Summary:
Original Review December 2019:
A hotel room with a faulty heater.
A holiday grump who's sure he's straight.
A single guy full of Christmas cheer.
Erik Josef is a recently divorced businessman with one goal: wrap up his last project of the year so he can spend the holidays in the tropics. While waiting at an airport bar, he encounters Seth Cobb, a chatty young travel writer.
After a huge snowstorm grounds all flights, a mix-up at the Williamsville Inn leads to them sharing a room.
Will a mugful of Seth’s hot cocoa and the Christmas magic swirling amidst all the snow in upstate New York be enough to melt Erik’s icy exterior?
Seth is adorable and Erik . . . well I warred between strangling him and smothering him a big Mama Bear hug. All kinds of holiday feels to get you in the spirit of the season.
Okay so that's a short review but honestly, it says everything that made me love Brigham Vaughn's Snowstorms and Second Chances. When I first met Erik, I kept thinking how am I suppose to cheer for this guy? Then fate intervenes and he actually got snippier and I wanted to smack him one but when fate raises elements to a new level and Erik finally takes a minute to breathe, you begin to see a softer side, a nicer side, and you realizes he is actually human underneath that holiday bah-humbugging gruff. I don't know that I could give him the chances that Seth does but I'm glad he did.
As a lifelong, born and raised Wisconsinite, I can tell you that snowstorms are unpredictable, they pop up with very little to no warning sometimes. Heck I remember more than once when the TV weather morons hype up wicked snow for a week and then the day of infamy arrives they claim weather patterns shift and went more North or stayed South only to find yourself buried in 20+" 24 hours later. Brigham Vaughn creates the setting as someone who knows snow. The weather may mostly be just a setup for getting the main characters in the same close proximity but when it can alter plans so drastically as it does in Snowstorms, Mother Nature becomes a character in itself. One of the things I loved(and yes I laughed and maybe even pointed and said "You had it coming, Erik") about Seth was his preparedness versus Erik's complete lack of readiness and nothing showed that more than in his choice(or lack thereof) of footwear. Again, a great element spoken most likely from experience.
Whether you believe in fate, the magic of the season, or right place right time the end result is the same: the snowstorm is the best thing to happen to Erik and Seth but will they let what they discover continue once Mother Nature lets up? I think you know what's coming: You'll have to read for yourself to find out. Trust me, you will love every minute spent at the Williamsville Inn.
RATING:
Okay so that's a short review but honestly, it says everything that made me love Brigham Vaughn's Snowstorms and Second Chances. When I first met Erik, I kept thinking how am I suppose to cheer for this guy? Then fate intervenes and he actually got snippier and I wanted to smack him one but when fate raises elements to a new level and Erik finally takes a minute to breathe, you begin to see a softer side, a nicer side, and you realizes he is actually human underneath that holiday bah-humbugging gruff. I don't know that I could give him the chances that Seth does but I'm glad he did.
As a lifelong, born and raised Wisconsinite, I can tell you that snowstorms are unpredictable, they pop up with very little to no warning sometimes. Heck I remember more than once when the TV weather morons hype up wicked snow for a week and then the day of infamy arrives they claim weather patterns shift and went more North or stayed South only to find yourself buried in 20+" 24 hours later. Brigham Vaughn creates the setting as someone who knows snow. The weather may mostly be just a setup for getting the main characters in the same close proximity but when it can alter plans so drastically as it does in Snowstorms, Mother Nature becomes a character in itself. One of the things I loved(and yes I laughed and maybe even pointed and said "You had it coming, Erik") about Seth was his preparedness versus Erik's complete lack of readiness and nothing showed that more than in his choice(or lack thereof) of footwear. Again, a great element spoken most likely from experience.
Whether you believe in fate, the magic of the season, or right place right time the end result is the same: the snowstorm is the best thing to happen to Erik and Seth but will they let what they discover continue once Mother Nature lets up? I think you know what's coming: You'll have to read for yourself to find out. Trust me, you will love every minute spent at the Williamsville Inn.
RATING:
Summary:
A hotel room with an overactive heater.
A rising star struggling to write a Christmas song.
Song lyrics written in secret.
Will Johnson is shocked to discover his hotel room window overlooks the courtyard patio of one of his favorite gay singers, Rex Garland. Even more amazing, Rex seems interested in Will too.
When Will overhears Rex struggling to write an original Christmas song, he is struck by a flash of inspiration and drafts an anonymous note with song lyrics. Will is sure nothing will come of it, but the Christmas magic swirling amidst all the snow in upstate New York is about to change both their lives forever.
This funny, sweet, and heart-warming love story about a boy-next-door and the celebrity of his dreams is set in the Williamsville Inn world.
Snowstorms and Second Chances by Brigham Vaughn
“All joking aside, I guess we’ll have to hope that Christmas romance pans out for you after all,” Seth said a few minutes later.
“Guess so,” Erik said absently as he stared at the TV screen. He glanced at Seth. “For you too.”
“Thanks. Maybe that should have been my birthday wish last week.”
“You had a birthday last week?”
Seth nodded. “On the nineteenth. I spent it in Dresden. I was there to write a piece about the Striezelmarkt—the Christmas market—that’s been going on for over 600 years.”
“I’ve heard of those,” Erik said. “They’re all over Germany, right?”
“Yes. This is supposed to be one of the best though. There’s a carousel and the world’s biggest nutcracker. Plus, hundreds of booths filled with handmade crafts, pottery, candles, toys, wooden ornaments, and food. It’s incredible. Twinkling lights everywhere and the whole atmosphere feels festive.” By the end, Seth’s serious expression had melted away and was replaced by his now-familiar happy smile. He glowed when he talked about travel.
“It does sound incredible,” Erik agreed. “I can think of worse places to spend my birthday.”
“Oh, me too,” Seth agreed. “And I met a nice strapping German man by the name of Hans to celebrate it with. My German isn’t great, and his English was a bit broken, but we managed.” Seth gave him a little wink.
“I can’t say spending my birthday with Hans would be my choice,” Erik said drily. “But good for you.”
Seth shivered. “Is it just me or is it getting colder in here again?”
“It does seem like it.” Erik stood, then walked over to fiddle with the heater controls. “I’ll try cranking it up a little more.”
“I wonder if there are any extra blankets in the room?” Seth said as he walked past. He opened the closet doors. “Hmm. Nothing in here. Maybe in the dresser?”
“I didn’t notice anything when I put my clothes in there but check the bottom two drawers—I didn’t look in them. If you don’t find any blankets, I’ll have a talk with someone at the desk in the morning,” Erik said. He doubted a maintenance person was on hand twenty-four hours, especially in this weather.
“Or we could share body heat,” Seth said with a grin as he returned to his spot on the bed.
“Are you sure you didn’t get me liquored up so you could take advantage of me?” Erik asked, but he kept his voice light and teasing.
Seth shot him a dirty look. “No. Of course not. But the offer stands if you need it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Erik grabbed his toiletry kit and a pair of pajamas out of the dresser. “I’m going to shower. Alone. And get ready for bed unless you need the bathroom before I head in there.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Erik fled to the bathroom as if Seth’s offer to help him out was hot on his heels.
Snowflakes and Show Lyrics by Hank Edwards
The Williamsville Inn had seen better days. Most likely sometime back in the 1960s. The early 1960s.
Will entered his room after a long first day on the job, and the heat nearly made him pass out in the entryway. It had to be ninety degrees! He desperately pulled off clothing as he searched for a thermostat, but by the time he was down to socks and his boxer briefs, he’d had no luck.
“So I’ve died and gone to Hell, and this is what I have to look forward to for eternity?” Will muttered.
The heating/air conditioning unit under the window—a long metal contraption with a number of vents set at an upward angle—made a thumping noise followed by a quiet hiss. Will sidestepped to the end of the bed and peered down at the thing. A stamp with the brand name Rest Easy was affixed to one corner, and warm air gusting out of the vents blew the sheer curtains away from the windowsill.
Will approached the unit and discovered a small metal flap on a hinge at one end. Underneath was a small knob with a faded line painted on it. The knob was turned all the way over to COOL, and Will sighed. No more cool setting to try, apparently.
“So much for resting easy, I guess.”
He pulled the flimsy white curtains aside and inspected the window. Happiness filled him when he discovered the age of the hotel at last worked in his favor, and one side of the window was a slider he could open for some fresh air. The locking mechanism was old, however, and took some struggle before it finally released and allowed him to shove the window open with a squeal of the metal frames scraping together.
Will closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. He released it slowly and opened his eyes to look down into the courtyard. His room was on the top floor of the three-story building, and the first-floor rooms across from his all had small patios outside a sliding door. Metal café tables and chairs were provided for each room, and all of it was covered in snow. A quartet of lights in the style of old streetlamps, complete with large round frosted glass shades, provided gentle illumination to the area.
Just as he was wondering if the first-floor rooms cost more because of the tiny patios, one of the sliding doors almost directly across from his window opened, and a man stepped out.
He was tall, with dark hair and a matching full beard. A flannel shirt covered a white tee that hugged his broad chest and flat stomach. The cuffs of tight black jeans had been tucked into black Doc Martens. Something about the man seemed familiar, and Will guessed he’d seen him around the hotel. Someone like that would have definitely caught Will’s eye.
But then the man turned to call to someone still inside the room, and the sound of his voice tripped recognition in Will’s brain.
Rex Garland.
Will sucked in a breath and stared down into the courtyard, watching Rex pace around the cafe table, leaving a path in the snow. His hands were stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, and he seemed to be muttering to himself.
A burning in his chest reminded Will to let out his breath and pull another one in.
Rex Garland was staying at his hotel. Would he be here for the entire run of his appearances at the Side-Eye? Will’s heart pounded, and a fresh sheen of sweat covered his body. Even the bottoms of his feet were damp!
A man joined Rex out on the patio, and the two of them spoke in low tones. Will watched, lips slightly parted as he absently rubbed a hand through the fine hair covering his chest. He couldn’t make out any words of their conversation until Rex threw his hands in the air and said, “I know I need to get it done, okay? Back the fuck off.”
The other man held his hands up in a sign of surrender and went back inside the room.
Rex’s paces around the small café table picked up speed, and Will could hear him talking to himself. He hated to see his favorite singer in such a state.
Suddenly, Rex stopped and stared across the courtyard. Will pressed his forehead to the glass in an effort to see straight down, but he wasn’t able to. When he looked back, he discovered Rex looking right up at his window. Realizing he must look pretty fucking creepy standing in front of his window in his underwear, Will dropped to the floor and lay there for a moment listening to the heating unit rattle and hiss.
Shit. Now what?
Will rolled onto his belly and did an Army crawl away from the window until he’d reached the far side of the bed. He got up and hurried into the bathroom where he sat on the lid of the toilet with his head in his hands.
Rex Garland was staying at his hotel.
Rex Garland was having a hard time with something and had shouted at one of his team.
Rex Garland had more than likely seen Will standing in his boxer briefs at the window and watching him.
His best friend Carter was going to love this story.
The Williamsville Inn had seen better days. Most likely sometime back in the 1960s. The early 1960s.
Will entered his room after a long first day on the job, and the heat nearly made him pass out in the entryway. It had to be ninety degrees! He desperately pulled off clothing as he searched for a thermostat, but by the time he was down to socks and his boxer briefs, he’d had no luck.
“So I’ve died and gone to Hell, and this is what I have to look forward to for eternity?” Will muttered.
The heating/air conditioning unit under the window—a long metal contraption with a number of vents set at an upward angle—made a thumping noise followed by a quiet hiss. Will sidestepped to the end of the bed and peered down at the thing. A stamp with the brand name Rest Easy was affixed to one corner, and warm air gusting out of the vents blew the sheer curtains away from the windowsill.
Will approached the unit and discovered a small metal flap on a hinge at one end. Underneath was a small knob with a faded line painted on it. The knob was turned all the way over to COOL, and Will sighed. No more cool setting to try, apparently.
“So much for resting easy, I guess.”
He pulled the flimsy white curtains aside and inspected the window. Happiness filled him when he discovered the age of the hotel at last worked in his favor, and one side of the window was a slider he could open for some fresh air. The locking mechanism was old, however, and took some struggle before it finally released and allowed him to shove the window open with a squeal of the metal frames scraping together.
Will closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. He released it slowly and opened his eyes to look down into the courtyard. His room was on the top floor of the three-story building, and the first-floor rooms across from his all had small patios outside a sliding door. Metal café tables and chairs were provided for each room, and all of it was covered in snow. A quartet of lights in the style of old streetlamps, complete with large round frosted glass shades, provided gentle illumination to the area.
Just as he was wondering if the first-floor rooms cost more because of the tiny patios, one of the sliding doors almost directly across from his window opened, and a man stepped out.
He was tall, with dark hair and a matching full beard. A flannel shirt covered a white tee that hugged his broad chest and flat stomach. The cuffs of tight black jeans had been tucked into black Doc Martens. Something about the man seemed familiar, and Will guessed he’d seen him around the hotel. Someone like that would have definitely caught Will’s eye.
But then the man turned to call to someone still inside the room, and the sound of his voice tripped recognition in Will’s brain.
Rex Garland.
Will sucked in a breath and stared down into the courtyard, watching Rex pace around the cafe table, leaving a path in the snow. His hands were stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, and he seemed to be muttering to himself.
A burning in his chest reminded Will to let out his breath and pull another one in.
Rex Garland was staying at his hotel. Would he be here for the entire run of his appearances at the Side-Eye? Will’s heart pounded, and a fresh sheen of sweat covered his body. Even the bottoms of his feet were damp!
A man joined Rex out on the patio, and the two of them spoke in low tones. Will watched, lips slightly parted as he absently rubbed a hand through the fine hair covering his chest. He couldn’t make out any words of their conversation until Rex threw his hands in the air and said, “I know I need to get it done, okay? Back the fuck off.”
The other man held his hands up in a sign of surrender and went back inside the room.
Rex’s paces around the small café table picked up speed, and Will could hear him talking to himself. He hated to see his favorite singer in such a state.
Suddenly, Rex stopped and stared across the courtyard. Will pressed his forehead to the glass in an effort to see straight down, but he wasn’t able to. When he looked back, he discovered Rex looking right up at his window. Realizing he must look pretty fucking creepy standing in front of his window in his underwear, Will dropped to the floor and lay there for a moment listening to the heating unit rattle and hiss.
Shit. Now what?
Will rolled onto his belly and did an Army crawl away from the window until he’d reached the far side of the bed. He got up and hurried into the bathroom where he sat on the lid of the toilet with his head in his hands.
Rex Garland was staying at his hotel.
Rex Garland was having a hard time with something and had shouted at one of his team.
Rex Garland had more than likely seen Will standing in his boxer briefs at the window and watching him.
His best friend Carter was going to love this story.
Her books range from short stories to novellas. They explore gay, lesbian, and polyamorous romance in contemporary settings.
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Hank Edwards has been writing gay fiction for more than twenty years. He has published over thirty novels and dozens of short stories. His writing crosses many sub-genres, including romance, rom-com, contemporary, paranormal, suspense, mystery, and wacky comedy. He has written a number of series such as the suspenseful Up to Trouble, funny and spooky Critter Catchers, Old West historical horror of Venom Valley, and erotic and funny Fluffers, Inc. No matter what genre he writes, Hank likes to keep things steamy and heartfelt. He was born and still lives in a northwest suburb of the Motor City, Detroit, Michigan, where he shares a home with his partner of over 20 years and their two cats.
Hank Edwards
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WEBSITE / NEWSLETTER / AUDIBLE
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INSTAGRAM / B&N / FB GROUP / AMAZON
Snowstorms and Second Chances by Brigham Vaughn
Series
