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After 30+ years as my mother's 24/7 caregiver she passed away this past January and since then I have become my dad's primary caregiver so November being National Family Caregivers Month has always been important to me. Not because I want personal recognition for what I do but to help show people that caregiving is more than just medical assistance, it can also be emotional, physical, psychological, that it effects every aspects of a person's life, it can be temporary, short term, long term, chronic,. I would have given anything to make it so my mother had not needed the assistance and now my dad but that isn't possible so I do this so he can have the best quality of life and still live in his own home. So I realized that there are stories out there that have caregivers and whether it's a big or small part of the plot doesn't matter, they help show people what caregivers provide all within very entertaining romances and reading experiences.
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Us Again by Nell Iris
Summary:When Alex gets a call in the middle of the night telling him his ex-boyfriend is in the hospital, he only hesitates for a second before rushing to Sammy’s side. But the Sammy in the hospital bed is fragile and not the same man who told Alex to leave seven months ago.
Alex wants to help Sammy get better and is desperate to find out what went wrong between them. Maybe he’ll even get a second chance with the man he hasn’t been able to get over.
But will Sammy let Alex back into his life?
Talk about an emotional dramatic yet non-angsty sweet little gem. Those late night phone calls are never good news but maybe this one will lead to something positive for Alex and Sammy. Us Again is beautifully done with interesting characters that tug at your heart instantly. Could it have been even better with more backstory and follow to the future? Sure. Sometimes the pull-on-the-heartstrings isn't about the whole journey, about the getting there, about the where they end up but about the moment that it all comes together. Us Again is one of those stories that watches the characters discover "the moment", the point of no return, the do or die, the give it their all or go home. I know these are all cliches but they are cliches for a reason and Us Again may be the moment Alex and Sammy need to get it right but that doesn't make the story cliche. Oh no, this story will make you smile from ear to ear and entertain with every dimple that smile makes.
RATING:
RATING:
Cowboys and Cupcakes by Jodi Payne & BA Tortuga
Summary:Merry Everything #3
Baker Jax Martinez works odd hours making cupcakes and cookies in his New York apartment. It’s a skill he learned from his grandparents, who raised him in a bakery of their own, and he’s never wanted to do anything else. His strange schedule makes it hard to have friends and a social life, but he’s an introvert so the occasional Sunday dinner with his best friend January is enough for him.
Sawyer McMahon joined the army to leave behind everyone and everything he knew after losing the cowboy he loved in a horrific rodeo accident. After nearly losing his own life as a soldier overseas, he’s not sure what’s next for him. His old rodeo buddy Hawk Destry, who has had to deal with a disability of his own, offers Saw a place to stay for a while in New York and he takes it, hoping Hawk can help him get his recovery on track.
It’s an instant friendship when Jax finds an excuse to rescue Saw from an overwhelming moment, and they discover quickly that they want to be more. Their issues and quirks seem to fit together in a strange and complicated way, but neither of them has thought much beyond the present moment. Could they actually have a future together? Or are they destined to be just friends?
Us Again by Nell Iris
Except for the dim light of a wall-mounted lamp next to the only occupied bed, the room is dark. Sammy is a shapeless silhouette from here and I take a step closer. Another. And another until I’m right by his side.
My knees buckle when I finally see him. His golden hair is plastered to his face, his cheeks hollow, his full lips dry and cracked. Long lashes fan out over black shadows under the eyes. His hand rests on his pillow and is so thin and bony, tears well up in my eyes.
A steadily beeping monitor surveils his vital signs. An IV bag hangs on a metal pole, and the line snakes its way down into his hand.
My hand flies to my mouth and my shoulders shake. To avoid ending up in a sobbing pile on the floor, I sink down in the chair next to his bed.
Sammy was always slender. Like a willow with long limbs, narrow hips, and a concave stomach. But now ... he looks emaciated. Hardly there. Easily breakable and so fucking small I wouldn’t be surprised if a stiff breeze could snap him in two.
I reach out but hesitate to touch him. Instead, I lay my hand next to his on the pillow. My olive complexion seems dirty next to his pallor.
“Oh, Sammy.” I don’t even try to wipe the moisture from my face; I just let the tears flow. I want to crawl into bed with him, scoop him up in my arms, and use my big body to shield him from the world. But all I do is move my hand closer, until my fingertips ghost against his pinkie. A jolt of electricity races through my body and a sigh slips out.
“Now will you tell me what happened?” I hiss to David who’s sat down on a chair on the other side of Sammy’s bed sometime during the last minute.
“His boss called me this evening. Apparently, he fainted.”
I gasp and can’t keep my hands off him any longer. Carefully, I lay my palm on top of his hand and something snaps into place in my chest when I finally touch him. He’s cold. I’d give him all my warmth if he would just open his eyes and smile at me and call me Care Bear again.
“Doesn’t he fucking eat?” I grind out between clenched teeth.
“He said he does. He said he was fine.”
“Clearly, he lied.”
“Clearly.”
“What’s all this?” I sweep my hand at the IV pole.
“He was severely dehydrated so they’re giving him fluids.” He rattles on about vital signs and nutrition and how Sammy will need to see a therapist and a dietitian to straighten out his eating and I only listen with one ear. Even though I asked, I can’t absorb all that information.
“Don’t you fucking check on your own brother?” I interrupt. I’ve always had a foul mouth, and frazzled nerves make it worse, but I don’t give a shit if David is offended.
“I should have. I knew he was ... sad. I talked to him on the phone almost every day and he said he was fine.” David’s voice trembles, saturated with guilt and remorse, but it just makes me angrier.
“Are you telling me you haven’t taken the time to visit him for seven fucking months?”
“No! That’s not true!”
“It seems that way to me.”
“Who are you to talk? You left him!”
His words sting. He might as well have thrown acid on my face. I tighten my muscles, so I won’t jerk under his accusations. “He told me to leave. He said he never wanted to see me again. I did not leave willingly.” I shoot him an angry glare but quickly look away. I want to take out my fear and worry on him. Plant my fist in his face and roar out the pain that took up residence in my chest when I laid eyes on Sammy a few minutes ago.
Dear, sweet Sammy.
“I don’t even know what happened. I thought he loved me,” I whisper. My head is heavy, and I let it sink down until it rests on his bed.
My knees buckle when I finally see him. His golden hair is plastered to his face, his cheeks hollow, his full lips dry and cracked. Long lashes fan out over black shadows under the eyes. His hand rests on his pillow and is so thin and bony, tears well up in my eyes.
A steadily beeping monitor surveils his vital signs. An IV bag hangs on a metal pole, and the line snakes its way down into his hand.
My hand flies to my mouth and my shoulders shake. To avoid ending up in a sobbing pile on the floor, I sink down in the chair next to his bed.
Sammy was always slender. Like a willow with long limbs, narrow hips, and a concave stomach. But now ... he looks emaciated. Hardly there. Easily breakable and so fucking small I wouldn’t be surprised if a stiff breeze could snap him in two.
I reach out but hesitate to touch him. Instead, I lay my hand next to his on the pillow. My olive complexion seems dirty next to his pallor.
“Oh, Sammy.” I don’t even try to wipe the moisture from my face; I just let the tears flow. I want to crawl into bed with him, scoop him up in my arms, and use my big body to shield him from the world. But all I do is move my hand closer, until my fingertips ghost against his pinkie. A jolt of electricity races through my body and a sigh slips out.
“Now will you tell me what happened?” I hiss to David who’s sat down on a chair on the other side of Sammy’s bed sometime during the last minute.
“His boss called me this evening. Apparently, he fainted.”
I gasp and can’t keep my hands off him any longer. Carefully, I lay my palm on top of his hand and something snaps into place in my chest when I finally touch him. He’s cold. I’d give him all my warmth if he would just open his eyes and smile at me and call me Care Bear again.
“He said he does. He said he was fine.”
“Clearly, he lied.”
“Clearly.”
“What’s all this?” I sweep my hand at the IV pole.
“He was severely dehydrated so they’re giving him fluids.” He rattles on about vital signs and nutrition and how Sammy will need to see a therapist and a dietitian to straighten out his eating and I only listen with one ear. Even though I asked, I can’t absorb all that information.
“Don’t you fucking check on your own brother?” I interrupt. I’ve always had a foul mouth, and frazzled nerves make it worse, but I don’t give a shit if David is offended.
“I should have. I knew he was ... sad. I talked to him on the phone almost every day and he said he was fine.” David’s voice trembles, saturated with guilt and remorse, but it just makes me angrier.
“Are you telling me you haven’t taken the time to visit him for seven fucking months?”
“No! That’s not true!”
“It seems that way to me.”
“Who are you to talk? You left him!”
His words sting. He might as well have thrown acid on my face. I tighten my muscles, so I won’t jerk under his accusations. “He told me to leave. He said he never wanted to see me again. I did not leave willingly.” I shoot him an angry glare but quickly look away. I want to take out my fear and worry on him. Plant my fist in his face and roar out the pain that took up residence in my chest when I laid eyes on Sammy a few minutes ago.
Dear, sweet Sammy.
“I don’t even know what happened. I thought he loved me,” I whisper. My head is heavy, and I let it sink down until it rests on his bed.
Cowboys and Cupcakes by Jodi Payne & BA Tortuga
1
Jax Martinez sat on the counter in his tiny kitchen and glared at Casper. They were supposed to be making profiteroles for Sunday, but the dough hadn’t really gotten doughy, and the eggs had made the mixture soppy instead of something he could squeeze through his pastry bag. What had happened? He didn’t get it. They’d made them a million times.
Like, a million-million times.
Maybe he put in too much butter? Maybe he didn’t cook it on the stove long enough. Maybe it was bad luck.
He had a lot of bad luck.
It was Saturday, and on Saturdays, he had pizza and watched a movie on TV. That had been his plan anyway, until the profiteroles didn’t work out.
“What the hell, Casper?” He glared harder, wishing his food processor could actually understand how annoyed he was. It couldn’t, of course, because it was an object and objects didn’t think at all, but they should know when they weren’t behaving the way he wanted them to.
“You don’t love me anymore,” he said and hopped down off the counter. He didn’t expect a response. Food processors were kind of the strong silent types. “You can just sit there by yourself for a while and think about what you’ve done.”
So there.
He left the kitchen—which took him about three steps—and picked up his cell phone to order delivery. He’d have his pizza and then he’d clean up and try again later. He’d made lots of sweets at midnight, or at four in the morning. He liked baking in the middle of the night.
Just as he was dialing, a doorbell sound rang, making him grin. That was his buddy Jan’s ringtone. January Bell. Dumb as hell but the pun made him giggle every time. He tapped on Jan’s text.
January:Hawk is at the airport picking someone up. Want to come for dinner about six?Dinner? Surely Jan knew he was a very busy man and couldn’t just drop everything and go out for dinner.I could eat.
He went to find his shoes. He just needed to clean up the kitchen.
Wait.
He stopped short outside his bedroom door. Hawk was at the airport? He looked at the text again, and then dialed Jan.
Jan was laughing as he answered. “Did you forget how to get here?”
“How is Hawk picking somebody up at the airport?” Hawk Destry, Jan’s husband, was a former bull riding champion and the bravest guy Jax had ever met. Hot too. Jan was a lucky bastard. But Hawk didn’t see so well. As in the guy was legally blind.
“Ever heard of a taxi? It’s this yellow thing that—”
“Ha. Ha, ha.” Jax snorted. “By himself?”
“Sure. He has Buck with him.”
“You let him go alone.” Hawk’s service dog was smart as hell, but January wasn’t fooling him.
“He’s a grown man, Jax. I didn’t let him do anything. He insisted.” Jan sounded a little defensive now.
“Ah.” Uh-huh. Now he got it.
“What?”
“How worried are you?”
Jan laughed. “Well, it’s his first time going to the airport alone. But I’m not really worried, I’m… I’m kind of—okay, I’m fucking worried.”
“I’ll be right over.”
Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, short over long, and quirky characters over alpha males. She published her first book in 2017.
Nell is an author with a day job that steals too much time from her writing, her reading, her gardening, and her crocheting. She’s an introverted tea drinker who loves her family, her books, and her home in the Swedish countryside.
Jodi PayneJODI spent too many years in New York and San Francisco stage managing classical plays, edgy fringe work, and the occasional musical. She, therefore, is overdramatic, takes herself way too seriously, and has been known to randomly break out in song. Her men are imperfect but genuine, stubborn but likable, often kinky, and frequently their own worst enemies. They are characters you can’t help but fall in love with while they stumble along the path to their happily ever after.
For those looking to get on her good side, Jodi’s addictions include nonfat lattes, Malbec, and tequila any way you pour it. She’s also obsessed with Shakespeare and Broadway musicals. She can be found wearing sock monkey gloves while typing when it’s cold, and on the beach enjoying the sun and the ocean when it’s hot. When she’s not writing and/or vacuuming sand out of her laptop, Jodi mentors queer youth and will drop everything for live music. Jodi lives near New York City with her beautiful wife, and together they are mothers of dragons (cleverly disguised as children) and slaves to an enormous polydactyl cat.
For those looking to get on her good side, Jodi’s addictions include nonfat lattes, Malbec, and tequila any way you pour it. She’s also obsessed with Shakespeare and Broadway musicals. She can be found wearing sock monkey gloves while typing when it’s cold, and on the beach enjoying the sun and the ocean when it’s hot. When she’s not writing and/or vacuuming sand out of her laptop, Jodi mentors queer youth and will drop everything for live music. Jodi lives near New York City with her beautiful wife, and together they are mothers of dragons (cleverly disguised as children) and slaves to an enormous polydactyl cat.
Texan to the bone and an unrepentant Daddy's Girl, BA Tortuga spends her days with her basset hounds, getting tattooed, baking, and eating Mexican food. When she's not doing that, she's writing. She spends her days off watching rodeo, knitting, and surfing Pinterest in the name of research. BA's personal saviors include her wife, Julia Talbot and coffee. Lots of coffee. Really good coffee.
Having written everything from fist-fighting rednecks to hard-core cowboys to werewolves, BA does her damnedest to tell the stories of her heart, which was raised in Northeast Texas, but has heard the call of the high desert and lives in the Sandias. With books ranging from hard-hitting romance, to fiery menages, to the most traditional of love stories, BA refuses to be pigeon-holed by anyone but the voices in her head, and she's determined to give her cowboys their happily ever afters.
Nell Iris
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Us Again by Nell Iris
Cowboys and Cupcakes by Jodi Payne & BA Tortuga
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