Snowed Inn
An avalanche, a quaint Christmas inn, and an assignment to sit on an international thief until the cops can arrive. What could go wrong?
Felix can’t believe his luck when a perfect stranger offers him the use of a pre-paid cabin at a mountain inn. He’d planned to ignore Christmas this year, working through the holidays in his job as a nurse in a Denver maternity ward. After all, Christmas won’t be the same without his beloved mother, who recently passed. But the inn, decked out like a Hallmark movie set, is the perfect place to soothe his heart, rekindle his Christmas cheer, and maybe even find romance? When a gorgeous ex-Marine befriends him and sticks by his side through a whole day of Christmas activities, Felix thinks he’s found true love.
Riggs’s plans for a ski vacation are buried when an avalanche blocks off the mountain inn where he’s staying from the rest of the world. A midnight phone call enlists Rigg’s help watching a guy on the FBI’s Most Wanted list who is supposed to be staying at the inn. The FBI and the police can’t get through until the avalanche is cleared. Riggs steps up to do his duty one more time. But the man who is supposed to be The Falcon, an international thief, has one hell of a Clark Kent type alter ego, because he seems like the sweetest man Riggs has ever met. The more time they spend together, the more attracted Riggs becomes to him, and the more determined he is to make The Falcon reveal his true colors.
Will love prevail? Or will the law?
A Changeling Christmas is a mistaken identity, snowed in together, rom-com romance with all the Christmas feels.
Sometimes things are just too good to be true and that might just be what Felix is facing when a stranger offers him the use of his cabin. What makes it too good to be true is something you have to find out on your own but it's the perfect setup for Felix and Riggs, another stranger Felix meets who is determined to stay by Felix' side.
Secrets of different levels are embedded in layers throughout the story and when the men are faced to confront said secrets is it too late to find happiness? Perhaps. Are they too much for the pair to overcome or is it just a perfectly setup holiday tale by the Queen of Christmas? You know my answer to that one: you have to read for yourself to discover that part of of this holiday tale.
There is probably a little more mystery element in A Changeling Christmas compared to the other entries in the Snowed Inn series, although there are a couple I haven't read yet. Is mystery an overwhelming factor? No. Does it make the romance more drama-centric? Perhaps. Does the holiday spirit get lost in said drama and mystery? Not at all! Some might think it unplausible that Felix would blindly follow the stranger's wishes but there comes a time when we all just need a break from life and this is Felix's chance for a short break. Course, if he only knew what following the stranger's wishes would lead to he may have taken another option but then he may never have met Riggs. So once again fate seems to know exactly what it's doing😉
A Changeling Christmas is not a story to be missed. Eli Easton has once again brought the holiday magic to life that entertains from beginning to end.
One last series note: Snowed Inn is a multi-author series of standalones with the only real follow thru being the avalanche that traps the main characters at The Retreat. The entries can be read in any order although if I'm completely honest I'm glad I read RJ Scott's Stop the Wedding first simply because there are the occasional wedding(or non-wedding) comments, none of which really effect or play a role in any of the other entries but I was glad I knew what they meant having read Wedding first. But that's more a personal preference of mine than an actually need to know scenario. I still have a couple of entries to read but so far they are all topnotch.
CHAPTER 1
Felix
Epic disaster: thy name is Felix Bordeaux.
My cheeks burned with humiliation, and disappointment churned in my gut. In fact, there was a whole host of miserable emotions littered around my feet like invisible crumpled-up Post-it notes. Maybe in a discount-bin shade of puke green.
I picked at the moist label on my beer bottle. The colored Christmas lights strung up over the bar danced along the brown glass and my hands. "I know what you'd say, Mom," I whispered. "It will happen when it's supposed to. But how can it ever happen when I'm a veritable black hole in any social setting? Horizon of Doom. That's me."
"Did you say something?"
I looked up to see a good-looking man standing near me at the bar. He was probably waiting to order a drink. I cringed. "Huh? No. I wasn't talking to you. Sorry."
I looked back at my beer bottle, turning it around and around. I'd had enough rejection for one night. I wasn't going to engage with anyone. Maybe ever! Yes, that was the only acceptable solution. I was never going to engage with anyone ever again. Except for my patients. But definitely not men. Or, at least, not men like that. No spank you. That was my Christmas promise to myself. Even if it only made me feel more miserable.
I waited for the guy standing at the bar to leave. But he didn't. I could still see him in my peripheral vision. Heck, I could feel him. He had an intense aura. I snuck another look. He was staring at me. Crap.
"I'd like to buy you a drink. Come sit at my table with me," he said.
"Me?" I looked around to make sure he was, in fact, talking to me.
"You." His voice was firm, and he didn't crack a smile. He had an air of authority like he was used to being obeyed. He turned and stalked away.
I hesitated. What did he want? He hadn't been eyeballing me that way. At least, I didn't think so. If this was a pickup, he needed to work on his game. Then again, tonight I'd sent the first two guys at Speed Dating fleeing for their lives before I'd slunk away in shame myself, so who was I to judge?
It was curiosity more than anything that made me pick up my beer bottle and follow him.
He took a seat at a small table for two. Awkwardly—because that's how I roll—I sat in the other chair. He proceeded to study me some more. I held my beer bottle and looked around to avoid his gaze.
The Retreat’s tavern was a warm space with rustic beams, dark wood tables and chairs, a pool table, and a big TV currently displaying a fireplace with holiday music. Christmas lights were strung everywhere, and there was a Christmas tree in the corner, all decked out with red bulbs and paper beer coaster ornaments. The place was nearly empty, but then, the speed-dating event was still going on. The one where I'd crashed and burned.
I snuck a look at the guy. Tallish, probably my height of six foot. Fit body. Dark hair worn to his shoulders and layered in an immaculate haircut. Piercing dark eyes. Huh. We looked sort of alike. Or, rather, he looked like me if I were a thousand times cooler and had my shit together so tightly it could have been Shapeweared.
I swallowed. "What?"
"I'm Alastor. And you are?" He finally cracked a smile. Maybe it was my imagination, but it was a little like seeing a shark smile.
"Um. Felix. Felix Bordeaux."
"Are you staying at the hotel, Felix?"
I shook my head. "I wish. No, I just drove up for the speed-dating thing, you know?"
"Isn't that going on right now?"
I felt heat on my cheeks again. "I, uh, left early."
He stared at me.
"It wasn't for me. I'm not good at meeting people." Understatement of the year. "I should have known better? I guess?" I huffed a bitter laugh. "In fact, the second guy I sat down with told me I needed a class in conversational skills." God, I could still see the sneer on his face. "The saddest thing is, he wasn't wrong. Only my friend, Dawn, she insisted I do it? She made me, actually. I had to drive up for the speed dating or she wouldn't let me take her shift on Christmas. So."
Alastor gave a slow blink. "She wouldn't let you take her shift on Christmas?"
I nodded. "I'm a nurse. I decided to work this year on Christmas Day so others could have it off. Like Dawn. This is my first Christmas since my mom died, see. And it couldn't really be Christmas without her. I figured I might as well work. Make up for all the years someone worked so I could have the holiday off. Not that there's been that many. I only graduated from nursing school a couple of years ago. But, hey, pay it forward. Right?"
I chuckled, but his face was utterly expressionless. I mentally kicked myself. I'd done it again. Mentioned my mom in the first sixty seconds. I was pretty sure that's where I'd lost the two guys I'd sat with in speed dating tonight. When would I learn?
I sighed. "Never mind. Thanks for the, um…." Oh, right. He hadn't actually bought me a drink. I stood up.
"Wait." Alastor grabbed my wrist. He managed to tug me back down into my seat while signaling for a waiter.
The waiter appeared out of thin air. "An Elijah Craig for my friend, Felix, here. Neat." He turned to me. "It's the best bourbon money can buy in Colorado."
"Oh. Uh. Thanks, but I have to drive home tonight. And I'm kind of a lightweight."
The waiter ignored me. "Right away, sir," he said to Alastor with the sort of deference I'd never received in my life. He scurried away.
"About that…." Alastor gave me another of those shark-y smiles. "I have a cabin here for three more nights, and it turns out I need to leave. Immediately." A flash of anger crossed his face. He downed his own glass in one long swig. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like "Lennox will pay for this."
"I'm sorry to hear that?" I said sympathetically, though I wondered where this was going.
Those dark eyes focused back on me. "The cabin's prepaid and nonrefundable. It's yours if you want it. Otherwise, it'll be wasted. Say yes, Felix. A wise man once told me—when opportunity crosses your path, grab it with both hands and hang on for the ride."
"I… really?"
"Yea, really," he said dryly.
I was about to say Oh, I couldn't, but I stopped myself. I'd driven up in time to have dinner here tonight, so I'd taken a little tour of the hotel and grounds. I'd been envious of the guests. How wonderful it would be to stay in a place like this for the holiday season. The Retreat was a gorgeous mountain lodge, and it was chock full of Christmas cheer with lush decorations and evergreen boughs against a backdrop of rustic buildings, stunning mountain views, and the snow…. It was like a movie set. How I'd wished I had the money, and the heart, to stay.
This was the first time I'd felt a hint of Christmas spirit all year. I'd ignored the approaching holiday because Mom was gone, and the thought of having it without her was too painful to bear. But being at the Retreat for a few days? That would be a dream. I counted in my head. It was the 22nd. I could stay three nights and drive back to Denver early to work the Christmas shift on the 25th. I wasn't scheduled until then.
It was as if it was fate—or a Christmas gift. I felt a swamping wave of gratitude. Is this your doing, Mom? Gosh, you're the best.
"I don't have the money to stay here," I said carefully. "So if you'd want to be reimbursed—"
"Free, Felix," Alastor said firmly. The waiter arrived with a dark drink in a short tumbler, just like the one Alastor had downed.
"Drink." Alastor pushed the glass toward me.
I hesitated. "I shouldn't."
"You won't need to drive tonight. Come on. Down the hatch, and then we'll go look at the cabin."
"I didn't bring anything with me."
Alastor gave me a judge-y look. "Opportunity is knocking, Felix. You drove here for a speed-dating event, so you took one chance tonight. Take this one. Drink."
He was so persuasive. I picked up the glass and sipped it. Gosh, it was strong. But there was a smooth heat to it that was nice. I started to put the glass down, but Alastor touched my hand and guided the glass back to my lips.
I drank, eyes on him. Was he coming on to me after all? Did he expect a quickie before he left? In exchange for the room? I'd come up here to meet a man, but this one looked too much like me to spark any desire. It was a little squicky, in fact. I didn't want to have sex with myself. I mean, I do have sex with myself. A lot. But I don't stare at myself in the mirror while doing it.
I finished the drink, and when I had control of my burning throat again, I blurted, "I'm not a narcissist!"
Alastor stood up and raised one eyebrow. "Good to know. I suppose one of us shouldn't be. Come on, Felix. Let's go."
My head spun as we left the hotel. I wasn't kidding when I'd said I was a lightweight. One beer, and I was super mellow. Two, and I'd be asleep within the hour. The bourbon, on top of the half beer I'd drunk, left me feeling like I was submerged in a warm pool of honey, and I couldn't stop smiling. If this cabin didn't work out, I'd be spending the night in my car.
The cold night air revived me a little as we walked out of the back of the hotel and crossed a service road. The cabins were clustered together among tall pine trees and oozed glamping charm. Their lights shone as if fairies danced with lanterns in the snow. Daw!
"They're so pretty," I said, my voice slurring a little.
Alastor grunted. "Mine is called Towering Redwood."
I snorted. "Is that a cabin or a medical condition? If it lasts for more than four hours, there's a number you could call." Gosh, I cracked myself up.
Alastor sighed. "This one."
He walked up to one of the cabins. And, yes, Towering Redwood was the name listed on a plaque at the door. Alastor unlocked it and switched on the light inside.
Dang, it was so cozy and charming and wonderful. Mom would love this so much. It looked like one of those Sundance catalogs. The main room had raw log walls and wooden beams. A comfy-looking sofa in gray with red plaid pillows and a sheepskin throw sat in the middle of the space. There was a bear rug in front of a fireplace—hopefully not made from real bear—and a horned chandelier. A narrow Christmas tree decorated with tiny white lights, white balls, and buffalo plaid ribbons added the perfect holiday touch. The kitchenette had pine cabinets and black appliances including —ohh!—a fancy coffee maker.
"The bedroom's this way." Alastor walked down a hallway.
I followed and peeked into a good-sized bedroom with a queen bed, red plaid flannel comforter and sheets, two rustic wood lamps, and a flat-screen TV on the log wall. White lights were strung around the log bedposts and made the whole room so romantic and homey.
"There's a full bath with shower and tub. Wine and snacks are in the kitchen. Oh, and there's a complimentary breakfast buffet at the lodge. Just show the room key." Alastor grabbed a black backpack from the closet and tossed it on the bed.
"Uh… Are you sure about this? I can really stay here for three nights?"
Alastor spun to me and grabbed my face with both hands. I gave an undignified little cry. His intelligent dark brown eyes stared into mine. Wow. We were exactly the same height. He looked annoyed. "Listen to me, Felix. Are you listening?"
"Mm? Your breath smells like cinnamon rolls. Is that the bourbon? Does my breath smell like cinnamon rolls?"
"Felix. I'm in a hurry. Got it?"
His tone was stern, so I nodded mutely.
"This cabin is yours, all expenses paid, for three nights. I only ask one thing in return. Are you listening?"
"Sure." I tried to smile, but he was smooshing my face.
"If anyone asks, you're me, Alastor Jeddard. Repeat it."
I frowned. "I don't lie. Mom always said lying was way more trouble in the long run."
Alastor's jaw ticked like he was grinding his teeth. "It's not lying. It's just… the place where I reserved it, it was a, uh, a special price and nontransferable. So if the hotel staff, or security, or anyone else asks, just say my name."
I still didn't like the sound of it. "But if they find out I'm not you, will I get in trouble? Will I have to pay? I can't afford this."
His jaw clenched again. "No, they don't actually care, Felix. They're just ticking a box. It's purely procedural. Say my name, and you'll be fine." He smiled and his tone softened. "It would be a favor to me. After all, the value of this cabin is over eight hundred dollars. You'd like to do me a favor just like I'm doing you one. Wouldn't you?"
"You should do nice things for other people whenever you have the chance. Put goodness out there, and it'll return to you. That was my mom's philosophy." Dang. Now I was serial quoting Mom. It had to be the bourbon.
Alastor blinked and nodded, his smile tightening ever so slightly. "Yes. That's right. Smart lady."
"She was."
"And you look like the sort of man who could use a vacation from being himself."
I frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, grab life, Felix. Escape from the same-old-same-old. Live a fantasy for a few days. Be me. What's the harm in that?"
What was the harm in that? Wasn't I just thinking what a disaster I was? Maybe I did need a break from myself. And being Alastor… it wasn't possible I could ever be that sure of myself, but it might be fun to pretend.
"So we have a deal, don't we, Felix?"
I thought about how nice this cabin was. And all the activities I'd get to participate in. And how it would actually make this year feel like Christmas after all. And maybe I'd meet a guy, if I was here for three nights. And what if Mom, now an angel in heaven, had nudged this opportunity my way. Who was I to refuse?
"Deal," I said.
Alastor let go of my face and gave a little sigh of relief. "Good. Now I have to go. Enjoy the cabin and don't forget our agreement."
Alastor grabbed his backpack from the bed. I watched him stuff things into it—mobile phone, a wallet, a small laptop, a few things from the bathroom. He bypassed the open closet, which was full of nice clothes. I followed him out to the main room where he put on a sleek black ski jacket that probably cost more than I made in a month. He attached a fancy pair of black leather dress boots to the bungee cords on his backpack and put on a different black pair of shiny ski boots.
He straightened up. "Well, that's it."
"What about your clothes?"
"I'm only taking the necessities. Do what you like with the rest."
Wow. That didn't sound right. "I can ship your things to you if you give me an address."
His eyes flashed something dangerous. "No! No address. That is, I'm not sure where I'm going next. Keep the stuff, toss it, or leave it here. I don't care."
He opened the door, letting in a cold blast of air. I followed him onto the porch where he grabbed the skis next to the door, carried them to a patch of snow in front of the cabin, and dropped them.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"What does it look like?"
"You're skiing? Now? At night?"
"There's a full moon. It's perfect skiing conditions."
He was right. The moon was full in the sky and the night was clear and cold. "Yeah, but… I thought you were leaving."
"So I am. Goodbye, Felix. And good luck."
He did some fancy maneuver where he planted one ski and one pole, turned, and he was off like a shot, looking like he'd been born on skis. Like he was the Aquaman of snow.
Was there a superhero who was, like, the master of snow? Snowman? No, that didn't sound right. There was no snow superhero. Missed opportunity there.
I watched as Alastor jumped a snowless patch of trail, swooshed between two cabins, and was gone.
"Thank you! And… make good choices!" I called after him, waving even though he couldn't see me.
Dang, he was skiing out? Guess that's why he couldn't take his luggage. What a weird thing to do. Why hadn't he just called an Uber if he didn't have a car?
Maybe he was a skiing fiend. Maybe there was a beautiful course between here and Chester Lake, the nearest town, and he just wanted to get in one more ski before going back to work. People could be passionate about that sort of thing.
I sighed. Why couldn't I be all cool and sporty like that? Devil-may-care? Sophisticated?
I laughed. "In my dreams. Huh, Mom?"
Still smiling, I went back into the cabin.
Author Bio:
Having been, at various times and under different names, a minister’s daughter, a computer programmer, a game designer, the author of paranormal mysteries, a fan fiction writer, and organic farmer, Eli has been a m/m romance author since 2013. She has over 30 books published.
Eli has loved romance since her teens and she particular admires writers who can combine literary merit, genuine humor, melting hotness, and eye-dabbing sweetness into one story. She promises to strive to achieve most of that most of the time. She currently lives on a farm in Pennsylvania with her husband, bulldogs, cows, a cat, and lots of groundhogs.
In romance, Eli is best known for her Christmas stories because she’s a total Christmas sap. These include “Blame it on the Mistletoe”, “Unwrapping Hank” and “Merry Christmas, Mr. Miggles”. Her “Howl at the Moon” series of paranormal romances featuring the town of Mad Creek and its dog shifters has been popular with readers. And her series of Amish-themed romances, Men of Lancaster County, has won genre awards.
EMAIL: eli@elieaston.com
Series
No comments:
Post a Comment