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One Last Note:
Some of those on my list I have read, reread, & even listened/re-listened so I've included the review posted in my latest read/listen. Also, those that are read/re-read as a series the latest review may be an overall series review. If any of the purchase links included here don't work be sure and check the authors' websites/social media for the most recent links as they can change over time for a variety of reasons.
Original Review February 2021:
RATING:
How the Supervillain Stole Christmas by Charles Payseur
Original Review December 2017:
Mummy Dearest by Josh Lanyon
RATING:
Original Review August 2021:
RATING:
Not So Silent Night by Charlie Cochet
RATING:
Hank Edwards
Charles Payseur
Charles Payseur is an avid reader, writer, and reviewer of speculative fiction. His works have appeared in The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy, Lightspeed Magazine, and Beneath Ceaseless Skies, among others, and many are included in his debut collection, The Burning Day and Other Strange Stories (Lethe Press 2021). He is the series editor of We’re Here: The Best Queer Speculative Fiction (Neon Hemlock Press) and a multiple-time Hugo and Ignyte Award finalist for his work at Quick Sip Reviews. When not drunkenly discussing Goosebumps, X-Men comic books, and his cats on his Patreon (/quicksipreviews) and Twitter (@ClowderofTwo), he can probably found raising a beer with his husband, Matt, in their home in Eau Claire, Wisconsin.
Josh Lanyon
Jordan Castillo Price
Charlie Cochet
Charlie Cochet is the international bestselling author of the THIRDS series. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, Charlie enjoys the best of both worlds, from her daily Cuban latte to her passion for classic rock.
Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found devouring a book, releasing her creativity through art, or binge watching a new TV series. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.
Brownie Points by Jordan Castillo Price
Here at Padme's Library I feature all genres but followers have probably noticed that 95% of the posts and 99% of my reviews fall under the LGBT genres, so for this year's Pride Month I am showcasing 20 of my favorite M/M Rom Com reads in no particular order. Most fall into full on romantic comedy, some more dramedy, but there are some where humor is the highlighted emotion and they all generally lead to a perfect blend of romance, drama, healing, and heart, creating unforgettably fun entertaining reads.
One Last Note:
Some of those on my list I have read, reread, & even listened/re-listened so I've included the review posted in my latest read/listen. Also, those that are read/re-read as a series the latest review may be an overall series review. If any of the purchase links included here don't work be sure and check the authors' websites/social media for the most recent links as they can change over time for a variety of reasons.
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The Cupid Crawl by Hank Edwards
Summary:Williamsville Inn
A hook-up app serial dater. A Valentine’s bar crawl. A day that will change their lives.
Carter Walsh will be alone on Valentine’s Day, and his plans include a candy sampler of hook-ups. But once he learns about the Cupid Crawl—a bar crawl covering a half dozen bars, both gay and straight—he decides on a change of plans.
At the first bar, Carter meets Harry, a divorced dad coming out later in life, and he’s far from impressed. Harry’s definitely not the type of guy Carter would ever swipe right for. But as the Cupid Crawl hops from bar to bar, the two seem to naturally gravitate toward each other, and before he realizes it, Carter’s succumbed to the magic of Valentine’s Day and ditched the hook-up app to spend all his time with Harry.
The Cupid Crawl is a funny, sweet, and steamy opposites attract, divorced bi-sexual dad, slight age gap story that takes place in the Williamsville Inn series world, and features characters from the Christmas stories Snowflakes and Song Lyrics by Hank Edwards and Snowstorms and Second Chances by Brigham Vaughn.
The Cupid Crawl is, plain and simple, a rom-com that will delight from beginning to end. Is this the kind of romantic comedy you might find on Hallmark? Doubtful. To be honest, Cupid is way better than just another Valentine's Hallmark-y cliche. "Carter the Farter" is hilarious and yet you can just feel Carter wanting the ground to open up and pull him under when it's announced in public where he's hoping to find some meaningless hook-ups. You can't help but be in equal parts laughing and wanting to wrap him up and tell him it was long ago and nobody cares.
As for Carter, well at times he's a hard pill to take but he quickly gets sucked into your heart and just want him to find his HEA. In Harry you know he just might find that HEA if everything aligns, okay you know they'll find each other to be more than just a hook-up but it's the getting there that is where all the fun lies.
I can't help but feel the more I say the less fun I make it sound, that the story appears to be cliche and formulaic and it isn't so I think I'll just end with pushing the point that The Cupid Crawl is a delightful holiday gem. So whether you read this as a Valentine's story or as a romance later in the year, you won't be sorry. I should also note that I have not yet read Hank Edwards' Christmas entry to the Williamsville Inn series but I don't feel lost in any way, is their a question of Carter's friendship with Will? Maybe but I wasn't lost, I didn't feel that anything was missing.
RATING:
Summary:
Rex Devious -- Dr. Devious to meddlesome do-gooders everywhere -- can go toe-to-toe with superheroes without blinking an eye. So picking out a Christmas present for his new boyfriend should be no problem. After all, he and Sanjay seem perfect for each other. But with a terrible track record for finding gifts that won’t scare his potential partners away, Rex is paralyzed with insecurity.
Until, of course, he decides to change tactics. Instead of having to pick out that perfect present, why not just destroy Christmas altogether? It’s perfect, and definitely the Devious thing to do! But with his nemeses -- and perhaps his conscience -- trying to stop him from ruining the beloved holiday, can he really become the supervillain who stole Christmas?
Now I read Charles Payseur's newest entry in this novella series, The Werewolf Before Christmas just a couple of weeks ago and it was obviously my introduction to his Spandex and Superpowers universe. I love it! I love superhero movies but I will admit that it is not a genre/trope that I read but after reading these that may change.
I think what really intrigues me most about this entry was again, we got to see the supervillain as the center of the story. Rex has not had much luck when it comes to his past relationships and Christmas gift giving so naturally, as a supervillain his solution is to stop the holiday this year instead of finding a gift for his new boyfriend, Sanjay. Apparently, that is easier said than done. I won't give anything away but let me just say this: How the Supervillain Stole Christmas was a delightfully fun, clever, sexy, and surprisingly romantic way to begin my holiday weekend. Whether you read this during the holidays won't matter because you'll be entertained whether Santa is coming down the chimney or lazying away on a weekend getaway in July.
RATING:
I think what really intrigues me most about this entry was again, we got to see the supervillain as the center of the story. Rex has not had much luck when it comes to his past relationships and Christmas gift giving so naturally, as a supervillain his solution is to stop the holiday this year instead of finding a gift for his new boyfriend, Sanjay. Apparently, that is easier said than done. I won't give anything away but let me just say this: How the Supervillain Stole Christmas was a delightfully fun, clever, sexy, and surprisingly romantic way to begin my holiday weekend. Whether you read this during the holidays won't matter because you'll be entertained whether Santa is coming down the chimney or lazying away on a weekend getaway in July.
Summary:
The XOXO Files #1
The truth is out there. Way, way, way out there!
Drew Lawson is racing against the clock. He's got a twenty-four-hour window to authenticate the mummy of Princess Merneith. If he's not at his boyfriend's garden party when that window closes, it'll be the final nail in their relationship coffin.
The last thing he needs traipsing on the final shred of his patience is brash, handsome reality show host Fraser Fortune, who's scheduled to film a documentary about the mummy's Halloween curse.
The opportunity to film a bona-fide professor examining the mummy is exactly the aura of authenticity Fraser needs. Except the grumpy PhD is a pompous ass on leave from his ivory tower. Yet something about Drew has Fraser using a word he doesn't normally have to draw upon: please.
With no time to waste—and a spark of attraction he can't deny—Drew reluctantly agrees to let Fraser follow his every move as he unwraps the mummy's secrets. Soon they're both making moves behind the scenes that even the dead can't ignore!
Original Review October 2014:
Perfect for Halloween, I read Josh Lanyon's short story/novella to quench my eerie thirst. Very reminiscent of the classic Hollywood horror films in that everything isn't laid out before you in great gory detail, it leaves you imagining the scenes in your head. Did Drew and Fraser really see a mummy or is it Halloween illusion? There's humor, a bit of terror here and there, intriguing characters, and of course no Josh Lanyon story would be complete without the yummy. Considering the length or lack thereof, depending on how you choose to see it, this story has a lot of "bang for your buck" as the cliche' goes.
Brownie Points by Jordan Castillo Price
Summary:The ABCs of Spellcraft #9
As a Scrivener and a Seer, Dixon and Yuri possess many talents. Baking is not one of them.
But when a mysterious malady grips Yuri, the two of them must bargain, bluff, and bake their way through Pinyin Bay to find a cure.
Dixon is none too confident in the kitchen, but he'll stop at nothing if it means finding a cure for his grown man friend. Even if that means getting his hands dirty in the flour bin.
Yuri, naturally, makes a terrible patient, and their home remedy attempts are half-baked at best. Can he dredge up the patience to figure out what lies behind his bizarre affliction?
The ABCs of Spellcraft is a series filled with bad jokes and good magic, where M/M romance meets paranormal cozy. A perky hero, a brooding love interest, and delightfully twisty-turny stories that never end up quite where you'd expect.
When I first started The ABCs of Spellcraft I knew right away it was going to be special. Dixon and Yuri are just plain fun! What I didn't expect was it to be one of my favorite series and I definitely look forward to their new adventures.
Speaking of their adventures, Brownie Points starts a new story arc in their journey and it's wonderful. The blending of magic, mystery, humor, family, friendship, and love is pure reading gold. I won't go into too many details but with spellcrafts possibly going wonky, Yuri's skin reaction, Dixon's desire to unravel the cause, and of course Dixon's family . . . well Jordan Castillo Price brings an all around great package to the party.
I've said all along that ABCs of Spellcraft remind me of the old movie serials of the 30s and 40s my parents collect as well as the audiobook versions having a quality of the old radio shows that I collect of the same era. This still rings true for me but it also combines the magical humor of Bewitched and the zany madcappery(and yes I know that's not a real word but I think it's very Dixon-ish) of I Love Lucy but also a hint of The Thin Man's Nick and Nora Charles chemistry between Dixon and Yuri as they trace their way around the spellcraft maze of what went wrong and who wrote what.
If you are new to this Spellcraft universe Jordan Castillo Price has created and wondering if you need to start at the beginning, my answer is "yes". Each arc ties up nicely and each entry has it's own little mysterious wonky-ness going on but if for no other reason than to watch Dixon and Yuri's journey evolve, I can't imagine not reading this series as it was written. The author calls it "cozy paranormal", I didn't even know that was a thing until I discovered this series but however you define it, I call it entertaining that sucked me from the getgo and left me hungering for more.
Volume 3(Books #8-11)
Original Audiobook Review October 2023:
What can I say about the audiobook collection featuring books 8-11 that wasn't said in my original ebook reviews? Honestly? Nothing. Still brilliantly fun with hilariously intriguing characters that never let you rest. Seriously, if you let your guard down even for just a second and are reading/listening to Dixon and Yuri's journeys in a public setting you will find yourself being stared at with renewed sudden bursts of ROTF laughter. So be sure to keep that guard up especially in public so you can have some chance at controlled laughing outbursts to minimize starage😉.
Once again, as far as Nick Hudson's narration, well it's topnotch and perfect for this kind of series that may be made up of standalone-ish entries but listen as a long running sitcom with heart. I've said it before in this series and I'll say it again: between Hudson's voice and Price's words, the entertaining enjoyment I feel is reminiscent of the feels I have when listening to the old radio shows of the 30s, 40s, & 50s that I collect. For those who have never experienced that form of entertainment may not understand but for me that is the highest form of compliment I can give when reviewing audiobooks.
Summary:
The Kings: A Treemendous Christmas #1
Escape to a Winter Wonderland with CEO and billionaire Colton Connolly as he embarks on a shenanigan-filled journey in search of the idyllic white Christmas he's always craved. Inspired by the enchantment of his favorite holiday movies, Colton surprises his beloved husband and their found family with a trip to the captivating mountain town of Winterhaven.
However, beneath the twinkling lights, unexpected trouble awaits. A miscommunication leaves the town in dire straits, threatening to steal away the magic of Christmas. Determined to save the day, Colton rallies his family, ready to overcome any obstacle and ensure that Christmas in Winterhaven is nothing short of perfect.
Join Colton, Ace, and the Four Kings Security family as they embark on a quest to rescue Winterhaven from its frosty woes. Will they succeed in delivering the most unforgettable Christmas imaginable, or will this charming town lose its cherished festivities forever?
* This holiday series is a spin-off from the Four Kings Security Universe. It's recommended that you read the Four Kings Security series, as well as The Kings: Wild Cards series before reading this series as these are established characters who have previously had their own books. The shenanigans begin with Love in Spades, Four Kings Security, Book 1 (Colton and Ace's book).
Original Review December 2023:
I'm not going to say I forgot how much I loved Ace, Colton, and the whole Four Kings gang because it wouldn't be true. I remember it all, all the zaniness, the chemistry, the friendships, the found family, and of course the love.
I'll admit that I read the original Four Kings stories when they were released but sadly I got away from the spinoffs when the pandemic and lockdown really screwed with my reading mojo. Late this summer my mojo finally started to return so I've already got the spinoffs on my 2024 Reading Bucket List. I mention this because not all the couples were known to me but that hasn't stifled any enjoyment so far of The Kings: A Treemendous Christmas holiday series. Love the tweaking of "tremendous" in the series title BTW, so very Ace and his brothers-in-arms quotage area😉.
So onto Not So Silent Night.
Honestly, I'm not going to say too much about the story so that I don't accidentally spoil anyone's personal discovery of The Kings and Boyfriend Collective holiday destination vacation. I will say that I can't think of a better holiday scenario for this group of friends and lovers that have become family.
This first entry shines more focus on Ace and Colton but all the characters are there and they each bring their own brand of quirky. OMG the squirrels! Some couples lose a little of their luster as time goes by but not these guys and certainly not Ace and Colton, I think the chemistry that brought the pair together has only grown and radiates even more brightly.
I can't review Not So Silent Night without mentioning the squirrels, referenced above. Ace fears very few things other than losing Colton and his brothers-in-arms and the found family they are . . . EXCEPT for little furry woodland creatures, i.e. squirrels in this story. Hey I get it, squirrels are EVIL! Three years ago they not only chewed through the wires on my Christmas lights, they actually tried to carry off some of the sockets and bulbs like they do the black walnuts out of my neighbor's tree. Just evil! But Ace? Well I'll just leave it at this: I'll never unsee the big burly former military and current security expert in the oversized tree he was attempting to decide on for the family Xmas tree flailing away trying to defend himself from the squirrel attack(in his opinion) as they perched on his head. That scene alone made my day and the constant teasing from his friends is priceless.
As I mentioned in the beginning I only read the original Four Kings stories so not every character is familiar to me, I don't think you need to know their original journeys to enjoy these holiday treats(I've only read the first 2 so far as the last 2 have yet to be released😉) but I believe a few references and looks between characters would make a more complete picture had I read The Kings: Wild Cards but I was never lost. Definitely a win-win to get you in the holiday mood.
The Cupid Crawl by Hank Edwards
Vic, the organizer, led the way, squeezing past the men and women standing in the doorway and forging a path for Carter to follow. At first, Carter thought he was way overdressed. The men he slid past were shirtless, some wearing just white loin cloths or even cloth diapers along with feathered wings strapped around their broad chests. These men gave him a brief glance, maybe a quick smile, but were busy talking to each other or women who were also baring a lot of skin. Didn’t these people realize it was February in Boston?
When he reached the bar, Carter was relieved to see people wearing shirts and pants instead of just diapers and short shorts. Vic leaned in over the bar and said to the bartender, “Don, this is my good friend, Carter. Put his first two drinks on my tab.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Carter insisted. “I have money.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Carter,” Vic said. “The first two drinks are on me to help you relax. I’m going to make a round of the bar, but when I return, I hope to find you talking with someone, and not just leaning on the bar all alone.”
“I know how to socialize,” Carter said.
“Oh, I’m sure you do.”
Vic winked again before threading his way through the crowd, greeting people as he slid past them. Carter ordered a beer from Don, and then fished a couple of singles out of his wallet for a tip. He lifted his bottle to salute Don and had just taken a swig when a piercingly high voice shrieked from just behind him. The sound startled him so much he choked on his beer and started to cough. He turned, coughing and sputtering, and squinted through his tears at the woman standing behind him.
Auburn hair done up tall, bright green eyes that could be nothing other than colored contact lenses, a pert, upturned nose, and a broad mouth filled with teeth laser-whitened to solar flare level.
Carter’s heart stuttered with surprise and dread as he struggled to clear his airway.
“I saw you walk in and had to come over and see if it was really you!” she exclaimed.
With a final clearing of his throat, Carter managed a smile and said, “Lizzie. Hello! What a treat to see you.”
Lizzie’s smile widened even further and she crossed her arms. It was then Carter noticed she wore what looked like a sports bra with a pair of white wings strapped to her shoulders, and a sheer white shift around her waist that showed off a pair of black panties trimmed with lace.
“As I live and breathe,” Lizzie said with a shake of her head. “Carter the Farter.”
How the Supervillain Stole Christmas by Charles Payseur
Sanj laughed. “I forget that you’ve never really worked in an office,” he said. “But it’s ... I’m not even sure that anyone likes it. Everyone drinks too much except the people who don’t like drinking and take pictures to remind people of how stupid they were acting for the next year. There’s terrible cookies and a tray of cheese and crackers and ...”
“You’re not exactly selling it,” Rex said. It sounded like a nightmare, a torment of fake smiles and repressed frustration.
“But it’s also that feeling,” Sanj said. “Of Christmas. Of childhood and presents and magic and wonder. That must be why people get so upset about it. They remember the Christmases when they were young and it was all about them, and then they see where they are now and ... well ...”
Rex had a sudden vision of his own childhood. Christmas in the castle had always been a grand affair, decorations hung from every window and sconce. And Rathfeld, the butler, standing next to a tree that seemed to take up the entire great room, stoic face betraying just the hint of a smile. And the gifts. His mothers always got him the best gifts. There was the year of the Super Magnet that he used to erase the data on all the computers at his boarding school. He recalled his mothers smiling. And the year of the Freeze Ray he had used to turn the pool into a block of ice to get out of swimming lessons.
The nanobots are present in sufficient quantity to deploy, Audrey said, snapping Rex out of his reveries.
“Do you have fond Christmas memories, then?” Rex asked.
“I’ll tell you sometime when I’m much less sober than I am now,” Sanj said, and they both laughed, leaning against each other, faces close, breath hot in the chill air.
Deploy, Rex thought as he leaned farther forward, his lips finding Sanjay’s, his eyes closing.
Deployment commencing, Audrey said, but Rex was hardly paying attention. Much more urgent was the tongue slipping into his mouth, the hand resting on his hip, the sudden painful heat that seared its way through his entire body.
I’m detecting a deviation from protocol, Audrey said. It pulled at the corner of Rex’s mind, but he didn’t stop, didn’t want to stop the way Sanjay’s hands had moved around to his back, to his ass. There was a gasp from nearby, and Rex felt a swell of worry. They were in public, after all, and as much as he wanted this to continue, he knew they couldn’t ... not here.
He broke the kiss, pulling back and -- and what the fuck?
I’m detecting a deviation from protocol, Audrey said.
Rex blinked. She wasn’t kidding. The entire tree lot was lit up. Not with rapidly disintegrating Christmas trees, though. He realized that the gasp had nothing to do with him and Sanjay making out among the trees. No, it was at the brilliant light displays going on in each and every tree present. Somehow the nanobots were ...
Instead of deconstructing the trees at a prodigious rate, as intended, the nanobots seem to be slowly eating the organic material and transforming the power into luminescence.
They were glowing. The entire lot was glowing with hundreds of millions of nanobots flickering like fireflies on the branches, among the needles. Rex stared, saw everyone around him doing the same. It was ... magical.
“But ... how?” Rex whispered. There was no way that his protocols could have been that far off. They were devouring the trees, yes, but would they complete their job in time?
According to my calculations, the trees will be completely digested about a week after Christmas, leaving no waste or mess. The bots seem to be programmed to self-destruct at the stroke of midnight, giving off small puffs of light.
Fireworks for New Years. Great.
And I’m getting an incoming message from Tech Knight. Ey says, “I fixed your little nanobots for you. No need to thank me.”
Tech Knight. Figured. Of course Metro City’s resident supernerd would stick eir nose into his plans. Rex turned to Sanjay, saw the smile spread across his face.
“It’s ... perfect,” Sanj said.
Rex sighed, shook his head, and wrapped his arms around Sanjay again. It was beautiful, Rex had to admit, and it did mean that no one was paying any attention as Rex leaned back in for another kiss.
Mummy Dearest by Josh Laynon
Chapter One
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago—in fact, in the Sixth Dynasty, which was way before anyone used the phrase once upon a time—there was a beautiful princess. But like all beautiful princesses, not to mention everyone else on the planet, Princess Merneith fell prey to time and tide, and she eventually wound up in the Lasse Dime Museum in Walsh, Wyoming. Population 1999.
I know what you’re thinking, but there are worse places you could wind up, I guess, including—according to legend—as fuel for the locomotive fires upon which some of the princess’s kinfolk landed when railroads were built across Egypt.
Merneith’s empty eye sockets stared up at me from the browned linen swaddling coyly concealing the rest of her petrified features. I leaned closer, nose nearly pressing the glass lid of the display case. She was so tiny inside that bundle of rags…
“How art the mighty fallen,” a voice murmured from behind me.
I didn’t quite jump, but I did straighten so fast I almost decapitated myself on the strategically placed Indian tomahawk display. I’d thought I was alone in the exhibit room. As it was, it took me a few seconds to locate the source of the voice in the surrounding jumble of shrunken heads, taxidermy and miscellaneous junk. A plump, elderly woman, her gray hair in short braids, regarded me with hopeful expectancy.
“Did you say something?” I asked. I was hoping it was her and not one of the stuffed critters.
She smiled. I was struck by the beauty of her eyes. Despite her evident age, they were a wide and sparkling aquamarine.
“The princess.” She nodded at the display case. “Kind of looks like a piece of driftwood, doesn’t she?”
“Well, I never really th—”
“You’re with the film crew?”
She was so eager, I was sorry to have to disappoint her. “No.” I couldn’t help asking, “What film crew?”
“You’re not with the film crew? Aren’t they coming?”
“I don’t know.” She seemed so anxious I felt like I should apologize. Or at least explain. “I’m Drew Lawson. I wrote Dr. Solvani about examining the princess.”
She looked as uncomprehending as the glassy-eyed stuffed beaver on the pedestal behind her.
“I’m writing a paper on her. The princess.”
“Oh? Babe Jenson.” She offered a hand and pumped mine energetically. “Dr. Solvani is so forgetful these days. Didn’t say a word to me.”
My heart sank. This sounded like a delay in the making—and I was on a tight schedule. Even tighter than usual. “He didn’t?”
She was shaking her head regretfully. “Nope. I’m afraid the doctor must have forgotten all about the mysterious people too.”
“The…mysterious people?”
“That would be me.” The new voice was suave and male. It belonged to a stocky young guy about my age with sandy hair, neatly trimmed beard and long-lashed hazel eyes.
“Oh, thank heavens,” Babe exclaimed. “I was starting to worry about you.”
That seemed to be the looked-for response. The guy gazed at me expectantly.
“Er… Hi.” I nodded politely, convinced by now that everyone in this little shop of horrors was wacko.
“Fraser Fortune,” he prodded.
“Hi,” I repeated.
His confident smile faltered. “Fraser. Fortune. The Mysterious.”
“The mysterious…?”
I thought I was conveying polite inquiry, but maybe I just looked hard of hearing. He repeated forcefully, “THE. MYSTERIOUS.”
“The mysterious what?” Now I was getting impatient too. Anyway, what kind of a name was Fraser Fortune? It sounded like the hero of one of those goofy old 1920s adventure novels. Dick Daring and the Lost City. Dick Daring in the Foreign Legion, Dick Daring and the Secret of the Moldering Museum.
Dick—er, Fraser—was now looking at me with disgust. “The Mysterious. It’s only one of the top-rated documentary series on TV right now.”
I snorted. “You mean that thing where they supposedly investigate ancient, weird or paranormal phenomenon and then wrap it all up in half an hour for the at-home viewers?”
His rosy complexion faded. He drew himself up to his full height—he was just a fraction shorter than me. “Yeah. That long-running, top-rated, award-winning thing that I produce, write and host.”
Babe’s chuckle interrupted our exchange of civilities. “Now, I thought for sure you must be a TV person. You’re so handsome.”
Fraser and I turned as though we’d choreographed our moves. She was beaming at me. I heard Fraser hitch a little breath. I reached in my pocket for my glasses and slipped them on.
“No. I’m a college professor. Do you think I could talk to Dr. Solvani?”
Babe looked apologetic in the face of my mounting desperation. “Dr. Solvani didn’t come in today. The doctor usually doesn’t come in on…” her voice lowered, “…this day.”
“Friday?”
“Halloween,” Fraser supplied irritably. He didn’t actually add dumbshit, but the implication was clear.
I ignored him. Pointedly. “Do you have a way of getting in touch with him? This was all supposed to be arranged—”
Even before I finished speaking, Babe was shaking her head, her braids flying out with the vehemence of her feeling. “No. Oh no. I’m afraid Dr. Solvani can’t be reached.”
Fraser continued to stand there openly listening to our conversation. I gave him a discouraging look. It flew right over his head like a twittering soul departing for the Underworld.
“Well…” I chewed my lip. Fraser and Babe watched me as though waiting for something. “Then may I go ahead and examine the princess? It’s supposed to be all ar—”
“No way,” Fraser interrupted.
“Excuse me?”
“No way.” He met my look with one equally stony. “We’re filming here today. We’re just about to start setting our equipment up.”
“That’s true.” Babe, uncomfortable and apologetic, was suddenly avoiding my gaze. She used the corner of her flowered smock to wipe dust off the edge of a credenza.
“But I’ve got Dr. Solvani’s letter right here.” I unzipped my day planner.
“And I’ve got a signed contract.”
I stared at Fraser. He stared right back, and beneath that cocky, self-satisfied grin was a purpose harder than Egyptian basalt.
It galled me to have to try and conciliate him when the antipathy between us had been instant and instinctive, but I could see from Babe’s unhappy expression that if I wanted to examine the princess, I’d need Fraser’s cooperation.
“It won’t take me very long. Probably no more than an hour at most. If I promise to stay out of everyone’s way—”
He was shaking his head. The look of fake regret on his boyish face made me want to strangle him.
“Look.” I tried for a pleasant, reasonable tone. I think I managed constrained. “I’m only here for the day. I’m flying out tomorrow morning.”
He spread his hands and shrugged in a sorry-no-can-do.
“Why?”
He was only too pleased to spell it all out. “Because it’s not practical, for one thing. We’re going to be setting up lights and cameras and reflectors and mics. The crew is going to be moving around. And the focus of all that is Princess Merneith. Okay? So we can’t have you sitting there in the middle of everything with your tape measure and chainsaw.”
“Tape measure and chainsaw?” I remembered that pleasant, reasonable people didn’t shout. “I’m not dismembering her. I just want to examine the mummy and take a few photos.”
“No.”
I turned to Babe. I could see by her expression she wished I hadn’t. “I’m…erm…sorry,” she stammered. “Mr. Fortune does have a contract.”
“And I have a letter and permission from Dr. Solvani.” I knew I was wasting my breath, but on top of my genuine frustration with not being able to accomplish what I’d traveled a thousand miles to do, I really, really hated to let that arrogant prick, Fraser Fortune, win this bout.
“You could come back Sunday,” Babe offered. “You can have the museum all to yourself.”
Like that would be an issue? The place was a tomb. Literally.
“I’ll be in San Francisco on Sunday. I have a garden party to attend.” I winced inwardly even as their expressions altered. I didn’t mean it to come out sounding like Lord Whipplesniffle looking down his long nose at the serfs. As a matter of fact, the last thing I wanted was to go to this fucking garden party. But Noah had basically made it an ultimatum.
“Of course you do,” Fraser drawled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Actually I had a pretty good idea what it was supposed to mean.
He smirked, and I reminded myself that pleasant, reasonable people do not punch each other either, even if one of them was totally begging for it. The funny thing was, I’d sort of had the impression that he might be gay. It seemed the old gaydar was on the blink.
If a shrug could be insolent, Fraser’s was. “Just that you look like the kind of guy who would spend an afternoon at a garden party and then go home and watch PBS while you sip sherry in your smoking jacket and ascot.”
Oh yeah, I’d’ve dearly loved to smack him in that rosebud-shaped mouth of his. He had perfectly straight little white teeth. Almost like baby teeth. They were too cute—like I imagined he was, hosting his god-awful TV show. Now that I thought about it, I did sort of recognize him from the obnoxious ads for his stupid show.
Oh sweet mystery of life! That was their idiot slogan. Usually flung from the grinning lips of Mr. Fortune as he was hanging upside down or falling off a mountain or leaping out of range of something potentially poisonous.
“Now, now,” Babe said nervously, reading my expression correctly. “I’m sure no one needs to get nasty. Mr. Fortune, maybe you could let Mr. Lawson—”
“Doctor Lawson.”
“Doctor Lawson, I mean.” She turned pink, and I felt like more of an ass than ever. I honestly wasn’t the kind of guy who felt he needed to impress people with his title. I think maybe I said it because I knew it would irritate Fraser—and I could see by the mulish set of his jaw that it did.
But that really didn’t do me any good because it just made him all the more determined to thwart me. “Sorry,” he was saying, shaking his head. “Can’t help you. Nothing personal.”
I stared at him. He stared right back. Enjoying his moment of triumph.
“Fine.” I said to Babe, “If Dr. Solvani should call—”
But she was shaking her head too.
I left them in the shadowy bowels of the museum like two bobblehead dolls commiserating with each other.
The princess slept on in her glass coffin.
Swell. Now what?
I left the museum and stalked out to the small shady parking lot. There were a total of five vehicles including a battered white van at the far end which looked like it hadn’t moved in a decade, a small blue Prius, and my rental car. My rental was nearly boxed in by a large black van which had the words The Mysterious and a website URL painted in silver and purple with sparkly wingdings. Three guys were unloading gear down a ramp and carrying it to the ivy-covered front porch of the museum. The fifth car was a vintage station wagon. It was parked near the van. Two lanky, long-haired blonde girls in bell-bottoms were exchanging clipboards and laughing. Everybody seemed to be in very good humor, which made me feel all the more morose.
What the hell was I supposed to do with myself for the next twenty-two hours? Walsh seemed pretty limited in its entertainment options. My motel didn’t even offer pay-per-view.
I stared across the street at the feed-store sign swinging lazily in the autumn breeze. On the other side of the museum was a small park. Through the wall of trees I could hear childish voices shrieking something that could have been pleasure or could have been outrage.
If it wasn’t for Noah’s mother’s garden party, I’d change my flight reservation, but missing that shindig was not an option. Not if I wanted to save my relationship with Noah—and I certainly did. How could Noah doubt it?
In fact, if anyone should be feeling insecure—
But neither of us should feel insecure because we loved each other. We were just going through a rough patch, and the disapproval of his family and the doubts of some of our colleagues didn’t help.
One of the girls standing by the van smiled at me. I smiled back automatically. She perked up.
Oops. Enough of that. I hunted for my keys and continued briskly on to my car. Maybe I could use my stay in Purgatory to catch up on some other work. I’d go back to the hotel, treat myself to a decent lunch, maybe have a nap, and then I’d see if I could get any work done. It seemed like I was always running behind on some project or other these days.
And this evening I’d find something to entertain myself. I’d noticed on my drive through town that their little theater was showing a vintage double feature of Boris Karloff in The Mummy and Bela Lugosi in Dracula. That might be fun. A refreshing change from Rocky Horror Picture Show, anyway.
And, yes, it was a drag to have wasted the money and time on a flight to Wyoming when Noah and I could have spent this weekend together and gone to a couple of the Halloween faculty parties we’d been invited to—or even stayed home with the lights off. We didn’t have many home-alone nights lately. Not together anyway.
I climbed in the rental, turned the key in the ignition and began the slow process of maneuvering my way out from behind the equipment van. No way in hell was I asking them to move for me, although I wasn’t sure why since it would have inconvenienced them nicely, but it was a matter of pride to be able to angle my way out of that slot.
The girl who had smiled at me came around and mimed asking the truck to move. I shook my head decidedly. No way. Everything under control.
She chewed nervously on her pen as I continued to edge past the immaculate paint job and gleaming chrome.
At last I was clear. I threw one last reluctant look back at the ivy-draped front of the museum. Fraser Fortune stood on the porch beneath the faded sign that proclaimed Lasse Dime Museum in letters the color of dried blood. He seemed to be looking for something in the parking lot, and apparently it was me.
He put his hand up in unspoken command, came down the steps and started briskly across the shady lot. He passed his crew, and they called out various smart-aleck comments. He grinned good-humoredly and tossed back equally unflattering observations.
As Fraser reached my car, I pressed the button and the automatic window rolled down. He leaned into the car, resting his hands on the window frame, his head level with mine.
“Uh, look,” he said.
I looked. His lashes were very long and gold-tipped, his skin smooth and lightly tanned. His beard was the color of ripe wheat. He smelled surprisingly nice, although I couldn’t quite place the scent. White tea and lemon blossom and sunlit ocean? Clean.
“Maybe we can help each other.”
“How’s that?” I asked warily.
“It just occurred to me…”
I watched him narrowly. He was right in my personal space. His lashes flicked up, he met my eyes, his lashes flicked down. My unease grew.
“She’s right. Babe, I mean. You’re…probably pretty photogenic. You’ve got that cheekbone thing. Assuming you don’t turn into a total dweeb on camera, we could use you. We like to interview experts for each segment, and you clearly think you’re an expert.”
Gee, what a people pleaser this guy was. “What is it you’d want from me?”
His cheeks got a little pinker. “I just told you. You can examine the princess, but we’ll film you doing it. Then I’ll interview you.”
“You’re kidding.”
He looked straight at me. “No, I’m not kidding. Why not?”
What was he doing leaning in my car window? He was practically in my face, practically close enough to rub noses.
A bizarre thought. I talked myself away from it. “Do you know what publish or perish means?”
He shrugged—or would have had there been enough space. “Yeah. Of course. It’s the code you sheltered academic types live by. You have to publish enough books and scholarly articles in whatever your field is so your department heads think you’re worth keeping around.”
“Ha. Well, you’re right. Sort of. Getting enough articles published in the right places can make a difference between getting tenure and not getting tenure. But all the scholarly academic articles in the world won’t help me get tenure if I turn up on your monster-of-the-week show.”
Far from insulted, Fraser smiled complacently. “I knew you’d seen the show.”
“I’ve seen enough to know what your show is about.” I mimicked him on those stupid ads. “Oooh. Sweet mystery of life!”
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to strike a pose. I’m not ashamed of what I do. I’m offering you a big opportunity.”
“Well, thanks. But no thanks.”
He rose too fast and banged his head on the roof of the car. “Ouch.” He rubbed the back of his head. “God, you are such an arrogant ass.”
That stung. I didn’t care what he thought of me, but I wasn’t arrogant. “I am not. All I’m saying is that your show is not exactly about scholarship.”
“How would you know? According to you, you’ve never actually watched it.” He stopped rubbing his head and glared at me.
It wasn’t so much that he was right, it was the fact that just for a second he looked genuinely hurt.
I said, “Answer me this. Why are you here?”
“To do a segment on the princess.”
“Why?”
He looked uncomfortable. It was fleeting, but I knew I didn’t imagine it. “Because she’s interesting.”
“She’s four thousand years old. She’s not Princess Diana. She’s a mummy.”
“So’s Princess Diana by now.”
That time I didn’t bother to hide my distaste, although I was vaguely surprised to hear my tongue cluck in the exact same sound Noah made when he disapproved of something. “You’re doing a segment on the princess’s mummy because of that idiotic story about a curse.”
His hazel eyes kindled with the light of the true fanatic. “What if it’s not just a story?”
“Oh come on.”
“It’s true.”
“What’s true?”
Fraser said with every appearance of sincerity, “It might not be just a story. We’ve got a number of eyewitness accounts.”
“Of what?” I curled my lip. “What do these supposed eyewitnesses say?”
“They say that every October thirty-first, the princess rises from her grave.”
Brownie Points by Jordan Castillo Price
1
Dixon
My mother always says, show me a person who doesn’t like free stuff, and I’ll show you a big, fat liar. Me, personally? I love a good freebie. Absolutely adore them. And so the annual Shop the Bay trade show was my favorite event of the year.
Shop the Bay was not a public event. It was only open to retail stores looking for wholesale goods. But Practical Penn was a retail store… technically. Maybe my office in the back of the shop was more of a repository for loud amphibians, and maybe the last work Yuri did was change a lightbulb no one else could reach, but Yuri and I were Practical Penn employees.
Technically.
And that was good enough for me.
The Bayside Convention Center stretched out before us like a glimmering sea of possibility. While it’s true that the giveaways were all printed with some random business logo, most of the time you could scrape it off… or at least put a sticker over it. There were key fobs. There were water bottles. There were squishy little foam balls that purportedly provide some sort of stress relief. But best of all… there were pens.
You might think that a guy who’s trained his whole life to wield a specialized writing implement— a magical hand-cut quill— would turn his nose up at a cheap, disposable pen. But I love making marks on paper, whether or not those marks harness the power of Spellcraft. And it’s always fun to put a new pen through its paces and really see what it can do. I’d managed to gather up every pen in sight, from felt tip to ballpoint.
Yuri, meanwhile, appeared to be in the market for things like emery boards and back-scratchers and dinky little magnetic calendars with dates so small you could barely see them. Yuri has the predilections of someone at least two and a half times his age. Whether this was the result of growing up in Russia or his natural bent of personality, I couldn’t say. I just knew it was adorable.
We’d drifted apart— me to a table with pens that had multicolored ink, Yuri to a podiatrist’s booth. It was getting late. My pockets bristled with so many pens that my pants gave off a plasticky brreeeet with every step I took, and we’d still need to figure out what to do for dinner. Yes, there was still some take-and-bake pizza in the fridge. But after a couple of days, those slices are more like a doorstop than a dinner. Speaking of which….
“Say, Yuri.” I sidled up to him so I didn’t have to shout over the crowd and pitched my voice flirtily. “Is that a doorstop in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
He blinked. “It is promotional doorstop.”
Such a cutie.
I was about to nudge Yuri toward the parking lot when he suddenly stiffened. Not in a doorstop kind of way, either. More like a predator with something vulnerable and tasty in its sights. I tried to follow his gaze as best I could, but saw nothing but the backs of a bunch of heads. I went up on tiptoe and still saw nothing. I was about to give up and ask, when the crowd parted and it hit me: the alluring smell of chocolate.
I don’t have a major sweet tooth— not like Yuri— but the smell was so enticing, so good, I half-expected it to turn into a cartoon hand beckoning us forward. We weren’t the only ones to notice. While the Shop the Bay was thinning out and some of the vendors were even starting to pack up for the day, the crowd around Bruno’s Brownies was more of a mob scene.
But crowds have a way of making room for Yuri. Often punctuated by sort of “oof” sound you’d make when an elbow connected with your ribs.
As we elbowed our way toward the front, I found a big brute of guy hacking a sheet of brownies into cubes and dealing them onto tiny paper plates. He wore an apron embroidered with the name Bruno— a normal-sized apron, I presume, but on his burly frame it looked more like a front-facing thong. Not only did he have the physique of a grizzly prepping for hibernation, but he was just as hirsute. I come from a long line of hairy guys— though I’m told I’m more of an otter than a bear cub— and even I was impressed by Bruno’s follicles. Chest hair bulged from the neck of his shirt. His forearm hair was more of a pelt. His beard was thick enough to merit its own hairnet. But despite all his fur, the thing that struck me the most about Bruno was his eyes. Small and sweet, blinking as though he’d just woken up from a long winter’s nap… and completely overwhelmed by the bloodthirsty mob demanding his treats.
“One per customer,” the frazzled baker entreated, though if anyone heeded his pleas, it was only because they were shoved out of the way before they could help themselves to seconds.
As fast as Bruno could put those brownie samples out, they disappeared. And when a voice over the loudspeakers announced that Shop the Bay would be closing in ten minutes, the mob grew even more frantic.
At his side, a tiny woman in a chef coat two sizes too big was doling out the paper plates as fast as he could fill them. Her blondish hair was in a sloppy ponytail on top of her head, though maybe it had started the day more contained and just ended up looking messy. Despite the fact that she came off like a kid playing dress-up, she had the cheerful confidence of an adult as she worked the crowd. “Bruno’s brownies are made only from the finest ingredients, from fair-trade chocolate, to organic flour, to locally sourced cream, butter and honey. Your customers will really taste the difference!”
Maybe so… if you could manage to get your hands on one.
The brownies were going alarmingly fast, and the people within reach of Yuri’s elbows were falling like bowling pins. But when a girl of about seven or eight popped up in front of him, Yuri somehow stayed his elbow mid-jab. The kid was clearly into the color pink. Little pink T-shirt. Little pink baseball cap. Little pink jeans with a glitzy silver belt. And a little pink tongue that poked out at Yuri as she snatched up the last brownie and darted away, blowing raspberries. “Better luck next time, Chubby!”
“You’re better off without the brownies, if you ask me,” declared a desperate voice from over my shoulder. “Sweets are terrible for your blood sugar and your teeth.”
I turned and found a tall beanpole of a guy watching the crowd cruise past his stall. His shop was Herb’s Herbs and Veggies, according to the big, pumpkin-shaped sign. Why was it that only the second H was silent? Unless Yuri was pronouncing the word… but he’d picked up a lot of his pronunciation from British TV. Anyway, Herb still had plenty of samples to give away— but no takers. And now that he’d caught my eye, he seemed really invested in engaging my attention.
Herb was a middle-aged guy with a long, wispy ponytail and a tie-dyed shirt. But he wasn’t one of those relaxed hippies you see sprawled in the corner of a coffee shop nursing a single soy latte. He was the sort who’d earnestly thrust a clipboard in your face to get you to sign a petition for some cause or another.
And in this case, the cause was produce.
“Most people know tomatoes are actually a fruit,” he informed me, “but did you know their classification as a vegetable was for taxation purposes? As if something as glorious as a plant can be governed!”
“Er… can’t say that I did.”
“Did you know that in the seventeenth century, carrots were originally purple, but were bred to be orange?”
“Oh. How about that?”
“And did you know the apples you buy in the supermarket can be as much as a year old?” Don’t get me wrong— I love it when someone’s passionate about advocating for their cause. I’ve just never found vegetables particularly appealing unless they were covered in a bright orange blanket of cheese.
“Fascinating…” I started edging away. “But, wow, would you look at the time?”
The thing about tall people is that they take really big strides on their long, gangly legs, and before I could blend back into the brownie hubbub, Herb was shoving a little paper cup into my hand. A cup filled with something that looked suspiciously like wood chips.
“Herb’s herbs and veggies are grown right here in Pinyin Bay, not shipped from halfway across the world. I use a special, year-round hydroponic growing system I developed myself. And they’re preserved using time-tested, all-natural methods like brine and fermentation and sunshine. Don’t settle for anything less!”
“Indeed I won’t,” I assured him brightly, then dodged around a chubby guy with brownie residue clinging to the corners of his mouth, and finally made my getaway.
The mob was only just starting to thin, but Yuri’s shaved head is easy to spot. I checked in with him to see if the brownie folks had put out more product while I was being waylaid by Herb, but unfortunately, Bruno and his bubbly assistant were packing up shop with no more brownie samples to be had. It looked like we were out of luck— at least until I noticed a smug-looking guy threading through the crowd in the opposite direction, holding not one tiny paper plate aloft, but two.
No fair!
Instinctively, I called out, “Say, is that the Pinyin Bay Perch?” When Two-Brownie Guy paused to look, I made a grab. Thanks to my otter-like reflexes, I came away with half of his ill-gotten gains… and left a cup of dried veggie chips in its place.
The brownie was halfway to my mouth when I turned back and saw Yuri gazing forlornly at the now-empty brownie table. As good as the goodie might smell (and it smelled really good) I could hardly keep it for myself. Shielding my prize with my body, I sidled up to Yuri, jostled him playfully with my shoulder, and said, “Gee, what a shame we didn’t find this booth sooner. And now the samples are all gone.” I waggled my eyebrows at him and whipped out the brownie cube with a flourish. “All except… this one!”
It was a big one, too.
Yuri’s expression transformed from disappointment to glee— well, as close to glee as Yuri gets, but by now I can read him pretty darn well. He snatched the brownie from my hand as if it might disappear and shoved it in his mouth. But just as he was about to bite down, he said, “Should we split it?” That’s what I understood through the brownie and the sexy Russian accent, anyhow.
I patted Yuri on his bulging bicep. That handsome hunk of man-meat has had a hard life. He’s guarded and suspicious and even a tad bit pessimistic, and I think that’s what makes it especially satisfying to see him really enjoy himself. Even outside the bedroom. “You eat the whole thing, Yuri. I’m sure it can’t be any sweeter than watching you enjoy it.”
That declaration brought a blush to Yuri’s cheeks… but he wasn’t too embarrassed to scarf down the entire brownie in two bites.
Satisfied, I turned to the table. There was nothing left but a few crumbs, a scattering a paper plates… and a business card.
Bruno’s Brownerie
Bruno Baer, Proprietor
Wholesale Orders Only
I tucked the card into my pocket, wheels turning. “My parents’ shop might not be in food service, but the strip mall is zoned for restaurants— Practical Penn even shares an entire wall with the pizza place— so technically, we should be able to place a wholesale order. How many brownies do you suppose that would entail? A gross? Isn’t that a funny unit of measurement, considering that those brownies are anything but gross? I wonder how it came to be that the word for ‘twelve dozen’ and ‘completely disgusting’ is the same— probably a major case of buyer’s remorse was at the root of it. And how confusing is it for you when English words have two entirely different meanings?”
“Everything about your language is confusing,” Yuri said, though the words weren’t as harsh as they might have been, given that they were thick with brownie. His cheeks went an even brighter red.
I could count the number of times I’ve made Yuri blush on one hand and still have enough fingers leftover for tiddlywinks, so I really did my best not to stare, so as not to make him feel too self-conscious. And yet, the sight of him looking all flushed sent my thoughts spiraling down a much more lascivious route. I gave his massive arm another firm pat, then went up on tiptoe and purred in his ear, “Homophones might be confusing, but I know a vocabulary that the two of us speak loud and clear.” I took Yuri’s face in both hands (with the intent of adding the word “naked” to avoid any potential ambiguity) when I realized his cheeks were unnaturally hot to the touch.
And even as I watched, the blush resolved itself into two clusters of bright red spots.
Not So Silent Night by Charlie Cochet
Chapter One
“I’m going to murder you!”
Ah, ’tis the season.
Nothing said holiday spirit like a good old-fashioned murder threat. One of these days, his husband’s brothers-in-arms might go through with it. Ace had that effect on people. Right now, he was having that effect on Joker. Because if you were going to tempt fate, why not do it with the most explosive of the bunch?
“Is it my fault you decided to step into the center of that particular roll of lights?” Ace asked, moving away slowly.
“The floor is nothing but rolls of lights, Anston!”
Joker wasn’t wrong. An ocean of Christmas lights covered the concrete floor of their expansive garage. Ace just happened to pull on the strand of lights attached to the roll Joker had stepped in. He’d yanked, and well…here they were. Meanwhile, Chip—Joker’s Belgian Malinois—had decided the strings of lights were evil and, therefore, must be destroyed. Any time a strand of lights moved, he pounced like a giant black rabbit. Thankfully, he didn’t see the need to bite the strands, only to land on them with his front paws, killing the beast dead and saving his people from being attacked.
Colton sighed. He’d expected this. Quite frankly, this was only the beginning. As sweet as the sentiment was, nothing good could come of his husband wielding a staple gun. As a former Green Beret, Ace was an expert at many things. DIY was not one of those things. Mostly because Ace had a habit of trying to enhance whatever home improvement he’d decided to work on. Merely fixing the thing was not an option.
This usually resulted in incidents like the water pressure being so strong that the shower head exploded, embedding itself in the tile wall. Good thing his husband had killer reflexes and had ducked in time. Then there was the time he “fixed” the dishwasher. Colton had turned it on, only for it to start shaking. He’d quickly jumped out of the way moments before the machine shot out from its space beneath the counter. Water went everywhere.
Joker growled at the uncooperative roll of lights in his hands. “Tell me again why we’re decorating your ginormous mansion when your obnoxiously rich husband has professional decorators who come out every year?”
Again, not wrong.
“Because this way, it’s more personal. You get the satisfaction of knowing you did it yourself,” Ace replied through gritted teeth as he attempted to untangle another giant ball of lights.
By “yourself,” Ace really meant “with a small army of former Green Berets.”
“This was rolled perfectly last year and in a box! How is it tangled? Stupid lights.” Ace huffed and put the roll on the floor. Picking up a new one, he plugged it in. Nothing happened. “Motherfricking shirtballs! I checked every single one of these last week!”
There was something not quite right about his husband’s colorful rants against the backdrop of “Sleigh Ride” by the Ronettes.
“Yeah, this one’s not lighting up either,” Joker said, his frown deep. He placed it on the floor, and it rolled, which, of course, drew Chip’s attention. He sped over and pounced. The roll of lights soared off the garage floor in a glorious arc, hit the inflatable snowman, ricocheted, and smacked Ace in the head. He reeled back, and Colton jumped to his feet.
“Ace—”
Too late.
Ace tripped on the roll of lights behind him. He turned to catch himself only to tangle his feet further until gravity triumphed, and he hit the floor. Hard.
“Owwww.” Ace groaned, and Joker laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes. Chip stood over Ace, tail wagging and tongue lolling out. “What? You don’t get praise for that. I thought we were buds!”
Chip barked, licked Ace’s face, then happily trotted away to Joker, who patted his head. “Good boy.”
Colton helped Ace up. He could practically see the wheels turning in his husband’s head. “Why don’t we take a little break? I bet Red’s Christmas cookies have cooled off.”
As expected, whatever terrifying idea Ace had been contemplating vanished at the mention of Christmas cookies, much like the brief winter breeze they’d had this morning. They were back to eighty degrees in December.
Like every year, there was little chance of a frosty Christmas in Florida and no chance of a white Christmas. They headed inside the cool, air-conditioned house, the sound of their family’s laughter and chatter warming his heart and making him smile.
When Colton had first met Ace, he’d never expected to fall in love with the man, much less inherit the kind of family he’d spent a lifetime wishing he had. They were a complicated, boisterous, and quirky group, and Colton wouldn’t change a thing.
As usual, their gentle giant, Red, was cooking, baking, and singing along to the holiday music while his boyfriend, Laz, decorated cookies and cupcakes. Ace’s cousin Lucky and his cowboy, Mason, were inspecting the Christmas tree. Lucky had strong opinions on what should and should not go on the tree. Tinsel was absolutely out of the question. Something about waking up from a nap and being covered in it? No doubt Ace had been involved.
Jack sat on the couch with his laptop, creating a complex music and lighting sequence while his boyfriend, Fitz, snuggled with his fluffy black poodle, Duchess. Leo’s joyous laughter was infectious as he chased and played with Chip, who’d dashed straight for his favorite human the moment they’d stepped inside. Meanwhile, Leo’s fiancé, King, conversed with Joker’s boyfriend, Gio.
Joker was the last person Colton would have expected his best friend to have fallen for. The two were so different. One was a former Green Beret explosives expert turned bodyguard, the other a billionaire philanthropist who’d traveled the globe helping people. Colton had worried for Gio, afraid Joker would break his heart, but in the end, the two were perfect for each other.
At times, Colton couldn’t believe how their family had grown over the last few years. He was so happy the rest of the Kings and the Wild Cards found love, especially with the men he’d come to care for so deeply.
Ace wrapped his arms around Colton as Joker joined Leo and Chip in play. Gio gave the command to Cookie, relieving his Golden Retriever from his service dog duties so he could run off and join the fun. He bounded happily, his fluffy tail wagging happily and tongue lolling out.
“You having a mushy moment?” Ace asked, kissing Colton’s cheek.
“We’re so fortunate.”
Ace turned Colton around, his smile soft as he wrapped his arms around Colton’s waist and held him close. “Yeah, we are. You know, I was thinking. Maybe we should go with the decor people.”
“I thought you wanted it to be more personal.”
“I want it to be perfect. For you. And if that means professional decorators, then we’ll do it.”
Colton shook his head. “We don’t need professional decorators. Or snow. Or sleigh rides.” He sighed. “This isn’t a Hallmark movie.”
Ace opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, an odd expression coming onto his face. “What if it could be?”
Colton was perplexed. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”
“When you were little, all you wanted was the kind of Christmas you saw in your favorite holiday movies. The perfect Christmas.”
“There’s no such thing as a perfect Christmas, love, but this is pretty close, don’t you think?” Colton kissed him, laughing against Ace’s lips when everyone cheered and catcalled. He shook his head at their ridiculousness.
Lucky called Ace over, and Colton walked to the kitchen to snag himself a Christmas cookie. Red and Laz sang along to “Last Christmas” by Wham! making Colton chuckle. He scanned the expertly iced cookies, his eyes landing on a deer cookie with a sleigh cookie behind it.
What if…?
Colton picked up the sleigh cookie, and before he could talk himself out of it, he sent a quick text to Joshua, his executive assistant. His phone rang a few minutes later.
“Joshua,” Colton replied. “One second.” He excused himself, hurried upstairs to his and Ace’s bedroom, and shut the door. “Sorry. I’m back. What do you think? Is it possible?”
“It is, but before I make any arrangements, I need to let you know that I spoke to Clara, the hospitality manager, and she informed me that due to the storm that blew through there a couple of weeks ago, their town hall is closed.”
“Oh, is that all? That’s fine. Go ahead and make all the arrangements.” They were good as long as the town’s Ice Castle was open. It was where all of the festivities took place anyway.
“You should have a confirmation email within the next few minutes.”
“Wonderful. Thank you, Joshua.” Colton hung up and made a few more calls. By the time everything was set up, he was excited and nervous. What if no one else was on board? Shaking his head, he headed back downstairs. He tugged on Ace’s sleeve, pulling him to one side.
“I have an announcement to make. Could you…?”
“Of course, baby.” Ace turned and called out across the room. “Everyone shut your pie holes!”
Everyone went silent.
Colton sighed. “Not what I had in mind, love, but thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to let you all know how thankful I am to have you all in my life. You’ve been more of a family to me than my own blood, but you already knew that. I love you all so much.”
“We love you too, Colt,” Fitz called out.
The room filled with awwws, and Colton held back a laugh. No need to be nervous. This is your family.
“Okay, so I’ve been thinking about having a white Christmas for the longest time. Years, actually. I vaguely recall staying at a ski lodge with my parents when I was younger. Of course, that was less about family and Christmas and more about who my parents could impress. But something Ace said gave me an idea. I thought having a special holiday season might be nice for our new family. With that in mind, I have a surprise for everyone.” Colton forwarded the email from Joshua to everyone. Eleven phones pinged. “Check your emails.”
“What’s Winterhaven?” Lucky asked.
Colton had been researching Winterhaven for years, hoping to one day get the white Christmas he’d dreamed of, but the time never seemed right. Now, it felt right. “I’ve rented a luxury family cabin for the holidays in the beautiful and picturesque small town of Winterhaven. We’re going to have a white Christmas!”
King frowned, but that was his default expression. “This schedule says from tomorrow until the end of December.” He lifted his blue gaze. “Colton, we can’t take that much time off.”
“We own the company,” Ace said with a shrug. “Of course we can.”
“Ace, it’s almost a month.”
“What are you saying? Do you really think with our stringent hiring process and all the training we put our people through that we don’t have anyone to look after the company while we’re away?”
“It’s all right,” Colton said. “I understand. I should have asked first. I can cancel the reservation.”
Fitz held a hand up. “Um, I want to go to Winterhaven.”
Jack blinked at him. “You do?”
“Babe, did you see the picture of their Ice Castle?”
“Ice Castle?” Jack checked his screen. “What happens to it in the summer?”
“It’s not made of ice, my love. It’s made of light stone that makes it look like it’s made of ice. How magical is that? Think of all the cozy sweaters I can wear!” Fitz leaned in and brushed his lips over Jack’s. “We can drink hot cocoa in front of the fire. Keep each other warm under cozy blankets.”
Jack hummed. He seemed to like that idea.
Leo gasped. “Santa’s there.” He lifted his gaze to King. “I want to go.”
Everyone looked to King, who smiled warmly. “Sweetheart, he’s not—”
“Actually Santa,” Leo said, his smile big. “I know that. He’s the mayor. But he looks like Santa, and according to my online search results, Winterhaven is the perfect small-townChristmas destination. It’s famous for its holiday festivities.”
Joker snorted as he looked down at his phone. “Damn. The mayor does look like Santa. That’s an impressive beard.”
“So beautiful,” Laz said, scrolling through something on his phone. “I could take so many picturesque photos there.” He showed Red his cellphone. “Look at that scenery.”
Red kissed the side of Laz’s head. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart.”
“What do you guys say?” Ace turned to King. “How about it, big guy? Ready for the perfect Christmas?”
King moved his gaze back to Leo, and Colton knew there was no way King would say no to that sweet face and boyish smile. He let out a sigh and smiled. “You’re right. We have a great team. They’ll be okay without us for a few weeks.”
There was cheering, and Fitz squealed. He clapped his hands excitedly, then gasped. “Wait. The reservation says tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow afternoon,” Colton confirmed. “The town doesn’t have its own airport, so we’re taking the jet to the next town over. From there, a helicopter will fly us in.”
“Jack, we have to go! I need to pack! And buy some coats!” Fitz ran over to Colton, threw his arms around him, and squeezed him tight. He kissed Colton’s cheek. “Thank you so much, Colton! This is going to be amazing!”
Colton was thrilled at how happy everyone was. Even the dogs were excited. They might not know what was happening, but they knew something was going on. Most of the Kings, Joker, and Jack still seemed a little uncertain about being away for so long, but Colton hoped that once they arrived at Winterhaven, they’d enjoy all the sugary holiday goodness. Everyone thanked him and headed off to pack.
Ace took Colton’s hand in his and turned him. “Baby, you are amazing. I know you’re nervous, but don’t be. Everyone is going to have a great time. Did you see how excited they were?”
“Do you think they’re going to have fun? I know this really isn’t their thing.” Colton didn’t need to say who. His husband was well aware of who he referred to. As the owners of Four Kings Security, all the guys struggled with time off. They were always busy, often working. It was just who they were. Thankfully, their significant others were able to get them to relax.
“This break will do them good. Not just them but the rest of the guys. Did you see Leo’s face light up when he saw that the mayor looked like Santa? I can’t with him. He’s too freaking adorable.” Ace pulled Colton close and kissed him. “Trust me, sweetheart. This is going to be the perfect Christmas. I know it.”
Colton wrapped his arms around his husband and returned the kiss, letting himself get lost in Ace’s love and strength. Ace was right. Once they arrived and everyone saw the beauty of Winterhaven, they’d loosen up and get into the holiday spirit.
Winterhaven spent months preparing for the Christmas season, knowing that hundreds of people would flock to their charming town every year to experience the perfect Christmas. The town had been featured multiple times in magazines and had thousands of glowing reviews, which was impressive, especially since the worst reviews people could come up with were things like “it was too cold” or “the snow wasn’t white enough.”
The entire town would be painstakingly decorated, and the Ice Castle would host all of the Christmas events, from a hot chocolate contest to ornament decorating and, of course, meeting Santa and his reindeer. There was so much to look forward to. Colton couldn’t wait to go for a romantic sleigh ride with his sweetheart. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became.
Maybe he’d get his perfect Christmas after all.
Hank Edwards has been writing gay romantic fiction for more than twenty years. He has published over thirty novels and dozens of short stories. His writing crosses many sub-genres, including romantic comedy, contemporary, paranormal, suspense, mystery, and wacky comedy.
He has written a number of series such as the funny and spooky Critter Catchers, Old West historical horror Venom Valley Series, suspenseful Up to Trouble series, and the very erotic and very funny Fluffers, Inc., He is also part of the shared universe Williamsville Inn series of contemporary gay romance books that feature stories by Brigham Vaughn as well. He's written a YA urban fantasy gay romance series called The Town of Superstition, which is published under the pen name R. G. Thomas.
No matter what genre he writes, Hank likes to keep things steamy, kind of sassy, and heartfelt. He was born and still lives in a northwest suburb of the Motor City, Detroit, Michigan.
Charles Payseur is an avid reader, writer, and reviewer of speculative fiction. His works have appeared in The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy, Lightspeed Magazine, and Beneath Ceaseless Skies, among others, and many are included in his debut collection, The Burning Day and Other Strange Stories (Lethe Press 2021). He is the series editor of We’re Here: The Best Queer Speculative Fiction (Neon Hemlock Press) and a multiple-time Hugo and Ignyte Award finalist for his work at Quick Sip Reviews. When not drunkenly discussing Goosebumps, X-Men comic books, and his cats on his Patreon (/quicksipreviews) and Twitter (@ClowderofTwo), he can probably found raising a beer with his husband, Matt, in their home in Eau Claire, Wisconsin.
Josh LanyonBestselling author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance, JOSH LANYON has been called "the Agatha Christie of gay mystery."
Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
Josh is married and they live in Southern California.Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first male/male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place on the list).
The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male Male Couple in the 2nd Annual contest held by the Goodreads M/M Group (which has over 22,000 members). Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist for Gay Mystery, and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads Favorite M/M Author Lifetime Achievement award.
Author and artist Jordan Castillo Price is the owner of JCP Books LLC. Her paranormal thrillers are colored by her time in the midwest, from inner city Chicago, to small town Wisconsin, to liberal Madison.
Jordan is best known as the author of the PsyCop series, an unfolding tale of paranormal mystery and suspense starring Victor Bayne, a gay medium who's plagued by ghostly visitations. Also check out her new series, Mnevermind, where memories are made...one client at a time.
With her education in fine arts and practical experience as a graphic designer, Jordan set out to create high quality ebooks with lavish cover art, quality editing and gripping content. The result is JCP Books, offering stories you'll want to read again and again.
Charlie Cochet is the international bestselling author of the THIRDS series. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, Charlie enjoys the best of both worlds, from her daily Cuban latte to her passion for classic rock.
Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found devouring a book, releasing her creativity through art, or binge watching a new TV series. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.
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Hank Edwards
Charles Payseur
EMAIL: cypayseur@gmail.comJosh Laynon
EMAIL: josh.lanyon@sbcglobal.net
Jordan Castillo Price
Charlie Cochet
EMAIL: charlie@charliecochet.com
The Cupid Crawl by Hank Edwards
B&N / KOBO / SMASHWORDS
How the Supervillain Stole Christmas by Charles Payseur
B&N / KOBO / GOOGLE PLAY
Mummy Dearest by Josh Laynon
KOBO / CHIRP / GOOGLE PLAY
Brownie Points by Jordan Castillo Price
