👻🎃👻 Happy Halloween 👻🎃👻
I've wanted to do a post featuring LGBTQ stories that were set at Halloween but not paranormal for a few years now but time just got in the way. 2023 was the year time was on my side. Not all of these 5 stories are strictly Halloween set, some are only a small scene but as with Christmas reads, the tiniest mention makes a story a holiday read. So if all things spooky aren't up your alley or you just want something not quite so creepy for a change of pace but still love the holiday, have a look at these 5 tales. If you know of others in the LGBTQ genre that fit this description be sure and leave a comment here or on any of the social media posts that brought you here, I'm always on the lookout for more. Hope you have a fun & freaky Halloween.
👻🎃👻 Happy Halloween 👻🎃👻
Summary:
A Nick & Carter Holiday #18
Saturday, October 31, 1970
It's Halloween! Nick and Carter are heading down to San Luis Obispo where they're hosting a party for their favorite actress, Miss Lola Dunbar!
For reasons best known to himself, Nick insists Carter drive the Cougar down California Highway 1 instead of taking the short flight south in one of their private planes.
However, in spite of the fact that the weatherman promised a sunny and warm day, the coastal road is engulfed in a thick fog.
Just outside the tiny hamlet of Vineland, a green panel van appears out of nowhere and forces Carter off the road, causing a flat tire in the process.
Turns out they're stranded with a group of kids from the Southland just outside the iron gates of abandoned Hunter Hall.
They soon realize it's no coincidence they're all there at the same time!
Nick and Carter lead the others inside the creepy mansion to uncover the secrets of a ghostly Confederate colonel, his lost bride-to-be, hidden passages, and more!
Welcome to a year of holidays with Nick Williams and Carter Jones!
This is the eighteenth in a series of short stories and novellas all centered around specific holidays.
Each story is a vignette that stands on its own and takes place from the 1920s to 2008.
Nick & Carter find themselves "stranded" with an eclectic group of strangers outside a possibly haunted house and they, along with their fellow travelers, decide to head in. Is what they find spooky? Ghostly? Flat out weird? or is there a simpler explanation? Well I think you know the answers to all the above will be the same: you have to read for yourself to find out. And if there is a simpler explanation will it actually explain all they discover? Again, no spoilers, read for yourself and trust me you will enjoy it.
As with all the other entries in this series of holiday snippets, the original Nick & Carter series inches ever closer to the top of my TBR list. The next few months tend to be my busiest so I doubt I'll get to it in 2023 but boy do I look forward to discovering their full journey in 2024.
RATING:
Summary:
Chestorford Coyotes #2
A young adult hockey romance filled with making amends, family, friends, and discovering the real person inside while juggling the crazy, upside-down world of high school.
Jonah Robinson has really messed up. He’s spent the last year hanging out with someone who wasn’t leading him in a good direction. Now that Felix has seen the light, perhaps it’s time for Jonah to do the same. Making amends is not going to be easy when he’s not exactly been the nicest guy at Chesterford. With the help of his family and a special friend at the school, Jonah is ready to try to make things right with those he wronged. The first person on that long redemption list is Tyler, the brightest player on the Coyotes, at least in Jonah’s eyes. He’s taken a thousand pictures of Tyler for the school paper, but he’s going to have to learn how to develop more than just negatives if he wants to grow close to Tyler.
Tyler Corrigan’s dad has left, his mom is terrified he’ll come back, and it’s Tyler who’s left to keep his little family in one piece. The only respite from real life is playing hockey, and he’s an important part of the Chesterford Coyotes. Despite not being the biggest person on the ice, speed is his superpower, and the team has his back during the worst of the bullying he’s had to endure. His friends make him feel safe when his real world is full of fear, but no one can protect his heart when an awkward and messed up Jonah—one of the worst of his bullies—is suddenly around every corner, wanting to make things right.
Sorry can be a difficult word to believe, but trusting your heart is everything.
I've been wracking my brain(and yes I know I could just look it up on my kindle but why go the easy route?😉) to recall if the authors let us know that book 2 would be Tyler and Jonah's journey but I remember being certain it would be when I read Off the Ice. I was not disappointed because the only thing keeping Tyler & Jonah from replacing Soren & Felix as my favorite pair is that S&F came first and in a multi-couple series, the first is always my favorite.
Unlike Felix, Jonah did not have a dysfunctional homelife that lead him down the path of bullying, for him it came down to peer pressure, following the pack, not quite having the courage to say "enough!". It may not make his behavior in book 1 acceptable but it does show that the ability to change is present. There were signs of his heart in his scenes in book one so watching just where his heart and thoughts are in book 2 is absolutely lovely. The scenes with his little sisters says it all, they may only be a few but for me how a brother treats his little siblings can go a long way to setting a characters' worth.
Tyler has not had it easy at home or at school thanks to the likes of Miles and one time followers, Felix and Jonah. But now that Felix has found the courage to walk away thanks to Soren and Jonah is trying to follow Felix's path, school should be easier but Miles is still around and seeing as Miles(and many in the school) believe it was Tyler who turned the bully in will it really be better? For that answer you have to read for yourself. As I stated, Tyler's homelife hasn't been the best either but breaking free of his dad's hold in their life gave both Tyler and his mom a chance at building a better future, but that doesn't mean they can just flip a switch and it's all hunky dory, it takes time but Tyler is definitely a determined youth.
Together the boys find a new way forward, though it's neither easy nor instant but perhaps that is what makes it worth fighting for all that much more sweeter. I just want to wrap them both in tight Mama Bear hugs until everything is perfect but life is about learning and growing, we readers can only do so much in the wanting to protect department. On Thin Ice is a very lovely and honest journey of growth and happiness which can make it sound and seem very adult at times. They do have to grow up sooner than most but they still are teenagers at heart, Scott & Locey do a brilliant job of balancing their youthful friendship and eventual romance with the angst that forces them to face that adulting a little sooner than many of their classmates.
As I started with not remembering if the authors' clued us into who would be at the heart of book 2 at the final page of book 1, I can say here in On the Ice we briefly met Shaun and Kenji who we know will have their story told Spring of 2024 and I can't wait. I may not read much in the young adult genre, with a few exceptions(Anne of Green Gables comes to mind) I probably have only read a handful since I myself was a young adult(as I turned to the likes of Sidney Sheldon, Danielle Steel, and Jackie Collins by the time I was 15) so I hate to make comparisons to other YA stories, especially in the LGBT area. Perhaps I'm a little biased for 2 of my favorite authors, RJ Scott & VL Locey, but I think they do an amazing job delving into the youthful storytelling in Chesterford Coyotes and of course it's definitely worthy of the Scott & Locey Hockey Universe moniker. A true delight from beginning to end.
Summary:
Mitch & Cian #4
Falling in love is easy. Building a life together takes more work.
Nine months after getting together, Mitch and Cian are studying in Dublin and sharing an apartment. For both, this is a dream come true and even boring household chores become fun when they do them side by side.
Tensions arise after Cian joins an inclusive rugby club and Mitch a ukulele orchestra. Insecurities, jealousy, and lack of relationship-experience soon lead to resentment, and each struggles to balance romance with their individual interests. After Cian and Mitch accept separate invitations to Halloween parties, hoping the other will accompany them, their doubts grow.
Will All Hallows’ Eve drive a wedge between them or could there be another miracle in the making?
Ukuleles and Scrums is the fourth novella in the Mitch & Cian series. While it could, possibly, be read as a stand-alone story, the reader will enjoy it more if they read A Miracle in the Library, Lessons in Love, and Pride of Place first.
Nine months after getting together, Mitch and Cian are studying in Dublin and sharing an apartment. For both, this is a dream come true and even boring household chores become fun when they do them side by side.
Tensions arise after Cian joins an inclusive rugby club and Mitch a ukulele orchestra. Insecurities, jealousy, and lack of relationship-experience soon lead to resentment, and each struggles to balance romance with their individual interests. After Cian and Mitch accept separate invitations to Halloween parties, hoping the other will accompany them, their doubts grow.
Will All Hallows’ Eve drive a wedge between them or could there be another miracle in the making?
Ukuleles and Scrums is the fourth novella in the Mitch & Cian series. While it could, possibly, be read as a stand-alone story, the reader will enjoy it more if they read A Miracle in the Library, Lessons in Love, and Pride of Place first.
Original Review December 2019:
I read Ukuleles & Scrums one afternoon two days before Christmas but unfortunately didn't get around to writing a review until now. I'm just going to start out by saying that once again Helena Stone has captured Mitch and Cian's growing relationship perfectly. I should point out that I know nothing about ukulele music and even less about rugby. The idea of putting these two hobbies/pasttimes/activities together with Mitch and Cian to be completely and utterly delicious.
The semi-unigueness of their activities is a great blend with the elements of misunderstanding and miscommunication to create a relatively low angsty story. I don't want to give anything away but Ukuleles and Scrums is a beautiful read that will make you laugh, cry, smile, and just plain feel good about life, course there a few moments I want to whack Mitch and Cian's heads together but it wouldn't be any fun if we the reader didn't want to knock sense into our heroes at least once😉😉. There is a great blend of relationship realism and romantic entertainment to make this a definite one for the win-win shelf.
Summary:
Harrisburg Railers #12
Family comes first in all things. Whatever the cost.
Ten had always heard the saying, “Out of the mouths of babes,” but he hadn’t expected it to hit home as it had. After a comment from their daughter, Ten and Jared ponder an addition to the family. Moving into the adoption process is nerve-wracking and riddled with anxiety—kind of the way the Railers have been playing as of late. Bringing two young men into their homes and hearts won’t be a smooth ride. But with patience, humor, and love, the bumpy road might just be a little easier to travel.
Expanding their small family was always in the cards, but no one could have foreseen the process clashing with the worst ever start to a Railers season. A string of losses, a vital player missing from the defense, a captain in the emergency room—and winning a single game seems impossible, let alone getting the team to the playoffs. Faced with hard decisions, Jared refuses to take his work home, but it’s difficult when your husband is at the leading edge of the losing streak. His focus fractures when one sibling they’re matched with is frustrated, angry, and has a healthy dose of mistrust.
Jared and Ten’s parenting skills are tested, but they’ll do anything to make a place in their home the perfect gift for two children lost in the system.
Original Review November 2022:
Gotta start by saying: YAHOO!!!! Another Railers holiday tale!!!!
The authors may have tagged this a Christmas Railers novella but it actually encompasses multiple holidays including Turkey Day and that is a holiday that is rarely touched on, or at least not nearly enough. That right there is worthy of 1 bookmark alone. Being Harrisburg is worthy of another. What gave it the other 3? Read on.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: love, love, LOVE men who care for kids! Seeing Ten and Jared's family grow is so heartwarming, watching them tackle fostering and adoption of older kids turned me into a big puddle of sappy goo. Now that's not to say this leg of the crowned Princes of Scott & Locey's hockey universe is cliche by using the term "sappy" oh no, no, no, no. Sure some moments may seem cliche but that doesn't make it bad. With so many health issues in our family, status quo or cliche, is often a welcomed treat so when I say "sappy" all I'm really saying is "can we bundle those boys in layers and layers of bubblewrap so harm never comes to them?"
Soren and Milo are amazing! Milo is the quintessentially adorably loveable little boy. Soren is the epitome of "give me your best shot and I'll tell you what for" chip on his shoulder older brother. Some might say Soren is a little brat but not me, what I see is a scared boy having to be older than his years to protect his little brother. He's thrown for a loop when he meets Ten and Jared and it raises his guard up even higher. Now I'm not going to say more because despite this being a holiday novella and Scott & Locey are always about the HEA, I don't want to spoil any of the journey the Madsen-Rowe household embarks on, just know that your heart will thank you for the experience. Seeing little, itty bitty Lottie walking and talking and being all kinds cute is plus.
How can I write a review for a Railers tale without mentioning one of the funniest scenes I've read in ANY story in a long time? Adler and Stan loudly discussing naughty Valentine gifts as Ten tries to shut them up as a reporter is only 10' away. How can that not leave you ROTFLYAO? Trust me, I'm glad I read this when I was at home and not in the waiting room at Mayo Clinic, they may just have had to call security because I would literally have been on the floor laughing hysterically. Thank you, ladies for including a convo that could only work with Adler and Stan.
The hockey universe consisting of Harrisburg, Owatonna, Arizona, & Boston Scott & Locey has created should be read in order, especially those involving Ten and Jared. Will you be lost if you read Perfect Gifts without having read any of the other universe? Probably not but there are other characters mentioned and seen who make a lasting impression if you know their individual stories as well. None of the stories will leave you sorry you picked them up. Just so much yumminess all over the place and I don't mean just the sexy times, but overall heartwarminess(yeah I know that's not a word but I think it sums it up pretty spot on).
Law of Retaliation by Davidson King
Summary:
Haven Hart Universe
Two universes unite to take on one formidable adversary.
A Halloween party at Joker’s Sin means an evening of fun, drinking, dancing, and entertainment. But when a dead body is found in the club’s bathroom, it’s the loose thread that starts to unravel the hard-won peace of Haven Hart.
Christopher, Black, and their friends deal with a lot of unsavory people, but more gruesome murders and bodies piling up lead to a deadly game of whodunit. This enemy may be too much for them to handle alone, so they join forces with Atlas, Ciro, and the Joker’s Sin crew to take back their town.
Will they prevail, or will this be the war that crushes them all?
Law of Retaliation is a multi-character POV story: The Haven Hart series and the Joker’s Sin series in a steamy, suspenseful, mysterious Halloween novella.
Original October Book of the Month Review 2022:
Oh how I love returning to Haven Hart!
Davidson King has created some pretty amazing stories but Haven Hart will always be my favorite. Perhaps it's simply because it was the first, perhaps it's the power the characters have at grabbing your heart, perhaps its just the right balance of snark and cuddle, soft heart and dangerous mayhem . . . whatever the reason, Haven Hart universe is brilliant! And this Halloween holiday novella is no different. Law of Retaliation grabs your attention and doesn't let go.
I won't give out any spoilers(as if you had any doubts on that) so the plot won't be touched on. We get to see all the characters we have come to know and love celebrating the spooky holiday, otherwise known as Halloween but as par for the course, nothing quite goes according to plan. The characters may get a little rattled at first but then they jump into action as only they can.
As Bette Davis says in All About Eve: "Fasten your seatbelts; it's going to be a bumpy night."
One of the things I loved about Law is being able to see the characters talk about their families and the home lives they are fighting to protect. Lovely! Lovely! Lovely! Just another day in Haven Hart, even though you know these characters interact throughout their days in various forms, the gathering at Atlas' club, Joker's Sin for Halloween has a very class reunion feel minus the occasional screams of "OMG! I can't believe they dared to show their face after all these years!"
I will confess that I haven't had a chance to read the last 2 novels in the Joker's Sin series so yes, a few of the couples journeys were unknown to me and I know I would have had a deeper connection to said characters had I read those books but I wasn't lost. The author does a fantabulous job to make sure the reader knows the couples have had a long hard fought road to reach where they are so it's easy to love and root for them all. She does that in a way that gives you insight yet no spoilers for those like me who have to go back and discover their journeys.
I know we'll be getting Fred Brennan's story down the road and I can't help but wonder who he'll find himself entangled with and if that character might have been spoken of briefly already? If it is then what a ride Fred's about to travel and if not, he'll still be facing an intriguing journey knowing the author's attraction to danger.
So once again I say; "Oh how I love returning to Haven Hart!" and I'll add: Here's to many, many, many more trips around the sun with the residents of that unlawfully, chaotic, mayhem filled city. So bring it on, Miss King, I'll be here for every single one!
RATING:
Halloween, 1970 by Frank W Butterfield
Driving south on Cal. Hwy. 1
Vineland, CA 93452
Saturday, October 31, 1970
3:20 p.m.
"I'm still cold."
Carter took his eyes off the fog-bound coastal highway for one second to glance at me. In an annoyed tone of voice, he said, "The heater is on full blast, son. You're wearing a sweater. What else do you want me to do?"
I sighed dramatically and looked out the window, hoping to see something other than hazy gray. "Tell me we should have flown down to San Luis Obispo for this party."
"OK," said Carter. "We should have flown down to San Luis Obispo for this party."
"But the weather was supposed to be bright, sunny, and warm all the way down the coast," I whined.
"This was your idea, Nick."
"I know and I'm sorry for being such an ass about it all."
"I'd reach over and kiss you but we're going too fast."
I looked over at the dashboard. "We're only doing 25."
"And I feel like we could careen off the side of a cliff at any moment."
"Careen off a cliff?" I laughed. "Which one of your writers are you making fun of?"
"Arthur Murchison. It's a line from Death Came by Fog. He's correcting galleys as we speak."
"I hope it stays fictional and doesn't suddenly become a non-fiction bestseller about a handsome publisher and his whiny husband and how their '67 Cougar plunged to a watery grave one Halloween afternoon on the coast of Big Sur. You could call it Rendezvous with Fate at Cliff's Edge."
"If you'll stop trying to come up with awful book titles, I promise to keep the car from careening."
"Off the cliff," I added.
He laughed. "Is there any other kind of careening?"
"One can careen back and forth."
"Cool it with the high-hat voice, son."
I was about to say something smart in reply when a green panel van suddenly appeared out of the fog in front of us.
Carter slammed on the brakes and swerved to the right.
Anticipating a sudden careening at any moment, I grabbed the dashboard and held on for dear life.
Fortunately, Carter came to a stop. Unfortunately, as he was doing so, the rear passenger tire made a popping sound. It was likely a blown-out tire.
"Well, great," said Carter in an exasperated tone of voice as he got out of the car.
I followed suit and took a look at the tire. It was flat alright.
Carter kicked at it. "Damn."
"Hey, mister!" said a voice in the fog. "Are you alright?"
I looked over and saw a blond kid of about 20 walk out of the fog. He was wearing a tight white shirt, blue denim jeans, and a red kerchief around his neck. His shirt was unbuttoned a little, revealing a hairy and muscled chest. He could have been right out of central casting for "studly surfer type." He was certainly a lot more handsome than Jody McCrea could ever hope to be.
"Sorry about that!" he said earnestly. "I slowed down so I wouldn't miss the mansion."
"What mansion?" I asked as I looked around.
Pointing, he said, "Hunter Hall. You can't see it, but the gate is just a few feet thataway."
"Why weren't your lights on?" growled Carter from behind me.
"Golly! Mr. Jones! I'm so sorry." The kid looked at the car. "And this is your 1967 Cougar with the custom convertible top! Wow!"
"And one flat tire."
"Gosh! Well, lemme help change it."
Carter sighed. "I would but I left the spare at home because we needed room for luggage."
"Darn! Maybe we can use the phone at Hunter Hall and call a local garage."
I laughed. "There's no phone at Hunter Hall. It's been abandoned since the Depression."
"Oh! I thought it was like Hearst Castle. I got a flyer to take a tour in the mail." He pulled a folder-over color brochure from his back pocket and handed it to me.
Sure enough, it looked like the kind of thing we had in racks at most of our hotels. Only this was different. As I looked at it, I realized it was for a Halloween-only tour. "One day only! Don't miss out!"
I handed the brochure back to the kid, "I think someone was playing a trick on you. This place is for sale. I just got a call about it last week from a real estate agent here in Vineland. It's a steal, really. But it's too far from San Francisco and too close to Hearst Castle." I laughed. "I don't want the ghost of William Randolph Hearst chasing after me."
The kid was looking at the brochure as I talked. He frowned and said, "It looks like this was produced using a modern, high-quality offset printing machine." He sniffed at it. "And recently. I wonder why I didn't notice the smell earlier."
"Frankie!" shouted a wavering voice in the fog.
"Over here, Sammy!" The kid named Frankie explained, "That's my boyfriend." He gave me a big grin full of white teeth. "His name is Sanford S. Samuelson, but everyone calls him Sammy. He's the world's last beatnik."
I grinned back. "And what's your name?"
"My parents named me Franklin. Franklin Fuqua. But you can call me Frankie."
I offered my hand. "I'm Nick." We shook. Hooking my thumb over my shoulder, I said, "And this is my husband, Carter."
Frankie was nodding enthusiastically as a lanky kid with chestnut hair walked up. He was wearing a blue chambray shirt with brown corduroy trousers. His hair was long and tied back off his face. He sported a messy brown goatee. "Hey!" he said as he took Frankie's arm.
"This is Sammy."
"Hi there," I said and gave out our names again.
"Wowee!" exclaimed Sammy. "Like, I've never met real-life billionaires before."
"Guys!" said an annoyed female voice behind the two kids. "Where are you?"
Frankie turned and yelled into the fog, "We're over here, Dodo!"
"Dodo?" asked Carter, sounding amused.
Sammy replied, "We call her that because, like, she's smart. She's a real brainiac."
A short, stocky girl emerged from the fog and looked up at me and then at Carter. She had brown hair that was a little messy and wore chunky black glasses that made her eyes look small. Her outfit consisted of a green and orange sweater over a brown plaid skirt. Orange tights and brown leather flats completed her look.
Pushing up her glasses, she said, "Golly! Nick Williams and Carter Jones!"
On Thin Ice by RJ Scott & VL Locey
Chapter One
Jonah
I was kind of doomed.
Actually, I was totally doomed. Like Dr. Doom was dropping all the doom he possessed—which was a lot—onto my head, and while it sucked, it was kind of expected. Still, I hated sitting at the kitchen table being chewed out by my folks as my siblings snickered in the living room.
“… cannot believe that you’ve been bullying people, Jonah. I know your mother and I raised you better. Look at me, Jonah. I want to make sure you’re soaking in what I’m saying to you.”
I raised my eyes from the bracelets on my wrist. My father’s gaze met mine across the kitchen table, and what I saw in those dark brown eyes made me feel even shittier. He was not proud of me at all, neither was Mom, who was chewing on her lower lip, her light blue eyes worried and damp. I’d made her cry. Talk about feeling like something scraped out of my baby sister’s diaper.
“I know it was wrong,” I mumbled as I fingered the slim rubber bracelet with the bi colors on it. I’d slid it on just this afternoon, after seeing Tyler and his friends from the Gay Student Alliance working on decorations for the Halloween dance. A dance I was supposed to cover for the Chesterford Chronicle, the student paper, but that I wasn’t allowed to go to because the principal had called my parents in for a conference. Seemed someone had dropped an anonymous note into the suggestion box outside the administration office saying that Jonah Robinson and Miles Brooks were using racial and homophobic slurs against other students. That had been the start of a really, awful, super-sized, monstrously bad day. And by the looks on my parents’ faces, this terrible day was going to stretch into a craptastic week or month. Hell, maybe a year. I’d probably not see the outside world apart from school until I was sixteen.
I deserved it all though.
“Jonah, if you knew it was wrong why did you do it?” Mom asked, pushing a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear.
I wanted to explain that I’d overheard Mom and Dad talking about her job with Felix’s family’s company, about how losing her job would be a major hit to the family budget, how it worried them, how they wished they had something real they could hold onto.
I wanted to tell them the horrors of being bullied at my old school—that it didn’t matter what school I was at, I never fitted.
I wanted to explain that this was why I’d hung onto Felix, and by extension Miles, just to keep myself protected, to keep my mom’s job safe. Felix would go to bat for my mother if he and I were friends.
To try to fix everything wrong in my head.
All I could do was hang my head in shame.
“Peer pressure,” Dad snapped, pushing to his feet to get another cup of coffee. It was his third in the past hour. He’d given up smoking two years ago and had substituted coffee for the nicotine. Mom had been giving him decaf for the past six months, unbeknownst to him. “Why stay friends with Felix and Miles? You had to know that no good would come of it.”
I winced because it was all on me. I’d chosen to hang around them; it was me who’d put myself in that position.
Dad continued, this time with way more anger. “That damn Brooks family is a seething den of bigots. Remember the first time we went to the Chesterford Spring Carnival?”
“I remember,” Mom whispered, her jaw tightening.
“Greg Brooks walks up to me, big as you please, and asks me if I had permission to be on the school grounds.” Dad thunked his Carlisle Parks & Recreation mug on the counter next to the Keurig. “Does that man think that only White people are allowed to be on the Chesterford campus?” he asked the coffeemaker as he pawed in the big plastic container for the right pod. They were all the same, all green covers, but he dug around anyway, muttering to himself until he found the one that he wanted. The lone, red-covered pod amongst all the green. “Ha! Found one. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing with the coffee, Emma.”
Mom gave me a wobbly smile as Dad went off about the Brooks clan. “I know that there aren’t many people of color on that campus, but to come right up to me and ask… why is this damn pot not making coffee?”
“Something probably plugged the needles. Let me fix it, just sit down, and talk to Jonah.” Mom gave my arm a pat, then rose to poke at the coffee pot needles with a paperclip. Dad sighed and flopped down across from me, then gave me one of those long, sad looks of his.
“I’m so disappointed in you, Jonah. I know it’s been hard to adjust to the new school. And I know we don’t have all the cash falling out of our—”
“Terrence, language,” Mom chided Dad. My younger siblings—three girls ranging from ten down to two—giggled out in the living room.
“Out of our pockets,” Dad hurried to amend while the opening strains of The Princess and the Frog flowed into the kitchen. “I know it’s been tough; I truly do. But you earned that scholarship in fine arts. You’re an amazing photographer. Someday, you’ll be out there snapping pictures for National Geographic or the New York Times.”
Yeah, that was the dream. If only I could fix the broken parts of me.
“I know it was wrong,” I said, again, and shame choked my words.
“Then why the hell did you do it? Why would you hang around people who are bigots? Make us understand, Jonah. Make me see why a biracial young man would pal around with two hateful people like Felix Sinclair and Miles Brooks.”
He sat back, arms folded over his wrinkled dress shirt. His tie was probably being worn by one of his daughters as a headband. Dad and Mom had been called into the principal’s office after lunch, pulling them away from his job as the director of Parks and Recreation for Carlisle Borough and her new job taking orders at the local fast food drive-thru window, which was what she has been doing since losing her job at Sinclair Industries’ main office. Both had been furious during that meeting. Furious, shocked, and ashamed.
“Felix has changed,” I blurted out. Dad rolled his eyes. Mom made a sound as she poked violently at some plastic bit from inside the coffeemaker. “He has, honestly.”
“Actions speak louder than words, Jonah. It’s easy to say you’ve changed,” Mom said, her jabbing of the plastic bit getting violent. Better the coffee basket than me. Mom was generally pretty chill, but when her only son acted like an asshole and she lost half a day’s pay, she got crabby.
“No, Felix really has changed. He’s dating Soren Rowe now, openly, and they seem really happy. Only, he kind of isn’t really talking to me and Miles anymore.” My sight went back to my wrist, the band of rubber in soft shades of pink, purple, and royal blue feeling right on my skin. I’d never actually thought of myself as bisexual, not really, until I started on the school paper at Chesterford and had an epiphany. As the lone photographer on the Chronicle staff, I covered… well, everything on campus, and lots of off-campus as well. Sports included. Which was cool because I liked sports a lot. I played tennis and basketball, not on a team, but with kids in the neighborhood or my dad. It wasn’t until I got to watch the Chesterford ice hockey team that I’d gotten into the sport. And then had the big bi wake-up call.
“That’s good to hear. Soren and his fathers are good people.” Mom finally got the coffeemaker flowing, the gurgles and hisses making Dad unclench. Soon they both had mugs in hand and were staring at me once more, waiting for me to say something brilliant. “I don’t think you should associate with Miles anymore,” Mom added, then took a sip of her coffee.
“Shouldn’t have been hanging around him to begin with,” Dad grumbled into his cup, sipping tentatively as Mom’s head bobbed. “We know you’re close to sixteen and feel the need to have your friends as you see fit, but—”
“No, no, I don’t want to hang out with Miles anymore. I was never friends with him, but after Felix went off with Soren, he expected me to… no… I won’t do it. He’s just wrong, and I won’t…” I couldn’t think of what else to say. There wasn’t any good in Miles, he wouldn’t have a redemption arc in my life story.
Mom glanced at Dad. “That’s good to hear. It’s easy to get sucked into toxic relationships when you’re new to a social group. But it’s been two years now, and you should be able to mix into a wide range of friendship groups. You’re smart, handsome, artistic, athletic, and funny.”
“Takes after his father,” Dad chimed in, his anger seeming to slowly be leaching away.
“That he does,” Mom said, leaning over to peck Dad on his neatly trimmed, bearded cheek. “I hope you can figure out where you fit in, honey.”
“Yeah, me too,” I murmured, plucking at the bracelet I’d thieved out of a box the GSA had stashed inside the front doors. They were planning on handing them out to students as they entered the dance. “So can I go to the dance on Friday?”
“You’re grounded.” Dad gave me a look over his coffee cup.
“But it’s for school,” I wheedled, then glanced at my mother, only she wasn’t backing down.
“Sorry, Jonah, but Mr. Wheeler will have to take the pictures for the dance. Being called into the principal’s office is not a minor offense, nor is bullying people. Now, go to your room and do your homework. Your father and I will decide on how long your punishment will be.”
I wanted to argue, but deep down I knew whatever they gave me would be justified. I’d been a fuck toad to some people who honestly didn’t deserve it. I got to my feet in silence and pushed in my chair, my eyes on the tips of my sneakers.
“And, son, we expect you to apologize to everyone you hurt,” Dad said, his words pulling my sight from my Converse. “I don’t care if Felix or Miles do it or not, your mother and I raised you to be kind to people, and if you hurt someone, you say you’re sorry. Isn’t that right, girls?”
“That’s right, Daddy!” Lana, Gemma, and Polly all yelled back in unison. Mom beamed, then frowned when the sound of shouting was followed by crying, then a feeble “Sorry” from Gemma. Mom pushed to her feet and exited the kitchen.
Dad gave me a firm look. “I mean it, Jonah. You make amends to the kids you hurt.”
“I will,” I whispered, rubbing my new bracelet.
I rushed my father, hugged him hard, then bolted out of the kitchen, through the living room to the stairs. Those I climbed two at a time, my vision blurry from unshed tears I did not want anyone to see. I burst through the door to my room, closed it, locked it, and then, stood in the center of my space as the tears ran down my cheeks. I dashed them away, unsure why I was even crying. The past couple of years had been hard.
So hard.
Being pulled from public school and dropped into a private school in my freshman year had been exciting. For about two days. Then, the differences between my middle-class family and most of the other families of the students at Chesterford had really started to show.
I could count on two hands the number of students at Chesterford who were BIPOC. There was one other Black guy on campus, Reggie Dunleavy, who played football and was the son of two plastic surgeons. A couple of Asian kids attended, and one Latina girl who was graduating this year, the daughter of Hector Manuel Rivera, the assistant mayor of Harrisburg and his wife, Elena, a corporate lawyer. Then there was me. Jonah Robinson, son of hard-working people with more love than ready cash, admitted to a scholarship program that opened the doors of private schools to the less fortunate. Of course, the wording on the application had been different, but that was the gist.
I toed off my shoes, fell across my bed, rolled to my back to stare at the poster of Johny Pitts, one of my idols. Johny was a biracial photographer and had made a name for himself in the UK doing a photo journey with poet Roger Robinson. They’d driven across the country asking What Is Black Britain? and the images and words from that trip were stunning. Someday, I hoped to be able to do something as meaningful as that for the world. Mom assured me I would, but it seemed so far away right now. I’d gotten off light at school, pulling three days detention for an admitted verbal battle Miles had gotten into while I’d hung back like a coward. I should have stood up for the kid Miles was calling a weak little sissy before giving the freshman a shoulder slam as he strolled away. I said nothing to Miles, but I did apologize to the kid before heading the opposite direction from Miles. I’d heard Miles shouting my name, but I had kept walking, and I planned to keep walking away from that kind of shit. Whether I found my crew or not. I just hoped I did find them soon. It was lonely being different…
I stared up at Johny as the sounds of my sister’s singing along to “Almost There” filtered up the stairs. When Dad’s voice joined the singalong, I had to tune out. Dad could not sing, like at all, but he sure thought he was the next coming of Snoop. Which he was not.
I found a playlist that I liked, pulling up something from one of my fave hip-hop/punk bands. While the family was jamming to Disney, I was listening to a trio of POC musicians singing about burning down the system, wondering if being biracial and bisexual was one too many bis for one dude to tote around.
I’d been drifting off when a soft knocking at my door pulled me from the hazy ether of in-between wakefulness and sleep.
“Jo-bah,” Polly whispered under the crack of my door. “Jo-bah, lemme in peas.”
There was nothing I could do, but let her in. There were times when my baby sisters got on my nerves, but overall, I loved them more than mostly anything on the planet. Aside from my parents, and our cat Linus. Oh, and my Kodak digital camera, purchased outright by me after working all summer at Betty Lo’s Creamery selling ice cream cones and milkshakes. Mom and Dad had been so proud of me for earning that money. Now, they thought I was a slug.
I am a slug. I’m lower than that. I’m just the same as the kids who’d picked on me at my old school.
I’m worse because I should have known better.
“Jo-bah, peas,” my baby sister called, and so, being a dopey, smitten big brother, I left my bed and unlocked the door for her.
She gazed up at me, a drawing in her chubby hand, big brown eyes set in her tan, round face, her hair a wild mass of light brown curls no comb or brush could ever tame. All the girls had tight curls, same as me, I just kept mine buzzed because who has the time? Besides, I got cool designs in the clipped sides like lightning bolts, half-moons, spiderwebs, and stars.
“Jo-bah sad?” she asked as she handed the drawing up to me. “You crying?”
“No, I’m not crying, but I am kind of sad,” I replied, examining the drawing. It was a brown circle with two black ovals that were maybe my eyes. Blue lines ran out of the black ovals, so possibly, those were tears? “Did you make this?”
“Uh-huh,” she answered, skirting around me to dash into my room, then climb onto my bed. She flopped to her back—Little Mermaid nightgown twisted around her middle, her chunky thighs and calves exposed—and grabbed her toes. “I see Johny.”
“Yeah, he’s still there.” I sat down beside her as she tried to stick her big toe into her nose. “Don’t do that,” I said, and she quit. For now. “Thanks for the drawing.”
“You well-comb. Why you sad?”
I fell back on the bed to lie beside her. She giggled and cuddled in close to my side. The girl was a major cuddle-bug. I’d lost count how many times she’d left her toddler bed to come into my room to sleep with me—at least twice a week, if not more. I didn’t mind. My bed was more than big enough for one teenager and one toddler.
“I did something bad,” I told her, figuring that was enough for her.
“Oh, Jo-bah, why did you do bad things?” she asked as she rooted under my arm. I lifted it, and she snuggled into my side.
“I don’t know. Why do you do bad things?” I asked, then glanced at her. She’d popped her thumb into her mouth, a sure sign she was tired. She shrugged. “Yeah, same here. But I won’t do those bad things anymore.”
Her tiny hand, the one with the free thumb, came up to pat my face. “Jo-bah good boy forever now,” she said—or I think that was what she said—around her thumb before her long lashes fell to rest on her pudgy cheeks. As she slept peacefully at my side, I pulled a notebook out of my backpack and opened it to a new page.
I had a list to make of the people I’d hurt.
And at the top of that list was Tyler Corrigan.
Yeah, I was doomed as doomed could be.
Ukuleles & Scrums by Helena Stone
“Can’t find what you’re looking for?” he asked, not trying to hide his amusement.
Cian glanced up at Mitch, inspected his surroundings, and had the grace to grimace and flush. “Sorry about that. I’ll fix it in a min.” He glared at the various items of clothing on the floor, then bent and picked something up. “Gottcha.”
“What’s that?” Mitch squinted at the item consisting more of connected bands of material than solid pieces. He thought he recognized it but didn’t want to hazard a guess and make a fool of himself.
“A jockstrap.” Cian slung one strap over his index finger and swung the piece of underwear around.
“Jockstrap, hey?” Excitement heated Mitch’s blood. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen one of those up close and personal.”
Cian glanced at him, his gaze intense. “I’ll be right back.”
Mitch watched, bemused, as Cian hurried into the bathroom. When Cian returned, moments later, Mitch’s bemusement turned into pure, hot lust when he noticed how well the jock’s pouch encased Cian’s package. “Nice.”
Cian turned on the spot, giving Mitch his first sight of Cian’s bare arse, framed by black straps.
“Very nice.” Mitch didn’t try to hide the heat in his voice. He approached Cian, who had come full circle and faced him again. Wrapping his arms around Cian’s middle, he grabbed both cheeks with his hands and squeezed. “Is there a rule saying you can only wear this when you’re on the field?”
Cian chuckled. “I guess you’re on board with the rugby idea, then?”
Doubts and fears tried to worm their way back into Mitch’s thoughts, but he shrugged them off, concentrating on the familiar and wholly enticing feel of Cian’s naked butt. Pressing closer to his boyfriend, he smiled as the hard bulge of Cian’s erection pressed into his tummy.
“I’m never going to complain about seeing or feeling more of your arse,” he muttered, very aware of his own rock-hard cock tenting the material of his loose trousers.
“I created a monster,” Cian said before claiming Mitch’s mouth in a heated kiss. He pushed him backward until they tumbled to the bed, their lips never losing contact. Two soft thuds indicated the two bags had bounced off the bed, but Mitch barely registered the noise, too lost in Cian’s mouth and the hungry interaction between their tongues.
“You’re overdressed,” Cian murmured before hurriedly removing Mitch’s clothes. He tugged on his dick, and Mitch lost himself in Cian’s body. As white-hot need rushed through his veins, Mitch couldn’t remember why he had been concerned about Cian’s rugby team or what had triggered the thoughts in the first place.
“I want to fuck you.” He gasped the words at Cian, fully aware this was something they rarely did and that it was the first time he’d verbalized the desire.
“Let me guess,” Cian said, his voice heated. “You’d like me on my knees, with my arse in the air so you can see the straps while you ride me.”
Before Mitch could reply, Cian turned on the bed and presented himself exactly as he’d suggested. The sight took Mitch’s breath away, and for a few moments all he could do was stare at the sheer beauty and incredible hotness of Cian’s well-formed backside. When Cian reached behind him and pulled his cheeks apart, Mitch moaned softly.
“Hey!” Cian glared at Mitch over his shoulder. “This arse isn’t going to fuck itself.”
The joke, expressed in a needy tone of voice, was exactly what Mitch needed. He pulled the tube of lube from the bedside table and squeezed some onto his fingers before making short work of preparing Cian for the coming invasion.
It wasn’t long before Cian was pushing back, trying to fuck himself on Mitch’s fingers, and Mitch took it as a sign. He withdrew his hand, squeezed more lube onto it, and spread it across his cock, grateful they’d decided to forgo condoms shortly after moving in together. Since they were a couple and exclusive as well as each other’s first, they’d agreed to do without the protection.
Fighting his need, Mitch eased his way into the narrow heat. Cian seemed eager enough, but that didn’t change the fact that he rarely bottomed. When the full length of his dick was buried deep inside Cian, Mitch rested, pressing his lips to Cian’s shoulder while their bodies adjusted.
“Will you get a move on.” Cian wiggled his arse, stressing his impatience.
“Your wish…” Mitch didn’t waste any more time on words and pulled back, only to immediately slide into Cian again, relishing the hot grip the tight hole had on his straining cock. He’d forgotten how good this was.
“Fuck, yeah,” Cian groaned. “You feel so good.”
“You too,” Mitch said, struggling for breath. “So tight. This won’t take long.”
He moved faster, pushing in and out of Cian with more force. Already he could feel the telltale tingle in his balls, and he struggled to fight his impending explosion, to extend the pleasure for a few more moments. Cian enthusiastically moving with him intensified every penetration, which didn’t help at all.
When his orgasm hit, Mitch felt it in every inch of his body. Cian’s arse contracting around his erupting cock only enhanced Mitch’s climax. It wasn’t until he’d shot the last drop of cum that Mitch realized he’d completely ignored Cian’s dick and even failed to release it from its pouch.
Still seated deep inside Cian, he lifted one hand and reached for Cian’s cock, expecting to find it throbbing and hard. When his fingers connected with a wet, sticky patch of material instead, he chuckled.
Cian glanced at him again, and Mitch wasn’t sure whether the red glow on Cian’s cheeks was the result of his recent climax or embarrassment over how he’d reached it.
“That was hot,” Cian said. “We’ll have to do it again.”
Mitch couldn’t argue with that. He might not be sure how he felt about Cian joining a gay rugby team, but he had no doubts about how much he loved having a rugby-playing boyfriend.
Cian glanced up at Mitch, inspected his surroundings, and had the grace to grimace and flush. “Sorry about that. I’ll fix it in a min.” He glared at the various items of clothing on the floor, then bent and picked something up. “Gottcha.”
“What’s that?” Mitch squinted at the item consisting more of connected bands of material than solid pieces. He thought he recognized it but didn’t want to hazard a guess and make a fool of himself.
“A jockstrap.” Cian slung one strap over his index finger and swung the piece of underwear around.
“Jockstrap, hey?” Excitement heated Mitch’s blood. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen one of those up close and personal.”
Cian glanced at him, his gaze intense. “I’ll be right back.”
Mitch watched, bemused, as Cian hurried into the bathroom. When Cian returned, moments later, Mitch’s bemusement turned into pure, hot lust when he noticed how well the jock’s pouch encased Cian’s package. “Nice.”
Cian turned on the spot, giving Mitch his first sight of Cian’s bare arse, framed by black straps.
“Very nice.” Mitch didn’t try to hide the heat in his voice. He approached Cian, who had come full circle and faced him again. Wrapping his arms around Cian’s middle, he grabbed both cheeks with his hands and squeezed. “Is there a rule saying you can only wear this when you’re on the field?”
Cian chuckled. “I guess you’re on board with the rugby idea, then?”
Doubts and fears tried to worm their way back into Mitch’s thoughts, but he shrugged them off, concentrating on the familiar and wholly enticing feel of Cian’s naked butt. Pressing closer to his boyfriend, he smiled as the hard bulge of Cian’s erection pressed into his tummy.
“I’m never going to complain about seeing or feeling more of your arse,” he muttered, very aware of his own rock-hard cock tenting the material of his loose trousers.
“I created a monster,” Cian said before claiming Mitch’s mouth in a heated kiss. He pushed him backward until they tumbled to the bed, their lips never losing contact. Two soft thuds indicated the two bags had bounced off the bed, but Mitch barely registered the noise, too lost in Cian’s mouth and the hungry interaction between their tongues.
“You’re overdressed,” Cian murmured before hurriedly removing Mitch’s clothes. He tugged on his dick, and Mitch lost himself in Cian’s body. As white-hot need rushed through his veins, Mitch couldn’t remember why he had been concerned about Cian’s rugby team or what had triggered the thoughts in the first place.
“I want to fuck you.” He gasped the words at Cian, fully aware this was something they rarely did and that it was the first time he’d verbalized the desire.
“Let me guess,” Cian said, his voice heated. “You’d like me on my knees, with my arse in the air so you can see the straps while you ride me.”
Before Mitch could reply, Cian turned on the bed and presented himself exactly as he’d suggested. The sight took Mitch’s breath away, and for a few moments all he could do was stare at the sheer beauty and incredible hotness of Cian’s well-formed backside. When Cian reached behind him and pulled his cheeks apart, Mitch moaned softly.
“Hey!” Cian glared at Mitch over his shoulder. “This arse isn’t going to fuck itself.”
The joke, expressed in a needy tone of voice, was exactly what Mitch needed. He pulled the tube of lube from the bedside table and squeezed some onto his fingers before making short work of preparing Cian for the coming invasion.
It wasn’t long before Cian was pushing back, trying to fuck himself on Mitch’s fingers, and Mitch took it as a sign. He withdrew his hand, squeezed more lube onto it, and spread it across his cock, grateful they’d decided to forgo condoms shortly after moving in together. Since they were a couple and exclusive as well as each other’s first, they’d agreed to do without the protection.
Fighting his need, Mitch eased his way into the narrow heat. Cian seemed eager enough, but that didn’t change the fact that he rarely bottomed. When the full length of his dick was buried deep inside Cian, Mitch rested, pressing his lips to Cian’s shoulder while their bodies adjusted.
“Will you get a move on.” Cian wiggled his arse, stressing his impatience.
“Your wish…” Mitch didn’t waste any more time on words and pulled back, only to immediately slide into Cian again, relishing the hot grip the tight hole had on his straining cock. He’d forgotten how good this was.
“Fuck, yeah,” Cian groaned. “You feel so good.”
“You too,” Mitch said, struggling for breath. “So tight. This won’t take long.”
He moved faster, pushing in and out of Cian with more force. Already he could feel the telltale tingle in his balls, and he struggled to fight his impending explosion, to extend the pleasure for a few more moments. Cian enthusiastically moving with him intensified every penetration, which didn’t help at all.
When his orgasm hit, Mitch felt it in every inch of his body. Cian’s arse contracting around his erupting cock only enhanced Mitch’s climax. It wasn’t until he’d shot the last drop of cum that Mitch realized he’d completely ignored Cian’s dick and even failed to release it from its pouch.
Still seated deep inside Cian, he lifted one hand and reached for Cian’s cock, expecting to find it throbbing and hard. When his fingers connected with a wet, sticky patch of material instead, he chuckled.
Cian glanced at him again, and Mitch wasn’t sure whether the red glow on Cian’s cheeks was the result of his recent climax or embarrassment over how he’d reached it.
“That was hot,” Cian said. “We’ll have to do it again.”
Mitch couldn’t argue with that. He might not be sure how he felt about Cian joining a gay rugby team, but he had no doubts about how much he loved having a rugby-playing boyfriend.
Perfect Gifts by RJ Scott & VL Locey
“So, where do we think she got on the brother kick?” Jared asked as he stirred some of the honey that Adler’d brought us into his mug. Ad had taken up beekeeping. Why? Not a clue, but we all suspected that it was so he could brag about having a big stinger in the locker room. They’d found out Layton was allergic, so he watched the bees from a distance.
“Probably at the indoor playground over in Camp Hill earlier,” I said while dunking a Stella D’oro cookie into my tea. I’d have a few. Cookies were not recommended by the Railers nutritionist as healthy afternoon snacks. “She was playing with Michelle Khan.”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Khan just had a baby,” Jared replied, then added one more dollop of honey to his mug. “A little boy.”
“Yep. She was cooing and cuddling the baby until we left. She even skipped the jungle gym and slide to tickle tiny Joey’s chin.”
Jared’s eyes flared. Lottie never passed the jungle gym and slide. Ever. I’d had to climb in a time or two to extract her when it was time to go. Jared—the old D-man that he was—was too burly to fit. The parents who had gotten to witness a hockey player trying to wedge his shoulders into a skinny tube with monkeys painted on the sides had found it pretty amusing. As had the local press the following day. Nothing says professionalism after just signing a new multi-million dollar contract like being photographed wriggling through the monkey tumble tube.
“That explains it,” he commented as he began thumbing languidly through his daily read of The Patriot News online. The man looked sexy AF in those reading glasses.
“Yeah, I guess.” I nibbled on my cookie, my phone showing a half-read article in The Athletic waiting for me to return to it. “You know we could consider it.” That brought his gaze up from the local news. He studied me over the top of his DILF glasses. “What? It’s not as if we haven’t discussed having another baby. It was kind of always our plan.”
“Well… yes, I know we’ve discussed it.” He removed his glasses, folded them, and laid them by the cookie box. He assessed me intently. “Do you think it’s something we should look at more closely?”
“Maybe?” I reached for another cookie, my sight darting from the cookie to Jared to the window where the glass was coated with a touch of frost around the edges. Fall was here, and it was glorious. We had pumpkins to carve, cider to drink, and Halloween costumes to decide on before the end of the month rolled around. “I mean she is here alone all the time.”
“She’s not alone. She has us, a nanny, and now, a dog.”
“Well yeah, I don’t mean like we Kevin McAllister her or anything, it’s just…” I plucked the cookie from its wrap, then dunked it quickly into my tea, hurrying to get the shortbread treat to my mouth. I chewed, then swallowed. Jared sat across from me waiting patiently for me to make my point. “Okay, so, and never tell them—especially Brady—but having siblings to grow up with was pretty nice. Most of the time.”
Law of Retaliation by Davidson King
CHAPTER ONE
Atlas
Joker’s Sin was decorated perfectly for Halloween. Purple and orange lights wrapped around beams; skeletons hung from high on the ceiling. The smoke machine would send a foggy vibe through the dance floor, and Toby was sure to have little surprises to spook people all night long.
Halloween was one of Joker’s Sin’s busiest nights. It was also an evening where I doubled security, this year in particular. Christopher Manos and his entourage would be attending, and the fact that Bill and Mace would too didn’t sit well with me. They were pains in my ass.
Black was also going to be in attendance with his people, and Ciro had invited his friend Riordan and his husband, Teddy.
It felt rude not to invite Poe and his husband, Phin, since this town was built on the Hart name. Needless to say, it was going to be a busy night.
“How do I look?” Toby spun, a perfect depiction of Willy Wonka.
“Good enough to eat.” I grinned and wrapped my hands around his waist.
“No, no, no. You can’t rumple me.” He eyed me, an amused expression adorning his adorable face. “Prince?”
I glanced down at my outfit, a terrific replica of his “Purple Rain” video, and quirked a brow at Toby. “Yeah. What, is it bad?”
“Prince was five foot two. You’re way, way bigger.” He chuckled. “How did you get all your beautiful hair in that wig?”
“Don’t shun Prince.” I patted my ridiculously expensive wig, which had taken hours to get on. “I don’t give my fashion secrets away.”
“Mhmm.” Toby rolled his eyes and moved over to the bar to make sure the final details were in order before we opened.
Max was in his Danny Zuko getup. He totally pulled off the T-Bird costume. What I couldn’t figure out was how he’d convinced Ledger to dress as Kenickie Murdoch.
“You’re staring,” Shane said as he stepped up next to me.
“Mad Hatter?” I gestured to him.
“I wanted no part of what Max and Ledger were doing. I love Alice in Wonderland, and after Johnny Depp masterfully portrayed the character, I was all in.” He snorted and went about helping fill the bar.
“Line is around the block already.” Ciro’s voice came through my earpiece. He was taking charge of everyone who entered this evening.
“We’ll be opening soon, Rambo.”
Ciro laughed. “Don’t knock my costume—just be happy I dressed up at all.”
“I’m sure Xander will loooooooove it.” I knew for a fact that Xander had taken the easy route and was coming as Gordon Ramsay. A chef dressing as a chef.
“Oh, you know it.”
Ledger was testing out the sound one last time, the bar was pretty much ready, Toby winked by his spot behind his podium, and security was as tight as it was going to be. After a deep breath, I announced, “Open the doors, Ciro.”
It was time to party.
Snow
After one last tweak to my wig, I deemed myself perfectly ready for Halloween and a night of drinks and dancing at Joker’s Sin. Christopher was waiting for me—I suspected they were all waiting, but I’d worked hard to pull this look off. I winked at my reflection in the mirror, grabbed my costume baseball bat, and made my way toward my entourage.
“About frickin’ time,” Bill grumbled when I got halfway down. Of course, I stopped and narrowed my eyes at the man currently wearing a Jason costume.
“First of all, shut up. Second of all—Jason? Really? You didn’t want to go in on my themed idea, and that’s what you chose?”
“It’s classic Halloween, Snow! Harley Quinn is not Halloween materia—”
I took the last few steps and shoved my bat against Bill’s chest. “Finish that sentence, Bill. Go on, do it, and I will show you how Harley Quinn could kill Jason in fifteen ways before he even knows what’s going on.”
“Whoa!” Mace stepped between us, decked out in his Michael Myers getup. “Calm yourselves. Maybe let’s not actually get into character, yeah?”
“Says the man who sided with him.”
“Snow, my love.” Christopher’s silky voice washed over me like sex to a deprived libido. I spun and there he was, the Joker to my Harley Quinn.
“Oh, you even dyed your hair green!” I ran and leaped into his arms, not so easy these days since I wasn’t getting any younger, but he caught me…as always.
“Of course I did.”
I pressed my lips to his, careful not to smudge the makeup on our faces. There’d be time for that later.
“Where’s Simon and Rush?” Frank asked as he and Donny stepped into the foyer. Donny as Jack the Ripper and Frank as Al Capone.
“How original, Frank.” Mace rolled his eyes.
“Fuck off.” Frank walked past us all toward the garage. “I’ll get the car.”
“We’ll need more than one. Simon and Rush are meeting us there.” Mace followed after Frank.
I slid out of Christopher’s arms and sighed. “We will all have a good time tonight or I promise to murder you all in your sleep, understand?”
Grumbles, that was what I got. No respect.
“Okay, assholes. You’ll see, you’ll all see!” I shook my bat.
“Come on, babe.” Chris took my hand, and I followed him through the front door. Frank and Mace would bring the vehicles around, and then it would be time for Halloween fun.
Black
I chose to arrive at Joker’s Sin in a super-stretch limo. It was the only way to fit us all inside and keep us together. Not to mention Quill (going as Robin Hood) decided he needed a rubber bow and arrow, and I (as a Viking) wanted some sort of weapon too. Adhering to Atlas’s rules, which allowed no real instruments of carnage, we went with plastic.
“This is the most mismatched bunch of costumes.” Ginger chuckled, his Daredevil costume rather amazing. Jones went as Kingpin, which worked for Ginger’s costume, but Lee…
“Why Steve Jobs?” I asked him.
“Because he didn’t want to get dressed up and happened to own a black turtleneck and daddy jeans.” Ginger dodged Lee’s playful swat. When Lee offered no rebuttal, I realized Ginger was right.
“Here we are,” the driver said and, without waiting, I opened the door.
“Holy shit, that’s a lot of people.” Quill strapped his bow onto his back and moved to the door.
We were all special guests and therefore didn’t have to wait in line; I didn’t do lines.
“Welcome.” The man grinned and I recognized Ciro, though he was dressed up.
“Good evening, Ciro.”
“No weapons, fighting, or otherwise, gentlemen. I will toss your asses to the pavement if you do.” Ciro went through his spiel with a rather eerie smile. I understood now why he and Riordan were close friends.
“You got it.” I tipped my head and entered the club.
I really needed a drink.
Poe
“Thank you, Rush, for coming to the house before the party. Adelaide has been struggling with that piece, and Simon had mentioned you knew it quite well.”
Rush beamed…Well, one side did. He was going as Two-Face for Halloween, and the makeup was remarkable.
“Absolutely my pleasure. She’s brilliant, and she’s gonna nail it for her concert.”
“I like your costumes,” Simon (who was dressed as the Riddler) said to both me and Phin.
“Poe sort of already looks like a vampire, so it worked out well. I squirted some make-believe blood on a shirt, tore it up a little, made bite marks, and here I am. His willing victim.”
Both men chuckled.
“Shall we go?” I gestured for the door. Since we were all going to the same place, we’d offered them a ride.
“I’m sure it’s going to be an amazing night.” Rush was bouncing in his seat as Phin drove the SUV out of the driveway.
“Atlas sure knows how to throw a party; it’s without a doubt going to be a night to remember.”
One thing about this town that never seemed to go away was the dread. Phin appeared happy as he drove, but I stared out the window and tried to shake the feeling that something horrible was about to happen.
Frank W Butterfield
Frank W. Butterfield is the Amazon best-selling author of 89 (and counting) self-published novels, novellas, and short stories. Born and raised in Lubbock, Texas, he has traveled all over the US and Canada and now makes his home in Daytona Beach, Florida. His first attempt at writing at the age of nine with a ball-point pen and a notepad was a failure. Forty years later, he tried again and hasn't stopped since.
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee.
(Not necessarily in that order.)
She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.
Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.
The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.
Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
When she's not writing you can find her blogging away on Diverse Reader, her review and promotional site. She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she'd tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you're afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
Frank W Butterfield
RJ Scott
VL Locey
EMAIL: vicki@vllocey.com
Helena Stone
EMAIL: helenastoneauthor@gmail.com
Davidson King
EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com
Halloween, 1970 by Frank W Butterfield
On Thin Ice by RJ Scott & VL Locey
Ukuleles & Scrums by Helena Stone
Perfect Gifts by RJ Scott & VL Locey
Law of Retaliation by Davidson King
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