Summary:
Snowed Inn
Brodie Lewis has been in love with Gabriel, his best friend, for years. The problem? It’s an impossible love. After all, they’re practically family.
With his dad working long hours to make ends meet, Brodie had been lonely growing up, until the day a boy from his neighborhood invited him over for dinner. The boy’s house had been so different to his own, filled with people and warmth, and Brodie would be forever grateful for how the Conley family treated him as one of their own.
When feelings beyond friendship stirred in Brodie, he’d tried to ignore them. Gabriel and his family were everything to him. How could he ever confess? And so, looking to move on from his first love, Brodie attends the speed dating night at The Retreat Hotel. It was a good plan, if only Gabriel wasn’t the one to offer him a ride to the venue.
Gabriel Conley only wants Brodie to be happy, which is why he’s willing to lock away his feelings yet again and drive Brodie through the snow to the dating event. Brodie smiles the most when surrounded by Gabriel’s family, and Gabriel never wants to ruin that with a selfish love confession. So instead, he’ll stay at Brodie’s side as a friend.
When an avalanche cuts the hotel off from the outside world, and Gabriel and Brodie find themselves stuck together and closer than ever, it’s time for some truths to be revealed.
Can the oblivious childhood friends finally understand each other’s feelings, and confess their love for each other?
All the books In the Snowed Inn collection are standalone stories and can be read in any order.
Summary:
Takoda Outreach Center #6
Jonathan watched all of his friends fall in love, get married, and grow their families. All he’s ever wanted is a relationship as wonderful as the one his parents have always had. Is it possible that he passed up a chance at happiness years ago when he let his fears of pursuing his best friend’s little brother blind him to what could be?
Anson has been in love with Jonathon since the first time he laid eyes on him. At the time, he knew the age gap was too much for the older man, so he flirted hard but never pushed for anything more. When his career path took him out of Takoda, he knew he’d be back someday and hoped that Jonathon would still be on the market.
After the death of his childhood best friend leaves him raising her three-year-old, Anson is home, but is he ready to claim the one man he’s never been able—or wanted—to forget? With the sound of bells in the air and mistletoe dangling from the ceiling, these two men are finally ready and willing for the magic of Christmas to give them their hearts desire, a little family of their own—together.
Welcome to Takoda Outreach Center. Prepare yourself for open hearts, a full belly, and all the love you can handle. In this sixth and final book, check in with all your favorite characters after eight years of living their best lives.
Summary:
Mated to His Reindeer
Omega reindeer shifter Davy Frost is all for peace between the two reindeer herds that live in Shiverfall and Winterpoint. The feud has gone on too long, it’s silly. Of course he wants a truce—Davy just wishes he wasn’t the one picked for the arranged mating designed to make that happen.
Alpha reindeer shifter Lachlan Blizzard wants peace and quiet. He is beginning his teaching career and has a gig as a hockey coach that he has dreamed about his whole life. There’s no reason to settle down with a mate. His herd disagrees and selects him for the arranged mating and now he has no choice but to give up all he’s worked for to mate a stranger.
Davy and Lachlan agree to go along with the mating for the sake of their groups, in a year or so, when the feud is forgotten they can go their separate ways. It all sounds great until that pesky little thing called love shows up and throws all their plans out into the snow.
Love at Frost Bite: Davy is a sweet with heat M/M mpreg shifter Christmas romance featuring an arranged mating, forced proximity, snow…lots of snow, a cabin in the woods where the kindling isn’t the only spark, tinsel, true love, Christmas magic, and a guaranteed happy ever after. If you like your shifters horn-y, your omegas hawt, and your HEAs complete with true mates and a bundle of joy, one-click book one in the highly anticipated multi-author series Mated to His Reindeer today.
Summary:
The single dad and the rootless vagabond. Expect: a shy, hunky firefighter and an ethereal dancer down on his luck. A sizzling contemporary MM age-gap holiday romance. Mild hurt-comfort, found family, and friends-to-lovers galore.
Firefighter Logan Halliwell doesn’t have much time for romance. A relentless work-life-balance and an expensive divorce have sucked the festive cheer from his days. All he wants is to be a good dad. A fun dad. Especially at Christmas.
He doesn’t know how lonely he is until he meets Remy Collins, a gorgeous fire dancer at a sultry summer festival.
Their instant connection blows his mind, but their fleeting encounter is over before Logan can catch his breath. One kiss and they’re strangers again. That wicked brush of lips nothing but a dream.
Long months pass. Then fate brings them together again at the summit of Firefly Hill, and absence has only strengthened the current thrumming between them. The heat. The precious chance of true happiness they both so desperately need.
Only fear stands in their way.
And Logan’s dangerous job.
It takes a tough lesson and a dose of winter magic to learn that loving each other means Christmas all year round.
Christmas On Firefly Hill is an MM holiday romance, featuring a burly single dad firefighter, and a vagabond dancer/jewellery maker. Delivering a guaranteed HEA, all the Christmas feels, and a hefty dose of British snark.
Summary:
Stories of Us #2.2
A little Christmas catch up with Tristan and Nathaniel, Teo and Michael and the rest of the gang, as they celebrate Christmas and start building their traditions together as a family.
Enjoy Tristan's attempt to give Nathaniel a Christmas as he has never had and a little peek at what is to come for Cris and Lain.
***This Is Not A Standalone***
9,000 Words Christmas Story, featuring characters from the Stories of Us Series.
Random Tales of Christmas 2022
Stuck with You by Meredith Russell
Chapter One
“There it is,” Gabriel said of The Retreat.
“There it is,” Brodie repeated and leaned on the car door. He gazed out of the window.
We’re actually here.
The rustic four-story inn dominated the landscape as they pulled onto the access road. Interior and exterior lights illuminated the area in front of them with a warm, welcoming glow, and the snow glistened, adding an air of magic along their path.
Brodie wondered what it might be like to see the hotel in the daylight. There was supposedly a gazebo, a focal point for many a wedding, a pond that often froze solid, allowing the hotel’s guests to skate on it, and there was also supposed to be a hot spring somewhere.
Sounds nice.
Gabriel laughed and turned down the stereo. “I thought you’d be more excited.” He glanced over at Brodie, then returned his attention to the road.
Brodie sat straight and ran his hand through his hair, pulling his bangs back from his forehead. “You did? Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know, because you insisted on coming out here despite the cold, dark, long-ass drive.”
“And who offered to take me on that ‘cold, dark, long-ass drive’, huh? And it’s only long because you drive like your grandma. Actually, no, slower than your grandma.”
“But, snow,” Gabriel pointed out.
It had been snowing on and off the last couple of days, and with more forecast for over the weekend, Brodie had wondered if he should call off tonight. The speed dating event wasn’t what he considered to be high priority and, honestly, he was all for a real excuse not to attend. It was one of those situations where he wanted to go somewhere but also, he didn’t.
“Pfft.” Brodie snorted and rolled his head, looking at Gabriel. He both appreciated and resented having his friend with him, as well as the fact, when it came down to it, tonight was as much about Gabriel as it was himself. “Do you remember when she, Grandma Elle, took us and two of your sisters to the fair in the next town over? Were we fifteen?” Brodie scratched his eyebrow. “I think we were fifteen. Whatever.” He waved his hand, dismissing the trivial detail. “Her driving was more thrilling than any rollercoaster.” He remembered fondly. He noticed the dimples in Gabriel’s cheeks and his chest tightened.
Their gazes met and Brodie wanted to melt into the warmth of Gabriel’s hazel eyes.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “So…” he hesitated. “Are you excited?”
Brodie sighed. “Of course. And a little scared. Maybe a lot scared.”
“Speed dating,” Gabriel mused. “If you’re uncomfortable with it, then why come here?” He slowed the car as they reached the parking area.
“Probably because it does make me uncomfortable. It’s like I’m, you know, challenging myself.” At least that was the reason he was peddling to both Gabriel and himself.
Gabriel looked over his shoulder, then reversed into a free spot. “You’re so weird.”
“I guess I am.”
Gabriel cut the engine. “Here we are.” He ducked his head and eyed the hotel. “How did you hear about this dating thing anyway?”
“A friend came to one of the LGBT nights last year. They thought I might be interested.”
“‘Friend’?” Gabriel quirked his eyebrow.
“Yes, friend.”
“A college friend?”
Brodie sighed. Was Gabriel teasing him? “Yes. A college friend. Believe it or not I do have other friends apart from you.”
“I didn’t say that. If anything, I’m kind of proud.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.
“Thanks, Dad,” Brodie said with a chuckle.
“So, are they a good friend, this friend? Are the two of you close?”
“I guess we are. They’re late to college life too so we got talking one day,” he added, “But before you get any funny ideas, they’re not my type, and even if they were, I’m not theirs. Maybe if I didn’t have a penis—”
“Okay, I get it.” Gabriel interrupted. “Save talk of your penis for your date, dates, whatever.” He nodded toward the building and Brodie followed his gaze, noting the people heading inside. “So, why did they think you’d be interested? Are you that desperate to find a boyfriend?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” He fiddled with his bangs. “It seemed a good idea when it came up over beers.” Brodie sat forward and stared through the front window. “Oh, man. It really is scary.”
“You’ll be fine,” Gabriel said. He squeezed Brodie’s knee gently. “And if not, I’ll be here waiting for you.”
“I know you said you’d wait, but you really don’t have to.” He appreciated the ride, but not the thought of Gabriel hanging around by himself.
“Uh huh. And, instead, you plan on getting back, how? Or are you hoping for a better offer to come your way?”
“What? No. No. Even if there is someone I like, first, they’d have to like me too, and second, just, no. This is about possibilities, broadening my horizon.”
“So, not about getting laid?”
“No.” His voice cracked.
Gabriel chuckled. “I forget how old-fashioned you are sometimes.” “I’m not old-fashioned.” Gabriel nodded. “I know. I just mean you’re way more responsible than me. You know, have actual responsibilities.”
“And you don’t?” Brodie knitted his eyebrows together. He didn’t like how Gabriel often put himself down in order to compliment Brodie.
“Helping my dad in the store isn’t the same as what you do.” Gabriel shook his head. “Anyway, we already agreed I’d wait for you. And you still plan to come stay with me until Christmas, right?”
Brodie nodded.
“Good.” He lifted his hips and pulled out his cell phone. “I have my phone. I threw some snacks on the back seat. I have my tablet if I want to work, a book if not. And when I get bored and cold and my phone runs out of charge, I’ll head inside. I’m set. Promise.”
“Okay.” Even though it was Gabriel who had made the offer to bring him out here, Brodie felt a little guilty.
“But if you do find a reason you don’t want me hanging around.” He held up his phone. “Text me and I’ll leave your stuff at reception.”
With a sigh, Brodie shook his head. “Not going to happen.” He dropped the passenger visor down and checked himself in the mirror. He tensed his jaw as he teased the parting of his dark hair. “Maybe I should have shaved.” He poked his cheek.
“You look fine. Is that what you want to hear?”
“What?”
“You’re fishing for compliments.”
Brodie widened his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It is kind of nice to hear though.
“Sure.” Gabriel sank lower in his seat, stared out of the driver side window as he assured him, “You look good.”
Warmth spread through Brodie’s chest. It had been a simple compliment, but it made him happy. After all, he’d spent far too long staring into his closet planning his outfit for the evening. In the end, he’d settled for a dark woolen sweater and smart black jeans.
“Just go already,” Gabriel said. “You don’t want to be late.”
“Fine.” Brodie checked himself once more and flipped up the visor. “I’ll see you later.” He opened the door. Cold air rushed in, and he tensed his shoulders before getting out. He straightened his long gray coat, then leaned down, asking, “Wish me luck?”
Gabriel nodded. “Of course. Good luck.”
Brodie lingered.
What am I waiting for? It wasn’t as if Gabriel was going to tell him not to go.
Gabriel folded his arms. “Hurry up and shut the door. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“Sorry,” Brodie said. “I’m going. See you later.”
“Yeah.”
Brodie shut the car door and, watching his footing, made his way across to the hotel. When he reached the entrance, he glanced back at the parked car.
Come on. You can’t chicken out now.
Taking a deep breath, he entered the building.
After getting instructions from the lady on reception, Brodie made his way through the connecting corridors toward the event room. All the time, unease swelled in his stomach. Spotting signs to the restrooms, he veered from the path and inside, heading straight into a stall. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his head back against the door. Anxiety had gotten the better of him. He felt sick.
He closed his eyes, comforted by the enclosed space.
Why did I come here?
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was he pretending to be clueless? He knew exactly why he was here. It was to move on. Finally.
Brodie opened his eyes. He wasn’t going to move anywhere hiding out in the bathroom. After steeling himself with a deep breath, he exited the stall. There was nobody around. He stepped out and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror at the end of the row of basins.
You look good, Gabriel had said with that damned awkward but cute expression of his.
Warmth rushed to Brodie’s face, the remembered words flustering him. “He’s such an idiot,” Brodie uttered, and distracted himself with the hem of his sweater, tugging it to cover his belt.
He was just being nice.
Gabriel was always nice. He was calm, polite, would help anyone if they asked. That was right, Gabriel was nice to everybody. It wasn’t because Brodie was special in any way.
“Brain, will you shut off for one night,” he said to his reflection, then checked over his shoulder to reassure himself he was alone.
He pressed his hand to his chest. His heart pounded beneath his palm. Pretty sure it’s my heart not my head that needs keeping in check.
Or maybe it was both.
His emotions had been in a strange grip of confusion ever since Gabriel had offered to make the drive up to the hotel with him. Brodie had wanted to refuse. After all, Gabriel was the reason he’d decided to attend the speed dating event in the first place. So, Gabriel casually offering him a ride and an invite to stay at his place until Christmas Eve had left Brodie wanting to run out into the cold weather and scream.
Because I love him.
Brodie pressed his lips together. He was sure it would sound ridiculous if he were to say it out loud, but that was the truth of why he was there tonight. He loved Gabriel and he needed to…well…to not. For almost a decade, he’d held onto his secret love, kept it to himself for fear of losing his safe place.
The Conleys. They had been like a second family to him since he was eleven, showering him with their chaotic, loud love that, though it had seemed alien at first, he’d come to appreciate. Fear of losing something so precious had kept him from confessing. Fear of rejection, but also, fear of what if? What if Gabriel said yes? Their relationship had played out in Brodie’s mind, from first kiss to happy ever after, or at least, he wished that was where his imagination had ended.
More what-ifs.
Bickering and arguments, falling out of love, breaking up. Fifteen years of having his best friend at his side and being welcomed into Gabriel’s family, ending just like that.
The idea alone caused a pained expression to cross his face.
Why did we have to grow up?
If they had stayed as children, his feelings could have remained unchanged. An innocent time capsule of childish admiration. He’d looked up to Gabriel, marveled at the kind, strong boy from the big family who lived in his neighborhood. Gabriel, who’d invited Brodie for dinner on a whim and told him they could be friends.
But growing up was inevitable. Innocent admiration changed as he had advanced along the road of adulthood.
Ugh.
He tapped his knuckles on his chest to refocus. He wasn’t there to reminisce. Tonight was about the future, not the past. Though he wasn’t optimistic about finding love, he was using the dating event as a way to open his eyes and heart to the fact there were other men out there.
How many relationships had he already let pass by without a sideways glance because his eyes were always on Gabriel?
He’d been on a few dates before—a night out at a club, a meal at a restaurant. There’d been one time he and his date had gone to a comedy club. But no one had stuck. He had slept with some of them, but even then, there was no spark. Those brief relationships were as if he’d been going through the steps expected of him. His heart dropped as he realized none of those relationships had lasted beyond two weeks. He was a twenty-six-year-old part-time college student, whose only long-term dating experience was third-wheeling Gabriel and his high school girlfriends.
Way to make himself feel pathetic.
“Get a grip,” he uttered and straightened the collar of his coat. He needed to leave now, or he might never. A final check in the mirror and he headed for the door.
Once back in the corridor, he followed the signs for the Lancaster event room. His anxiety wasn’t as bad as before, but he could still feel the weight of apprehension in his gut. On arriving at the meeting room, he stopped at the open doors. He hesitated. There were already several people inside. Some in groups and pairs, others standing alone.
Had those people arrived together? Or had they naturally grouped up? His mind went to Gabriel and imagined if it were him at the speed dating night instead. Gabriel was a social butterfly, always had been. He was able to strike up a conversation with anyone, at least from what Brodie had seen. Another of the many reasons he admired Gabriel when they were growing up.
Can I not think about that guy for even a minute?
Maybe he was a lost cause.
“Good evening,” someone said from beside him.
Brodie swallowed hard, gave a short nod as a way of acknowledging the man.
“You’re here for the event?”
Brodie figured the man must be one of the organizers. He was dressed in a burgundy suit, the jacket hung open over a navy shirt.
“Speed dating?” Brodie said. Last thing he needed was to find out he was crashing some company function, a wedding or worse.
Could it be worse?
“You’re in the right place. If you’d like to follow me for a moment.” He was guided to one side to a table just inside the entrance. Brodie examined the room as he followed. The space had been arranged for the event, tables and pairs of chairs having been set up down the length of the room. A bar stood along the back wall where other attendees had gathered.
Reality hit him hard.
I’m really doing this.
“I’m Clark by the way.” The man who had greeted him pressed a hand above his breast pocket, a name badge was pinned onto his jacket. “If you have any questions or anything comes up during the night, just come and see me.” He flashed a smile then leaned over the desk. “So, you are…” He lifted the clipboard and scanned his list, pen in hand, raising his head when Brodie didn’t answer. “Your name?”
“Sorry. It’s Brodie. Brodie Lewis.”
“Brodie,” Clark repeated. “You can relax, you know.” He met Brodie’s eyes.
“Sorry,” Brodie said again.
Clark chuckled. “How was your journey? The weather didn’t cause you any problems?”
Brodie shook his head. “Traffic was a little slow, but it was fine. Thank you.” He huffed a breath, relaxed his shoulders.
“You won’t be the only one, so don’t worry.” Clark jotted something down then straightened.
“The only what?”
“Person attending one of these kind of events for the first time.”
“Ah. Is it that obvious?” Brodie scratched behind his ear.
Clark patted him on the shoulder. “Maybe a little, but you’ll be fine. Promise. Here.” He handed Brodie a badge with the number nineteen on it. “Hold on to that. And these are for you.” He passed him two tokens for free drinks.” If you’d like to head to the bar and get yourself a drink for now. We’ll explain how things work once we’re ready to start. Okay?”
Brodie nodded, turned the badge and tokens over in his hand. “Thanks.”
“Enjoy your evening,” Clark said and walked over to greet another attendee who was lingering in the doorway.
“Not the only one,” Brodie repeated Clark’s words. He glanced over at the bar and nibbled on his lower lip. Unease still hung in his chest, but he was here and, apparently, wasn’t going to be alone stumbling cluelessly into the unknown.
Why was that kind of comforting?
He took a moment to pin the badge to his sweater then headed to the bar. He traded one of the tokens for a bottle of beer, then moved to the side of the room. He stood beside the window, narrowing his eyes as he tried to see outside. He couldn’t make out much and instead found himself staring at his own reflection. The pictures he’d seen of the hotel online had been amazing, every shot exuding charm. Maybe there could be a reason to come back here when there were more hours of daylight, and he could appreciate the view. With a sigh, he pulled out his cell phone.
I’m in, he texted. He stared at the screen and waited. He could only think of one time Gabriel hadn’t replied to him straight away and that was when Gabriel’s father had been rushed into hospital from a suspected heart attack. Thankfully, that hadn’t been the case.
His phone buzzed and he opened the message.
Well done. Never doubted your sense of direction even once, Gabriel replied.
Brodie turned his back on the room. “Liar,” he uttered.
There were signs and a nice lady on reception, he sent back then added, Five minutes and then I’m ignoring my phone.
Okay. But here if you need me. Good luck and have fun. A second message quickly followed. But not too much fun.
Brodie grinned and opened his camera. He took a shot of his beer, then forwarded the photo with, So much fun. Now shh. Ignoring you.
He tapped his thumb against the side of his phone. Would Gabriel send one more message? He hesitated.
Dammit. His head was full of Gabriel all over again. Settling himself with a breath, he switched his phone to silent and slipped it into the inside breast pocket of his coat.
When was this thing going to start?
Jingle Bells & Mistletoe by Sammi Cee
Prologue
Jonathon
Christmas ~ Four Years Ago
“What’s wrong, son? You’re usually the life of the party, and you’ve been hiding in this corner for a while now. Everything okay?”
I smiled and bumped my dad’s arm with mine. “I’m fine. Just soaking it all up.”
Yesterday, we’d hosted a huge Christmas party for the families that used the services we provided at the Takoda Outreach Center. We’d served lunch with plenty of sweet treats for the holiday. We crafted with the children, decorated cookies, assembled gingerbread houses for them to take home, and made age-friendly ornaments. Plus, Santa had visited with gifts—both practical and fun—for everyone who’d signed up to attend. It was something that we all enjoyed doing for those in the community who needed a little extra help at this time of year. And it was something that my two best friends, Avi and Fisher, who’d co-founded the outreach with me, both understood the need for personally. Unlike my own childhood, theirs had been fraught with poverty, and in Fisher’s case, neglect.
Today was about us, though. The family we’d found along the way. We’d all gathered at my parents’ house, where my mom, Julia, and Avi’s mother-in-law, Michelle, had cooked up a feast for us. Since the outreach had originally begun with the soup kitchen, several of the people here were pros at cooking mass quantities and had offered to help prepare our meal, but the two mothers wouldn’t hear of it. They said each and every one of us served others year-round, and they wanted this to be their special treat.
Dad clasped a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve created a good group of friends here. A family.”
I had. We had.
My gaze trailed around the room. Avi and Zachary were sitting on the floor together in front of the fireplace, backs resting against the couch, talking quietly with each other. They were thinking of starting a family of their own, and it was pretty much all Avi could think about. Next to them, Fisher laughed with his husband, Marcus, and their two boys, Archie and PJ, whom they’d fostered, then adopted, years ago. Judson, who’d started as a volunteer who also needed a little help feeding his kids, took over the coffee table with his husband, Austin, helping their two boys, Joel and Adam, with the drone they’d received as a joint gift, while their daughter, Megan, oohed and awed over all her new art supplies. Judson had gone from being a volunteer to an intricate part of our outreach and like another brother.
Ben, a longtime volunteer who’d become the grandfather of our group, sat and entertained his two cronies, the seasoned and fabulous Della and Miss Emma, with another of his wild stories from his pawn shop days that had them shaking their heads at him. Miss Emma had originally shown up with teenage brothers, Archie and PJ, four years ago. The three of them were living on the streets. They were close to Jasper—a homeless young man we’d given a job in the kitchen to ensure he was clothed, fed, and out of the elements as much as possible. Jasper had brought so many of us together, and even though he’d moved on to run his own pizzeria, he and his husband, Caleb, were family now, so they were over by the Christmas tree talking with Zachary’s little brother, Anson, and his dad, Leo. From the dining room, I could hear Kamari laughing hysterically, and wherever he was, it stood to reason his boyfriend, Lachlan, was by his side.
Was I really okay? For the most part. These were my people, my chosen family, and they were all living their best possible lives. I’d been the playboy out of Fisher, Avi, and me, but deep down, I’d longed for the same relationship my parents had. They were the epitome of unconditional love, and I wanted that. So far, I’d watched everyone I was close to get it, except for the old-timers, who’d all lost the love of their lives along the way but spoke of them often and with a wealth of emotion. I was genuinely thrilled for my friends and their partners, and I adored all of their children, but my own happily-ever-after was nowhere in sight. The last five dates I’d gone on had both been lackluster, and unfortunately, I knew why.
Anson. My gaze wandered back to Zachary’s younger brother. Of course I knew exactly where he was because I always did. I’d met the willowy, blue-eyed college student with the rainbow-colored hair four New Year’s Eves ago when his parents first came to the soup kitchen to volunteer after Avi and Zachary had first gotten together. He’d been nineteen and had flirted with me shamelessly. Since he was of age, if I’d had met him under different circumstances, I’d have probably taken him up on it, at least for a night. With a witty personality, a positively glowing outlook on life, and the capacity to laugh at himself, he was just my type. Under the circumstances, though, that had been out of the question. Avi and Zachary’s relationship had been brand new, and no one knew where it was headed, but it had looked like the real deal to me. I’d been right, and how awkward would it be now to have hooked up with the brother that Zachary, who’d become one of my closest friends, now adored and had grown super protective of?
There was also the fact Anson had become an integral part of the Outreach Center, too. And much to my dismay—or pleasure?—he worked the closest with me since I took care of finances and business development. His exposure to us and what we were doing for the community had solidified the fact he wanted to be a social worker like Judson. He’d picked up on my desire to have a career center, and he’d talked to his advisor and then a couple of the professors in his department, and while helping me get the career center at Takoda Outreach Center up and running, he’d been able to use the experience for papers and his main grade in one course. Since he’d arrived at my office that first day to work, he’d shown tremendous dedication and had been an asset. Apparently, I had a competency kink because that had gone way further to get my attention than the flirting ever had.
At some point, my musings must’ve bored my dad because the next thing I knew, he’d wandered off, and Madison, Anson’s eccentric, artistic best friend, leaned her head against my arm. “When are you going to get your man?” she asked softly.
I sighed and draped an arm around her shoulders. She was a little thing, small enough that she made Anson look big, and he was petite. He actually looked more like his brother-in-law, Avi, than his bigger, buffer brother, Zachary. Well, they were half-brothers, but their bond had grown into something special over the last four years. Ugh. Why did everything come back to Anson for me? I was thirteen years older than him. He was just starting his life, and I’d had a fulfilling job I loved for fifteen years. He’d still been in high school then, for fuck’s sake. “You know that’s not really a thing.”
She tilted her head up and batted her long, black lashes at me. “You think he doesn’t really mean that shameless flirting? Or that he’s kidding when he propositions you?” She snorted. “Trust me. If he thought you’d give him the time of day, he’d rearrange his life for you.”
She was probably right, which was why I’d made sure to bury my attraction deep down so that he’d never know. Anson was leaving for a job in the spring after he graduated with his master’s degree, and I wouldn’t hold him back. One of his mentors at school had heard about a new center like ours opening up soon and explicitly geared toward at-risk LGBTQ+. They had a generous donor willing to fund the initial start-up, but he needed people who knew what they were doing to get it up and running. Anson’s professor had gotten him an interview. That involved the founder and his board of directors driving down to visit Takoda Outreach Center to see what he’d help set up. They’d been so impressed by the part he’d played, as well as what Avi, Fisher, and I had created, that they’d offered Anson a job and asked Avi to serve as a consultant. It was an amazing opportunity for Anson. It was also three hours away. In another life, another career, that might not be as big a deal, but I’d been where he was. In the beginning, we’d worked long hours with few days off.
“Yeah, I know.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “Why do you sound so melancholy? You do care about him, don’t you?”
I knew how sad she was that he was leaving. He was her best friend—her person like Fisher and Avi had always been mine. Anson’s family had essentially taken her in. Michelle had been thrilled to finally gain a daughter when Madison’s family had washed their hands of her. She’d been the black sheep in her ultra-religious, super-conservative family, but she’d grown the confidence and strength to be herself and thrive once she left for college. With that independence had come bold self-expression: streaks of color in her otherwise long, raven black hair, clothing choices that ranged from porn-star casual to 80s hard rock, and stunning artwork that had allowed her the freedom to get from under her parents’ financial support when her paintings—many of them abstract nudes—began to sell, and she began taking commissions from romance authors for their characters. Many of which included scantily clad couples in passionate situations. Her family had found her choices scandalous, and her mother had declared her evil, and they’d parted ways. She was better for it, but I knew Anson’s impending departure had to be even harder on her than I was barely admitting it was going to be on me.
“I do, but if you tell him, I’ll deny it. He deserves this opportunity. How many people graduate from college and get to step right into their dream job?”
I didn’t know why I told her that, except I needed to admit it to someone, and I knew she wanted the best for him. She was also a bright and intelligent young woman, so she’d know I was right. She released a heavy sigh. “If we’re admitting things, then you have to keep my secret, too.”
“Secret?” Intrigued, I turned and gave her my full attention. “Let me guess. You’re in love with a prince you met online, and you’re leaving the country to elope.” I shook my head. “No, that’s ridiculous. He’d have asked for money to come here, so that can’t be it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are ridiculous.” Then she grinned. “But it’s good to see you acting silly instead of sulking. People are beginning to talk, you know? You’ve been quiet lately.”
Oops. “Thanks for the heads up. Now tell me your secret before the ideas in my head get any crazier.”
She rested her hand on her stomach. “I’m scared once he finds out about the little bun toasting in my oven, he won’t go.”
My stomach dropped, and her eyes widened in horror, and she slapped me. “Ew. Gross. Not because it’s his.” She wrinkled her nose. “Him being gay aside, he’s like my twin brother or something. That’s just nasty.”
Shrugging sheepishly, I said, “Sorry. The way you said that…” I trailed off.
“I meant because he’s going to think he needs to stick close and take care of me.”
Genuinely concerned, I asked, “Will the father be part of the picture?”
She shook her head. “He’s the only person I told, and he said it must be someone else’s. Which, fine. I get it. He’s still in college and doesn’t want the responsibility.”
“Madison, you can force him to get a—”
She placed her hand on my chest. “Jonathon, it’s okay. Honestly, it took me twenty years to get from under a family who disapproved of every breath I took. I’m not subjecting my child to a father who doesn’t even want to acknowledge they exist. I’ll figure it out.”
Pulling her into my front, I rested my chin on the top of her head. “Well, you're not alone. Anson leaving doesn’t change the fact that you’re part of this family. We’ve got your back. And since you won’t be able to hide it before he leaves, I’ll reassure him that he still needs to take the job and that he's close enough to come see you whenever he needs a baby fix.”
“Promise?” she mumbled into my chest.
I didn’t know which of those things she was questioning, but that was a conversation that would have to wait since Anson stepped up behind Madison and wrapped his arms around her from the back, letting his hands rest on my sides. “Group hug. Nice,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at me from over her head and tickling my sides with his fingertips.
“You’re shameless.”
“Shamelessly yours,” he teased back.
“What am I going to do with you?”
His brilliant blue orbs darkened to a rich navy. “I have some ideas if you’re giving out Christmas wishes.”
Gah. This man. If only he knew how badly I wanted to make all of his, and my, Christmas dreams come true.
Love at Frost Bite: Davy by Jena Wade
Chapter 1
Davy
I didn’t normally dread family dinner the way I did this week. I had ignored the talks and the rumors for so long, brushing them off as something that didn’t apply to me, that it wasn’t until we sat down before our evening meal that I realized tomorrow was the day. It had been in the works for months, years maybe, but tomorrow was it. The treaty between the reindeer herd of Winterpoint and the reindeer herd of Shiverfall would be signed.
It would be life-changing for everyone, but more specifically, it would be life-altering for two individuals.
The feud went back longer than most anyone could remember. The way the legend went, it was a hundred years or so ago that the fight began. Since then, the two herds didn’t get along and avoided each other as much as we possibly could, despite living only ten miles apart. One herd occupied a town called Winterpoint, while the other reindeer herd lived in Shiverfall. I’d never even been in Winterpoint, though I’d lived near it my whole life.
But finally, there was light at the end of the tunnel. The elders had come to a long-fought agreement. In addition to signing the treaty, tomorrow, a lottery would be held, and an omega from Shiverfall and an alpha from Winterpoint would be chosen as sacrificial lambs, for lack of a better term.
The elders hadn’t called it that, but that’s really what it was.
Those two poor bastards would be bound together in a mating ceremony and whisked off to a remote cabin for the season. The autumnal equinox was two days away; that’s when the mating ceremony would be. On the morning of the Winter Solstice, the mated pair would come out and rejoin the herds.
Apparently, the elders thought they could just throw any random alpha and omega together, and they could fall in love and live happily ever after, guaranteeing peace would remain throughout the land. As if.
I’m sure the elders thought the mated pair would emerge from their honeymoon fully in love so the treaty would be solidified, and all would be happy. But really, what young alpha and omega wanted to be sent away like that? Even if it was for the good of the herds’ future, it seemed barbaric to me. Something old school and completely outdated. I could only hope that I wasn’t the omega drawn.
“It would be an honor if you were chosen,” my mother, Susan, said. She and my father had been proponents for a treaty for as long as I could remember. They were all for this weird arranged mating idea.
I looked up from my plate, eyes wide, blinking at her.
“You spoke out loud,” my best friend, Paula, said. She stifled a laugh. She was a regular attendee to the family dinners, and she’d be staying the night with us to ride to the lottery drawing tomorrow.
I shrugged one shoulder. This was a safe space. I could speak freely even if my parents disagreed with me.
“It just seems silly,” I said.
My father gave me a look, letting me know he understood, but what were we gonna do?
“The elders have said that even if the mated pair doesn’t work out, they’re willing to dissolve their mating and still keep the treaty intact. It’s more symbolic than anything else. A gesture of goodwill from both sides,” my mom argued. She was firmly in the “support the elders” camp.
I snorted. “Yeah, but that gesture of goodwill is being done by two people who have no choice in the matter. Nobody in my generation started this feud. Very few of us even care about it. Even less of us continue to instigate fights with the other town.” That wasn’t completely true. Over the years, I’d heard many stories about skirmishes between the two herds. I’d never partaken in any of them. But if I ever saw a reindeer from Winterpoint out in public, I definitely wouldn’t go out of my way to be rude to them. I wouldn’t go out of my way to be kind, either, though.
“I think I would really enjoy spending three months in a remote cabin with no one to bother me,” Paula said.
“Whatever. You’d miss your cell phone,” I said.
“They’re gonna take away the cell phones? What if something happens?” Paula held her phone close to her chest as if someone were going to take it away right then.
“Now, now,” my father said. “They are sending the couple away to a fully stocked cabin that has a radio in case of an emergency. And vehicles the couple can use to escape if they need to.”
“But no cell phones, no internet,” I said. “In the northernmost point of the territory, which isn’t easy to get to.”
“Electricity?” Paula asked.
“Of course, there is electricity. But it is a remote cabin, so it’s a little spotty,” my dad said. “They’ve had a group up there restoring the place for the past few weeks. It will be in good shape for whoever is chosen. I am sure you would love it there, Davy.”
I groaned.
“Oh, stop it. The likelihood that you’ll be drawn is minuscule,” my mom said.
“Still. It’s there. Then again, if I were in a remote cabin for that long, I could get a lot of woodworking done.” I might finally finish using all of my yarn stash, too, if I brought my crocheting stuff along. That would be a novel concept. And speaking of novels, I could read… I spent a lot of time in the city, and being out in nature would be nice. But like my mom said, my likelihood of being drawn was nil. There were over a hundred and fifty omega names in the pot, and I never got picked for anything. I had friends, but I wasn’t the most popular of all the reindeer. Being an omega with an insanely large rack of antlers hadn’t gained me the friends you would think.
Alphas were too intimidated, though I didn’t know why. Comparing antler sizes was stupid.
After dinner, Paula and I helped get the dishes washed and get the kitchen cleaned up. Then we went up to my room. My parents need not worry about any activities Paula and I got up to. We were just friends, and as an omega, my interests lay mostly in alphas. I’d fooled around with an omega or two in high school and college, but that was all.
Paula was more interested in getting our business off the ground than settling down with some alpha.
“I still can’t believe there’s a treaty,” Paula said. “Did you ever think you’d see that in our generation?”
I shrugged. “I guess I never gave it much thought. I barely even know the legend of how the war even started.” We’d learned it once, but mostly as a scare tactic. I doubted the legend was based in fact.
Paula’s eyes went wide. “You don’t know about the two reindeer who mated behind their parents' backs? When they finally came forward to both groups, there was a huge fight. The omega was pregnant, of course, and he was wounded during the scuffle. He lost the baby, and the omega was kept away from the alpha by their families. He died of a broken heart.”
It sounded sad, and it definitely left a not-good feeling in the pit of my stomach. However, I’m sure time had exaggerated the story greatly.
“What happened to the alpha?” I asked.
Paula shrugged. “No one saw him much after his omega died. Some say he shifted to his reindeer form and never changed back. I’ll bet that cabin is where he lived.”
I shuddered. “Why can’t people just get along?” I said.
“They say that the engagement rings the two wore were forged from an antler and reindeer fur, and they were never found.”
“What? That doesn’t even sound like a nice ring to wear. Engagement rings are not a typical reindeer tradition anyway.”
Paula shrugged. “The alpha in the story was a master craftsman who made the rings from his antler and his mates’ fur. I think it sounds very sweet.”
“So, if this legend is real, where are those? In a museum somewhere?”
Paula plopped down on my bed. “They were never found after the omega passed. The alpha might have had them, but no one knows where he went.”
I settled into my desk chair and stayed quiet for a moment mulling over that. I couldn’t imagine loving someone so much that I would be that heartbroken to lose them. That’s not to say I didn’t want that. I’d love to settle down someday and have kids of my own. But an arranged mating? That didn’t seem fair.
“Oh, gawd. You’re worried,” Paula said, and she smacked me with a pillow. “You’re not going to be lucky enough to get drawn tomorrow anyway. The chances are so low.”
I picked up a pillow and retaliated, hitting her solidly on the head.
She was right. I was not likely to be picked. I couldn’t argue with that.
“Alright. Let’s get to work.” I pulled out my laptop and navigated to our schedule. Paula and I were both skilled at woodworking, and we’d set up quite a business doing carpentry work. It was awesome, and I loved it, but it wasn’t quite my dream job.
“You know, with the treaty signed, we could partner with the hardware in Winterpoint to do the classes you’ve always wanted,” Paula said.
I sighed. “Maybe. But just because there is a treaty doesn’t mean everyone will want to work with everyone else. The owner could be one of the holdouts who refuses to mingle.”
Paula snorted. “That would be real dumb. Our towns on their own can’t sustain the businesses we have. That’s why our restaurants and shops are all struggling. If we actually got along and shared resources, frequented businesses in Winterpoint, and vice versa, we might all have a fighting chance.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
“Put a pin in that discussion. Let’s get this scheduled figured out and our supplies ordered,” I said.
“Fine, we’ll get to work. Spoilsport.”
Christmas on Firefly Hill by Garrett Leigh
Logan
Summer Then
The night is hot and humid, thick August air heavy in the sky. There are no clouds, just smoke trails from the fire show I’m marshalling, the smell of paraffin heady with danger.
I’m not the kind of dude to get excited by that. I flick a scowl at the clear sky. I want it to rain, and not just because I’m in a bad mood. This grass, man. It’s dry. Yellow. Not far from straw at this point. One spark out of place and this whole field is going up, and because I’ve seen too much horrible shit to ever believe the worst won’t happen, I’m standing here like a doomsday peddler, glaring the heck out of every dancer that spins past.
That’s what you get for moonlighting, bro.
My twin brother’s amusement is loud in my head, but given his solution to an expensive divorce is playing gangster with a biker crew down south, he can suck a bag.
I’m the sensible one.
Honest.
A fire dancer prances by me, all sequins, flesh, and smoke. She’s an attractive woman, but it’d take more than long legs and curves to distract me from hawk-eyeing the flaming baton she twirls.
I don’t see her.
I don’t see anything but hazards.
It’s my job.
The woman flits on by. She’s last in line and I almost relax. Then an awed murmur ripples through the audience and I remember there’s another performer I didn’t get to lecture before the show.
Before I even see him, I know he’s different. It’s not just the louder noise from the festival crowd, it’s everything, from the increased heat in the air to the wider expanse of smoke in the sky.
From the goosebumps breaking out over my skin, to the thud of my heart when I finally clap eyes on this fucker.
Goddamn.
There goes my theory about knowing myself.
“You’ve got a thing for thic brunettes, dude.”
Nope. Apparently not. Because there’s no way this dude’s slender limbs and sunshine-blond hair aren’t every sexual thought I’ve ever had rolled into a fucking thunderbolt.
A thunderbolt that hits me straight through the soul.
Like, legit kills me stone dead.
If stones could burn like molten lava, that is.
That’s the word for what spreads through me as the dancer whirls closer. He’s spinning a flaming poi above his head, a double-ended baton that sends sparks showering all over him as he swings it faster and faster, his nimble body a blur of tattooed skin and that gorgeous fucking hair.
Oh, and he’s bare-chested, naturally, dressed in black harem pants that sit low on his narrow hips, the rest of him in full view, from his lean abs right down to his tattooed bare feet.
Fuck me. I might’ve misjudged my attraction to blonds, but my penchant for the hard planes of a bloke’s torso is in full flight. I watch him twist and turn, the dance timeless and primal, and another bolt hits me. Blood rushes south in time with the audible whoosh of the poi. In an instant, I’m beside myself with an intensity I haven’t felt since a dude first turned my head at the tender age of fifteen.
More than that, because this feeling isn’t laced with fear.
This feeling is all fucking heat and I don’t have to worry what anyone else thinks about that.
Except maybe anyone within a close enough radius to see the dick print making my utility trousers ridiculously tight.
The only soul close enough is him.
He dances into my peripheral, and dear lord, I’m not religious, but I need a divine intervention right now.
I get it in the form of a clap of thunder. A loud whip of sound that breaks the sky open. Raindrops fall, fat and wet. Some of the audience flees. Dancers too. Not this one, though.
Not him.
He laughs and turns his face to the inky abyss above us, letting the rain pelt him, soaking his skin.
His poi fizzles out. I wait for his magnetism to fade with it, but as the crowd thins, the aura he carries seems to swell, drawing me in.
I’ve taken four steps before I catch myself, and by then it’s too late.
He sees me and lowers the poi, a grin stretching a face I’m fast realising is a thousand suns more beautiful than his bewitching body. Drumbeats still come from the band beneath the boho umbrellas. They thud an ancient rhythm in time with my heart. I take two more steps. We’re inches apart, and up close, his smile is blinding.
And older than I expect. Mid-twenties rather than the nineteen-year-old I feared he might be with flexibility like that.
Older and fucking hell, he’s stunning. All cheekbones and hair. It’s too dark to see what colour his eyes are, but they could be mud-brown and he’d still, hands down, be the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
He’s also waiting for me to speak, and I realise, too late, I have nothing to say that isn’t various versions of I want to fuck you. And I can’t say that—I’m working. And shy, at least when it comes to picking up men. I’m a damn good lay, and I know it, but this bit…yeah. I’m ten shades of terrible.
A silence stretches out. It should be awkward, but he’s still moving to the primal drumming, like it’s part of him, swaying his hips, head bobbing. He reaches out and flips the crew ID hanging from a lanyard around my neck.
“Logan Halliwell,” he breathes. “You’re a fire marshal.”
I nod.
He tilts his head, his big eyes slightly hazed from the zoot I spot between his fingers. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No—” My voice is as croaky as his is warm and melodic. I try again. “No. Just checking you’re okay. You had sparks all over you.”
I itch to grab his wrists and check his skin. His inked chest, neck, and hands. The tattoos are chakras and mandalas, in thick black-blue ink that didn’t come from a modern tattoo gun. They’re imperfectly perfect, like the glowing copper pendant hanging from his elegant neck, and I want to trace them with my tongue.
“I’m good.”
His voice startles me. I drag my eyes from his chest to meet the snare of his gaze. “Good?”
“Yeah.” He draws the word out, then takes a toke from the joint, blowing the herbal smoke sideways from his lush mouth. “I’m used to it. Probably wouldn’t notice if I lit myself on fire.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“You gonna save me?”
Save him. Toss him over my shoulder and carry him to my fucking cave. “I’d try.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“I’m a nice man.”
“You look it.”
Can’t say I’ve ever been told that before. I’m big and wide, my hair as dark as my brother’s is light. He says I have a grumpy mug, and no one’s ever told me any different. “You look—” Fuck. How am I gonna finish that sentence? With the truth? Nah. My internal monologue is articulate as shit, but put me in front of someone who makes my heart skip like a broken clock and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. “You look all right too.”
Amazing. At this rate, we’ll be married by the end of the month.
Not.
Besides, I’m not in the market for another expensive clusterfuck. I’m down to fuck. I just don’t know how to say it without sounding like a colossal wanker.
So I don’t say it. I say nothing else at all, and neither does he. We stand in the rain and stare at each other until someone behind me calls my name.
It’s the festival organiser. She’s a nice lady paying me cash for a couple of days’ work, but dear god I wish I’d never met her right now.
If you’d never met Xena you wouldn’t be kicking it in this wet field.
Can’t argue with that, but if she’s calling my name, she needs me for something, and that means stepping out of the vortex this dude has sucked me into with an angelic smile that somehow holds the heat of the devil.
He steps closer. “Someone wants you.”
It’s a whisper my dick chooses to take out of context. I want you. It’s not what he said. Not even close. But I hear it, bank it, and steel myself to turn away from him.
A hand skates over my hip, scalding fingers grazing my skin through the thin T-shirt I resent even more than Xena for calling my name a second time.
The dancer leans in.
I catch the scent of accelerants and smoke, a hair trigger for hyper-vigilance on any normal day or night. But there’s nothing normal about the rush his proximity gives me. Nothing about it I don’t like, save the fact I know I’m about to lose it.
His hand on my hip burns me up. Scrambles my brain. I meet him halfway, but I’ve got nothing. I don’t know what I’m doing. What he’s doing. Where we’re going.
I have no clue that his hot-as-hell mouth is about to land on mine, so when it does I’m a fucking statue. A fortress of nothing as his hot lips brush mine in a sweet ghost of a kiss.
He’s kissing me.
Ten years ago, the mere idea of a man’s kiss in a public place was enough to give me a fucking stroke. Now it’s a different kind of trip. One that spins me in the best ways, lifts me off my feet, and takes me on a magic carpet ride.
His lips are everything.
Then they’re gone and I realise I’ve stone-faced him.
Scared him, probably. Mean mug, remember?
He doesn’t look scared.
He looks amused. Joyfully amused and my lips begin to rise. Another clap of thunder rattles the earth and I make my move, tugging him back into my orbit.
I kiss him. In front of hundreds of festival goers. In front of Xena, and every dancer still braving the rain. Lightning flashes in the sky and it’s fitting with the chemical combustion happening in my body with every soft flex of my mouth on his.
It’s funny how the world can shift in a split second. I mean, that’s how long I kiss him for. Seconds. No tongues or teeth, just gentle lips. But by the time it’s over, I’m a different person.
A better person, maybe. I don’t know.
All I know for certain is that I have to go as much as I want to stay, and he knows it, too. I see it in eyes that still have no colour.
He steps back.
I let him go.
He dances away with his lips imprinted on mine forever.
Christmas for Keeps by Rheland Richmond
1
Tristan
Tristan was so excited. It was his first Christmas with Nathaniel and he couldn’t wait for Nathaniel to experience a real family Christmas. Nathaniel had never been part of a family before, and the thought of his love all alone, when he was younger still hurt Tristan’s heart.
Tristan’s parents hadn’t been the best, and Christmas had been just another day to entertain. But when he was nine years old, he’d experienced his first wake up early with hot cocoa, sit around the tree ripping into Christmas presents Christmas, and it had been with Teo and his family.
Tristan’s parents had been invited on a skiing holiday and they hadn’t wanted to take him and Shannon along. It would have just been him, his sister, the nanny, and the chef. A few days before school closed for the Christmas holiday, Tristan was over at Teo’s. They’d been having lunch and Sonya asked him if he was excited to open presents on Christmas morning.
Tristan had innocently said that his family didn’t do that, because they didn’t. Yes, they had a Christmas tree, but it was professionally decorated by a company his mother hired. The presents under the tree were props, and he and Shannon knew never to touch them.
When he’d told Sonya all this, not thinking anything was wrong with how they spent their Christmases, she hadn’t said anything, but that Christmas was the first of many holidays spent with Teo and his family.
And this year would be even better because their family had grown. Teo had Michael and his kids, and Tristan had Nathaniel and their kids. He couldn’t wait to create new traditions as their family grew larger.
Nathaniel wasn’t as excited for Christmas as Tristan, and from one of their past conversations, he knew it was because he didn’t have any good Christmas memories. He’d told Tristan that the first Christmas he wasn’t alone was the one he had after bringing Emma home.
Even though Nathaniel had no idea what a family Christmas looked like from experience, he mimicked every TV show and movie Christmas he could find because he wanted his baby to have one.
Tristan had watched some of the videos that Nathaniel had saved from Christmases past, and he hated how lonely his man looked. Sure, he looked happy the older Emma got and he smiled when she ripped into her gifts. But Tristan knew there was a magic that family brought to Christmas, and he wanted Nathaniel to experience it.
So he’d been plotting. He and Teo had been plotting. They had their new additions to welcome. Tristan adored his adoptive family, he really did, but the family he was building with Nathaniel was a gift he would never, ever take for granted.
“Earth to Tristan. Earth to Tristan,” Teo said, waving his hand in front of Tristan’s face.
“Be more annoying, why don’t you?” Tristan replied, batting Teo’s hand away.
“Well, I asked you a question?” Teo snarked, going for a mock pout.
“Oh please, do I look like Michael? Do you think that fake ass pout is going to work on me?” Tristan teased his best friend.
“Bitch please, you’ve got nothing on my delectable doctor,” Teo replied.
“Right,” Tristan laughed. “So, back to planning.”
“Yeah, okay, we’ll do Christmas Eve at the parents’ and Christmas at yours and Nathaniel’s this year, and then next year we can do it at mine and—” Teo stopped abruptly before finishing.
“And Michael’s. Right… That’s what you wanted to say?” Tristan prompted.
Teo looked like he was going to deny it for a second, but instead, he said, “You know we don’t live together.”
“Yet. You don’t live together, yet,” Tristan reminded Teo.
“Yeah and I’m fine with that. You know the kids, especially Luc, need time. And it’s just been five months, but sometimes I feel like we are so brand new.”
“But you’re not. You know you’re not. I know I don’t have to tell you this because you’re the one who told Michael to take the kids to therapy, but baby steps, Tee. You know that man is crazy about you. Besides, you spend more time at his house than you do at yours. It’s just semantics at this point. And I’d bet Michael is just waiting until he’s sure the kids are all okay.”
Meredith Russell lives in the heart of England. An avid fan of many story genres, she enjoys nothing less than a happy ending. She believes in heroes and romance and strives to reflect this in her writing. Sharing her imagination and passion for stories and characters is a dream Meredith is excited to turn into reality.
Sammi Cee was raised in a family of readers. Summer vacations consisted of a good book while sitting lakeside from as far back as she could remember. After growing up and having her own children, her appreciation of how the written word could transport you on an adventure, bring you to tears, or give you hope, took on a whole new meaning.
These days Sammi is watching her children develop into fine young ladies while doing the things she enjoys most: drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and writing her own stories.
These days Sammi is watching her children develop into fine young ladies while doing the things she enjoys most: drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and writing her own stories.
Jena began writing in January of 2013 as a New Year's Resolution--and so far she has stuck to it!
She lives in Michigan. By day she works as a web developer, and at night she writes. Born and raised on a farm, she spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden, or riding her horses. She also helps run the family dairy farm.
She lives in Michigan. By day she works as a web developer, and at night she writes. Born and raised on a farm, she spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden, or riding her horses. She also helps run the family dairy farm.
Garrett Leigh is an award-winning British writer and book designer.
Garrett's debut novel, Slide, won Best Bisexual Debut at the 2014 Rainbow Book Awards, and her polyamorous novel, Misfits was a finalist in the 2016 LAMBDA awards.
When not writing, Garrett can generally be found procrastinating on Twitter, cooking up a storm, or sitting on her behind doing as little as possible, all the while shouting at her menagerie of children and animals and attempting to tame her unruly and wonderful FOX.
Garrett is also an award winning cover artist, taking the silver medal at the Benjamin Franklin Book Awards in 2016. She designs for various publishing houses and independent authors at Black Jazz Design, and co-owns the specialist stock site Moonstock Photography with renowned LGBTQA+ photographer Dan Burgess.
For as long as she can remember Rheland's had her nose stuck in a book, getting lost in the world of someone else's creation (She still does). Her love for writing came from her love for reading. She could never have one without the other.
Writing has always been a hobby and a cathartic experience for her. There are many stories lost to the never to be completed or published pile but needed to be written at the time.
She's just a girl that loved stories so much she wrote hers.
Rheland would love to hear from her readers and learn more about Y'all. So if you get a chance... please get in touch.
She also writes Omegaverse as Skye R. Richmond.
Meredith Russell
BOOKBUB / SMASHWORDS / B&N
EMAIL: meredithrussell666@gmail.com
Sammi Cee
Garrett Leigh
Stuck with You by Meredith Russell
Jingle Bells & Mistletoe by Sammi Cee
Love at Frost Bite: Davy by Jena Wade
Christmas on Firefly Hill by Garrett Leigh
Christmas for Keeps by Rheland Richmond
