we needed a willing ear or a second opinion. But deep down, he was still the same cynical Jacob I’d first met in college. 

“Love doesn’t make sense if you think about it. So why would weddings be any different?” Dylan asked. 

Jacob squinted at Dylan and opened his mouth to share what would almost certainly be a sarcastic comeback, but my attention drifted back to the door. There was still no sign of Ty. 

What’s going on? What’s taking so long? 

I wasn’t sure why I was so edgy. Ty could be talking to anybody about literally anything, but I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. 

“Sorry, I’m just going to see where he is.” I barely glanced at our friends as I spoke, my gaze still glued to the entrance, and if they reacted, I didn’t hear it. 

I stood and had taken a few steps when the door opened and Ty walked in, his features slack and his eyes wide but unfocused. 

Fuck. 

Obviously, I’d been right to be worried. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked as soon as Ty reached me. 

“You’re not going to believe this. I don’t know what we’re going to do now. We’ve only got two weeks.” The words exploding from his mouth explained nothing but cranked my anxiety right up. 

“Ty?” I waited until he looked at me. “You’re not making sense. You need to calm down and tell us what’s wrong.” 

“Wait.” Claire, who’d apparently followed me when I got up, interrupted before Ty could answer me. “I’ve got a feeling this is going to call for reinforcements. Give me a minute.” 

Before I could object and tell her I didn’t want to wait, she stalked off in the direction of the bar. 

I focussed on Ty, who looked shell-shocked, as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.

“Come.” I reached for his hand and squeezed it until he looked at me, his eyes still wide, although anger appeared to be replacing the earlier confusion in his gaze. I walked back to the table, pulling Ty along. “Sit.” 

I returned to my chair, and a heartbeat later, Ty lowered himself until he sat next to me again, without relinquishing my hand. If anything, his grip on my fingers got stronger. My earlier unease had blossomed into deep-seated concern. Ty’s reactions to unexpected situations could be a bit extreme at times, but I’d never seen him as distraught as he clearly was at that moment. 

Torn between demanding answers and knowing it made sense to wait until Claire was back—if only to spare Ty the ordeal of having to repeat his story, whatever it turned out to be—I glanced over my shoulder. I heaved a sigh of relief when I spotted Claire approaching us, carrying a tray holding six tumblers containing an amber liquid I suspected was whiskey. 

“Drink some of this.” Claire placed a glass in front of Ty as soon as she reached us. “I haven’t seen you this shook up in years, not since that bastard abandoned you.” 

“Thanks.” Ty’s voice was soft, barely a whisper. He reached for his glass and drained half of the double shot. 

I copied his movements, convinced that I would need the liquid courage in a matter of seconds. 

“What’s wrong?” Jacob asked when Ty remained silently staring at the table. “Surely it can’t be that bad.” 

Jacob’s question almost made me smile. After all, he was normally in a league of his own when it came to pessimism. His words did manage to pull Ty out of his thoughts, though.

“You’re right. It’s not that bad. It’s worse.” Ty turned to me. “I’m so sorry. I’m not sure we can fix this.” 

Apprehension made my skin itch. “Why are you sorry, and what needs fixing?” My tone of voice was much harsher than I meant it to be. 

“That was the hotel,” Ty said. 

The words “what hotel” burned on my lips until the realization sank in that he could only mean one place. 

“What did they say?” I knew I didn’t want to hear the answer with as much certainty as I knew I had no choice. 

“That storm last night destroyed part of their roof. They’re flooded and are closed for renovations.” Ty took another sip from his whiskey. “For a month.” 

“A month?” I almost shouted the question. “But we’re getting married in two weeks. What are we supposed to do now? Did they come up with an alternative location?” 

Ty shrugged. “They assured me they tried, but that every conceivable venue in Dublin is booked and has been for months.” Ty’s eyes glistened when he met my gaze. “I’m so sorry. We can still get married, but I guess there won’t be a party.” 

“Nonsense,” Claire stated. “I’m sure we can come up with a plan if we just put our minds to it.” 

“Of course, getting married on Valentine’s Day doesn’t help.” Ty continued as if Claire hadn’t interrupted him, sounding utterly miserable about what had seemed like an inspired, not to mention exceedingly, romantic, idea when he’d first come up with it. 

“Pfft.” Claire waved her hand around to strengthen her disdain. “Another date wouldn’t have made a difference. There are never spare wedding venues available. Everybody I know takes at least one year to organize the event, and even then, they don’t always manage to get their preferred location. Trust me. Any other day of the year, two weeks wouldn’t be enough time to relocate a wedding party either.” 

“So, we’re fucked?” My mind spun as it tried to work out whether or not we might be able to accommodate the fifty people we’d invited in our house, only to instantly come to the conclusion that wouldn’t work. 

“That’s what it looks like.” Ty’s voice dripped with misery. 

“Isn’t getting married the important part of the day?” Dylan asked, not unreasonably. “I mean, I understand your disappointment, but you will still be married men by the end of Valentine’s Day.” 

“I know,” Ty said. “And I’m sure I’ll get used to the idea it will be a different sort of event than the one we planned. But it won’t be the same.” 

He was right. It wouldn’t be the same. Celebrating our wedding and our love with our friends and what little family we had between us was as important to us as the exchange of vows. Our connection and our lifelong commitment to each other wouldn’t be in doubt, even without the official ceremony. Bringing everybody who was important to us together to mark that commitment had been the focal point of our plans. 

“Nonsense,” Claire stated again. 

“He’s right.” I glared at Claire, both frustrated and angry that she didn’t take our disappointment seriously. She was supposed to be Ty’s best friend. A little support would go a long way. 

“I meant,” Claire continued, undeterred, “that of course there will be a party. It won’t be the exact same as what you’ve been planning, but it will be good. Leave it to me.” 

“What?” Ty and I exclaimed at the same time. 

“I’ve got a plan.” Claire looked and sounded smug. “And I’m not going to tell you what it is. You just leave it all to me, and you’ll find out what I have in mind on the day. The last thing you two need is the added stress of having to start your planning from scratch. I’ll do it.” 

“But...?” 

“Do you trust me?” Claire asked before Ty could finish his question. 

“I guess,” he said with obvious reluctance. 

I was glad she didn’t ask me the same question. While I’d come to adore Claire and had no doubt that she loved Ty and only wanted the best for him, I also knew her well enough to be wary of her impulsive nature. 

“Good. That’s settled, then.” Claire smiled brightly. “You two make sure you get to the registry office on time. We’ll take care of everything else.” She indicated herself, Mark, Dylan, and Jacob with a broad sweep of her arm. 

“We will?” Dylan asked. 

“We will.” Claire scowled at him. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Dylan chuckled. 

I glanced at Ty who shrugged at me. 

A voice in the back of my head screamed not to hand over control of our day to Claire, but logic told me that we didn’t have a hope of coming up with a new idea in only two weeks. If she thought she could pull something off, we had to trust her to do just that. As much as I was disinclined to believe in miracles, I knew without a shadow of a doubt she would never knowingly disappoint or hurt Ty.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked. 

Claire tapped the side of her nose with one finger. “That’s for me to know and for you not to worry about.” 

I opened my mouth to tell her that wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t expect us to happily sign up for a wedding day over which we had no control. Ty captured my attention before I could speak. 

“Leave it.” He gave me a weak smile. “Whatever she can pull together has to be better than not having a party at all.” He turned to Claire. “No offense meant.” 

“None taken.” She grinned at him. 

I looked from Ty to Claire as various reasons why Claire’s idea unsettled me churned in my head. Then the ridiculousness of the situation filtered through. Ty and I had reversed roles. Normally he was the one who worried about all the details, while I was perfectly happy to leave things up to chance. 

Look at us now. 

If Ty was happy to trust Claire, I wouldn’t argue. Besides, no matter what happened, I’d still marry the man I loved more than life itself in two weeks, and in the end, that was all that mattered.


Sticky Fingers by Davidson King
“Summer storms, gotta love them.” Maddox had a look of childlike wonder. “I loved storms as a kid. One summer my family and I were staying at this cabin on the lake, and a storm like this hit and all the power went out. My dad had flashlights because he wouldn’t let us use candles for fear we’d burn the place down.” The whole time Maddox was telling me the story he didn’t take his eyes away from the flashes of light, nor did he jump like I did at the booming thunder.

“My brother Evan screamed ‘Flashlight hide-and-seek,’ and we ran.” He laughed. “He would close his eyes and count and we all had to hide. When we were in our spot, we shut the light off. It was scary and exciting. We had to hope a flash of lightning wouldn’t give away our locations. Luna always won, but it was the best time.”

Rain pelted the windows and Maddox shook off his memory as he looked down at me. “Sorry, I don’t know why I overshared like that.” His eyes flitted around the room, everywhere but meeting my gaze. “How about that tour of the house now that you can’t go into the garden?”

He wasn’t looking at me, and I didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed he’d told me such a sweet story about his family.

“Tour sounds great.”


Josh Lanyon
Bestselling author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON has been called "the Agatha Christie of gay mystery."

Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).

The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.

Josh is married and they live in Southern California.


Alice Winters
Alice Winters started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to turn her ideas into written words. She loves writing a variety of things from romance and comedy to action. She also enjoys reading, horseback riding, and spending time with her pets.



Helena Stone
Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.

The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.

Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.

Davidson King
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.

When she's not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.

If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she'd tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you're afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.


Josh Lanyon
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EMAIL: josh.lanyon@sbcglobal.net 

Alice Winters
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Helena Stone
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EMAIL: helenastoneauthor@gmail.com 

Davidson King
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EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com 



I Buried a Witch by Josh Lanyon

A Villain for Christmas by Alice Winters
A Light in the Darkness by Alice Winters

Valentine's Vow by Helena Stone

Sticky Fingers by Davidson King

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