Summary:
Reindeer Mate for Christmas
When Christmas magic meets destiny, love grows evergreen.
Human Reed Keller is one bad season away from losing his family's Christmas tree farm when a stranger arrives with a lifeline.
Roscoe Curran’s reindeer shifter pack needs to lease land, providing money that will save Reed's farm. When a reindeer Christmas carol triggers Roscoe into a partial shift, he reveals he’s not human. But this reindeer shifter is keeping more secrets about their fated mate bond, Christmas magic, and why his pack needs to be settled before December 24th.
Some Christmas miracles come with antlers, others arrive with a man who talks to his prized trees, while a few take a ride across the night sky on Santa’s sleigh.
Jingle Bell Mate is a steamy MM mpreg Christmas romance. If you love stories featuring an alpha reindeer shifter who grows antlers at awkward moments, a human omega whose best friends are trees, a secret the land has been keeping for over a generation, a pack that becomes found family, a sighting of Santa, and an adorable baby, download this book now.
Jingle Bell Mate is part of the multi-author, gay romance, mpreg shifter A Reindeer Mate For Christmas series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but why stop at one when you can read them all!
Summary:
For Sam, every moment counts. Life is precious and finite. He’s grateful for every second and hasn’t taken anything for granted for the past five years. With his two best friends, lovable cat, and his bucket list, he’s determined to value every experience and all the people around him. Even the grumpy new town resident who Sam can’t leave alone, no matter how many times the handsome man tells him to.
Lukas is a vampire exhausted with humanity, bored with everything, and wishing the council would put him out of his misery. Instead, they gave him orders that had him moving to a small town with a lot of nosy people. His love of ice cream is the only reason he begrudgingly deals with humans—one of whom in particular he can’t seem to shake.
Together, Sam and Lukas awaken parts of themselves they never knew existed. With each passing day, Lukas unknowingly helps Sam cross something off his bucket list. But just when life seems perfect, it comes crashing down.
For the first time, Lukas wants forever so he can spend it with Sam, only to hit roadblocks at every turn. Sam has come to terms with his fate. Born on the edge of goodbye, the only thing Sam isn’t prepared for is falling in love and the possibility of leaving it all behind.
The Edge of Goodbye is a standalone M/M paranormal romance with a strong HEA and no cliffhanger
I'm going to start off by saying, Davidson King has done it again. Such an emotional and powerful journey. Next, I'm going to get a little personal here, The Edge of Goodbye is amazing but I'll be honest, I should not have read this right now. On January 13th, it'll be a year since my mother passed away and reading hasn't held the same pull for me this year as it usually does but that isn't why I should have waited. The reasons behind Sam's journey(I won't spoil it for anyone so I won't mention specifics) may be different than my mother's but I could see so many elements that resonated in our daily lives. There came a point where I just broke down completely and that was when I knew I should have set this aside before beginning. I won't say it broke me but it probably was as close as anything has in 2025 AND YET I couldn't stop. I'm not a DNF reader, I've been known to set a book aside for multiple reasons but I always come back and finish it but I just couldn't do that with Goodbye. The heartache was worth it and frankly, that probably speaks louder volumes about how amazing this story is than anything I can come up with. I have no triggers when it comes to reading and watching but if I did, this probably would have been one of them, so be sure you're prepared for the heart hurting before the heartwarming. Truth is, the tears Sam's journey brought to the surface probably helped more than they seemed at the time and for that, I say, Thank You, Davidson King, you didn't heal my heart but you helped fill a notch.
Okay, now to the story.
As I said above, I won't spoil anything but I'll mention a little. Sam might rub a few the wrong way, he can be a bit overwhelming and borderline pushy but I get why he's that way. As an introvert, I don't think I could be that way in his situation but I applaud his fight and determination to enjoy every second of life. On the other side, Lukas comes across as grumpy and borderline(maybe not so borderline at first) rude but I can also understand why he is that way too. Being able to make the reader see both sides of the personality ruler is just another example of King's storytelling and world building talent.
As a paranormal lover, I've read many ways authors have created their own vampire lore. I loved how King uses the Hollywood folklore we all associate with vampires to build her own. I can honestly say, Lukas' love of ice cream is one I can see myself partaking in if I was a vampire too. Again, I won't spoil the lore she created so you'll have to read it for yourself to see if you would agree with Lukas or not.
This might have the smallest supporting cast of any of King's works but each played a part, none were a page filler, and they all helped paint a picture that was believable(which in a paranormal genre sounds an odd thing to say but no less true).
Don't let my initial paragraph scare you, The Edge of Goodbye, is one not to be missed. I probably should have waited to read it for personal reasons that came close to breaking me but at the same time, I couldn't stop and when I swiped the last page, I found a crack in my heart that wasn't as big as it was when I started. Whether you choose to be a part of Sam and Lukas' journey now or later, just know you don't want to miss it. It may seem heavy at times but it's entertaining from beginning to end and that's all I ever ask for.
One last side note: I have added this to my Xmas shelf even though the holiday is a tiny blip in wordage but as I am in the "Die Hard is a Christmas Movie" camp, I view my readings the same, if the holiday is mentioned than its holiday story.
Summary:
Dawson
I have the most ridiculous crush on Briar, a customer who frequents my café. We never run out of things to talk about, and I find myself looking forward to his visits.
Just when I’m about to ask him on a date, he shows up at Sip and Savor with none other than my twin, who beat me to the punch. Definitely not how I hoped things would go.
Except my brother isn’t the settling-down type, so three months into dating Briar, he chooses the worst time to dump him—right before Christmas and straight after Briar asks Nathan to accompany him home for the holidays.
As I try to console Briar, he surprises me by cooking up a plot straight out of the movies, where I go home to Maine with him, pretending to be his boyfriend.
It’s supposed to be a friendly favor, I get a trip to the perfect Christmas town, and Briar can save face with his family and childhood ex. Only just like back in Boston, we have fun together, get each other, and I swear the spark I always felt between us grows.
But how does a guy tell his twin’s ex that he’s had feelings for him all along? And can what starts out as a holiday exchange turn into the perfect happily ever after?
Summary:
Wilde Love
An epilogue to the Wilde Love series, four Wilde Love Christmas Short Stories!
Liam is set to finally meet Alex’s mother, and Alex needs a way to help them bond. Fortunately, Liam drops the answer in his lap.
Keegan spends an evening taking care of Brigit’s son, Eric, and it gets him thinking about whether something is missing in his life.
Jake has dragged Brian to the frozen wastelands of Iowa for the holidays, and now it’s his responsibility to keep his boyfriend warm.
Owen helps make a holiday dinner at the Brendan Quinn shelter for LGBTQIA+ Teens, and gets an unexpected gift from the past.
Christmas Falls Season One #9
Spend Christmas in a small town? Bah, humbug.
Joel McArthur thought he knew everyone in the small town of Christmas Falls. He’s been running Ginger’s Breads bakery for more than a decade, after all.
But who is the mysterious runner who’s been passing by his shop every morning?
Hayden Bradley’s post-college plans fell through, landing him in this stupid small town he can’t get out of fast enough.
He hates Christmas and he’s tired of the endless holiday cheer.
But as Hayden finds himself spending more and more time at Joel’s bakery, he’s forced to admit that he’s developed a taste for the ginger-molasses cookies and the handsome ginger-haired baker who makes them.
Christmas Falls is a multi-author M/M romance series set in a small town that thrives on enough holiday charm to rival any Hallmark movie.
Content Warning: Discussion of a past death of a parent/missing them at the holidays.
Jingle Bell Mate by Colbie Dunbar
ONE
REED
I'd been talking to Douglas for about twenty minutes when I chuckled and slapped my brow. I was probably losing my mind but hey, if this was me cracking up, it wasn’t a bad place to be.
“The thing is,” I adjusted the string of Christmas lights that had tangled around Doug's lower branches overnight. How the heck did that happen? Perhaps Santa’s elves were playing tricks late at night when I was asleep.
“Anyway, I know you want to make some family happy for Christmas. But Mrs. Ledger already picked out that Blue Spruce over in Section C, and Doug, don’t be disappointed. You’ll find someone to love you.”
Doug rustled his needles which I interpreted as an agreement. The morning breeze helped, but I was convinced he had opinions about these things. Maybe it was his branches leaning toward me or how his needles were more radiant after our morning chats. Aunt Mollie used to insist the trees responded to kindness, and after spending three years with them, I agreed.
I admired my handiwork with the lights. Every year, I decorated as many of the trees as I could so the farm, Right as Rain(deer), would appear more festive. Aunt Mollie had started the tradition and though she’d been gone for three years, I was continuing it. The Christmas tree lot was more alive with lights scattered throughout the rows of evergreens, and I wanted first-time visitors surrounded by a winter wonderland.
Right as Rain(deer) was kinda an odd name for a Christmas tree farm—Aunt Mollie had people tell her over the years she should change it— but my aunt maintained the soil on this land was special. She loved to tell the story of seeing reindeer wandering through the lot on her first Christmas Eve here. I was pretty sure that was a tall tale but I had loved hearing it every December and had adored her quirky personality.
The winter air carried the sharp scent of pine and the earthier smell of decomposing leaves from the oak trees that bordered the property. I moved closer to check Doug's watering system, making sure he was getting enough moisture to keep his needles fresh and vibrant.
“You're going to make someone's Christmas magical.”
The phone buzzed in my pocket. Probably another bill I couldn't pay. Perhaps it was my friend, Gemma, telling me how I should sell the place and get a real job. Her latest voicemail had included a suggestion that I could work at her husband's accounting firm. Ugh!
Being cooped up in a tiny cubicle instead of being outdoors with the trees would be nightmarish. I refused to throw away the time and effort it’s taken to keep this tree farm running.
I ignored the phone and moved onto the paths between the Fraser Firs. Each section of the farm had its own personality. The Noble Firs were tall and dignified. The Frasers clustered together as if they were gossiping while the Douglas Firs sprawled out, holding their heads high because they were haughty and proud of themselves.
Right as Rain(deer) had been in my family for more than thirty years. Aunt Mollie had bought the land on a whim after inheriting money from a relative. She planted her first seedlings with no idea what she was doing and turned the place into a beloved Christmas tree farm. She talked to the trees as if they were her children, commiserating with them on bad days and celebrating their growth spurts.
Three years after inheriting this unprofitable farm, I understood. The trees did listen and they responded to kindness. But being nice to my trees didn't pay the mortgage.
The numbers were getting worse every month. The seasonal income from Christmas tree sales barely covered the property taxes, let alone the equipment and maintenance along with the endless repairs to the old farmhouse. I'd been supplementing my income with jobs in town, ones I could do outside because I’d stifle in a cubicle, similar to a tree left without water. But the money wasn't enough and the bank had been sending threatening letters.
Aunt Mollie had brought in extra income from renting out the cabins over the hill. But I’d stopped that practice because the buildings needed extensive repairs.
I made my way over to the Noble Fir section, where Noelle was showing off her perfect symmetry.
“Morning, Noelle. You're looking majestic today.”
Her branches swayed gently in response. She was going to be somebody's centerpiece this year if I could keep the farm running long enough to find the right family.
The rattle of loose stones on the driveway interrupted my morning routine. A car door slammed followed by footsteps. My stomach dropped. Please don't be the bank. Please don't be someone from the county.
I wove between the Fraser Firs and tried not to trip over the extension cord powering the office's ancient heater. The little wooden building that served as an office looked kinda bleak in the morning light with its peeling paint and dirty windows. But Aunt Mollie's hand-painted sign above the door, “Welcome to Right as Rain(deer)” gave me the courage to meet my guest.
The tall man with dark hair standing beside a black sedan had a jawline that needed to be stroked and peppered with kisses, and I stared at him for longer than I should have. I was intimidated by the confidence that radiated from him, which was helped by his caramel-colored coat that I wanted to run my hands over. I hunched my shoulders, protecting myself from whatever he was going to say.
He was studying the farm and he did a 360, taking in the decorated trees, the old office building with holly growing near the door, and my home enclosed with a fence and an old gate that hung on one hinge.
I tensed, thinking he disapproved but I’d like to see him try to run this place and make a huge profit, especially when most of my trees were balled and burlapped (B&B) so families could enjoy them inside for Christmas and plant them in the garden afterward. They were more expensive than cut trees but they were environmentally friendly. But I did have smaller ones in pots for apartments that were cheaper.
When the guy turned his gaze on me, it was as though I’d been zapped with a stun gun. Yikes. If his glance did that, I wondered what his… Whoa. Nope I wasn’t going there.
“Can I help you?” I jogged the last few steps, trying not to appear as frazzled as I felt while pine needles clung to my flannel shirt. “If you're looking for a tree, you're welcome to browse.”
“Reed Keller?” That voice suggested he knew who I was and I braced myself for whatever bad news he was here to deliver.
“That's me.” I wiped my hands on my jeans, aware of the contrast between us. He was wearing a smart coat and I’d been wrestling with Christmas trees. At least I smelled good from pine sap.
“Are you from the county? Because I filed all the paperwork, and if there's an issue with the lighting display—”
“I’m not.”
Okay, so he had to be from the bank though no banker from town ever looked like this guy. They wore suits, and ties that were askew because they were fed up having to travel outside town or they’d taken two wrong turns before getting here.
He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder. I glared at it, wondering how its contents would change my life, and willing him not to open it.
“My name is Roscoe Curran. I represent a group that's interested in this property.”
Gods not another one. He may as well have tossed ice water over me. I shivered and stamped my feet before tucking my gloved hands under my armpits.
“You're here about buying the farm.”
Hearing why he’d come wasn’t a shock because I’d been getting calls, letters, and visits for months from developers and investors who'd heard that the farm was struggling. They were all the same with their name brand sunglasses and confidence they’d secure the deal and turn the land into a housing development or anything other than a Christmas tree farm.
“Not exactly.”
Roscoe glanced at his feet as he shuffled them. Was he embarrassed at my distress because me blinking away tears was broadcasting how upset I was?
“I’d like to discuss a potential arrangement regarding this property, if you have time. My ummm clients are looking for suitable land, and this farm has qualities that might work for everyone."
I studied the rows of trees. Doug’s Christmas lights were still tangled but Noelle was showing off her branches. My gaze trailed over the dozens of other evergreens I'd nurtured. Looking in the other direction brought me to the office where Aunt Mollie's coffee mug still sat on the windowsill. I swiveled to take in the wooden sign she'd made for my eighth birthday that said “Reed's Corner” and marked the spot where she'd let me plant my first seedling.
“Mr. Curran.” I straightened my spine because I was not going to let anyone bully me, not that he had as yet. “I’ll be honest, if your clients want to buy this place and turn it into condos or a shopping center, I'm not interested. This farm means everything to me.” It was my life.
There was something about his eyes, how they surveyed me as if he was looking right through me and I shoved my hands in my coat pockets. He probably thought I’d ask where I could sign as I was desperate for money. I was in debt but I was hanging on by my fingertips.
“I understand your attachment. But what I'm proposing isn't about taking the farm away from you. My clients need land but they're not developers. They're a community group and they would help to preserve what you've built here.”
A gust of wind swept through the farm, stronger than the gentle breeze that had been rustling the branches earlier. All the trees swayed and their needles ‘sang’ in harmony. I couldn’t understand what they were saying but it had to be disapproval, though it was charming, making me want to dance. But no way would my trees welcome this man and his group here.
Roscoe’s face reminded of the expression deer in the headlights. His head snapped to the side and he studied the trees as they waved their branches. There was a faint smile on his face. But the wind died and the trees quietened.
“Would you like coffee?” Shoot no, why had I said that? This man and his jaw needed to leave and find someone else’s land. Not that I wanted anyone else to be taken in by that jaw.
“It's freezing out here, and we could both use some caffeine. Fair warning, though I make terrible coffee.” I was rabbiting on like I was making a new friend.
Roscoe searched my face before he replied. “Coffee would be great.”
He sounded uncertain but if he’d spent hours or days trawling the countryside for land to snatch away from people buried by debt, he probably didn’t get offered coffee.
As I led him toward the office, I caught him glancing at the trees. Did he just nod? No one else did that but me. That was weird. But I talked to them like they were my friends, so I couldn’t judge him. Instead, I was open to hearing more about his community group even though my answer at the end of his spiel would be no, no thanks and another no thank you.
The trees rustled softly as we walked past and I shrugged and mouthed, “What?”
The Edge of Goodbye by Davidson King
Chapter One
Sam
“I’m gonna do it!”
The little boy on the other side of the counter shouted, “No!”
“It’s happening.” I was trying hard to hold in my laughter.
“Please, Sammy, no gummy bears!”
“How can you have a Berenstain Bears crafted cone without bears, Lewis?” I lowered my hand and dumped the gummy bears into the small bowl.
“I love the Berenstain Bears, but gummy bears are gross.” He scowled. Lewis couldn’t have been older than six. He came in every Saturday with his grandpa to Cone Crafters Ice Cream Shop, where I worked. And every week, it was a different order for Lewis.
“Hmm.” I tapped my chin. “What are your feelings on Teddy Grahams?”
His eyes widened, and his voice filled with wonder. “On an ice cream cone?”
I shrugged. “Why not? What, are the ice cream police going to come and arrest me?”
He giggled, and his grandpa ruffled his head. “No.”
With a solid nod, I stuck the cone into the holder and rushed to the storage room, where there was a box of Teddy Grahams. I got four of them and returned. Lewis watched with a huge grin on his face as I strategically placed each bear. They were bigger than gummy bears, and it was difficult but here at Cone Crafters, we specialized in extreme ice cream architecture.
“Bam!” I stepped away, my fingers spread wide. “Look at that.”
Lewis and his grandpa clapped. I grandly handed the cone over to the boy and then regarded his grandpa. “What are you having today?”
“Nothing so extravagant. Perhaps just a cup of rum raisin.”
“You got it.”
Once I had the two of them squared away, I grabbed a rag and washed down the area. It got sticky fast and while I loved creating cool cones, I hated being sticky.
“Sam. Oh my God, Sam!”
I turned just in time to see my best friend Natalie rushing through the back room over to me, her hands flapping, a huge, excited expression on her face. She had her blond hair in her typical ponytail, and her glasses were all askew.
“Nat, what’s up?” I chuckled when she practically barreled into me, stopping half an inch away.
“Lancaster Island.” She pointed toward the storefront window. Cone Crafters was across the street from the water, and through the glass you could see the island with the huge mansion on it. From what I’d heard, it had been vacant for the last twenty or so years. The only way on or off it was by boat, and while I often saw a speedboat come and go, it was likely just a cleaning crew or something.
“What about it?”
She squealed. “Someone is moving in!”
“Really?” Now I was excited. I was so curious about that house. It was never for sale and one day Nat and I had gone digging for info to find it had been in the Lancaster family name for generations. Yet, for as long as I could remember, no one had lived there.
“Yes…a long lost Lancaster, perhaps?” She squeezed my hand, vibrating with happiness.
“That would be so freaking cool.”
A voice cleared, and we both turned. Natalie’s father, the owner of Cone Crafters, was staring at us, one eyebrow raised, obviously trying to hold back a smile.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, Mr. Johnson.”
“You’re being a little loud.”
I scanned the shop. Only Lewis and his grandfather were here, and they weren’t paying us any mind.
“Were we disturbing the air?” I asked with a smirk.
“You’re a smartass, Samuel. If I didn’t love you like my own son, I’d swat you.”
“Sorry, sorry. But did you hear?”
He nodded. “I think the whole town heard the news from my daughter.”
She playfully glared at her father. “You have to admit, it’s cool and mysterious.” She began making ghost noises.
“You both act like you’re still teenagers.” He sighed.
I held up my pointer. “I’m a post teenager.”
His brow crinkled. “You’re twenty-five.”
“Mmhmm…barely out of my teenage years, wouldn’t you say?”
He rolled his eyes and tossed a rag at me. “Get to work, you brat.”
I caught it and as soon as he was out of earshot, I whispered to Natalie, “What do we know?”
“Nothing. You know Kim who works for Chester Real Estate?” I nodded. “I bumped into her when I was picking up dry cleaning, and she told me someone was moving in but it wasn’t sold, that it appears someone from the Lancaster family is likely moving in.”
“She doesn’t know who?”
“Nope.”
“Weird.” I faced the window again, gazing at the island that was far out but not so much that we couldn’t see the monstrosity of a house. “I wonder if Ben knows.” He was our third, and he worked at the library.
Nat snapped her fingers. “Brilliant!”
“I’m off work in an hour; then we can head there and see if he knows what’s going on?”
She tapped the counter and cackled. “Yes!”
An hour and a half later, we were sitting at a table at the library and talking to Ben, who had some information for us.
“Lukas Farren is moving in there. He’s some CEO or owns like a hundred companies. Anyway, he’s the current homeowner.”
Natalie cocked her head. “Not a Lancaster?”
Ben shook his head. “I dug a bit, and it appears the Lancasters married out so much that there is no one who officially has that last name.”
“Do we call it Farren Island now?” I looked from Ben to Nat.
“You can’t just rename a property.” Ben chuckled.
“Do you think he’ll come to shore or skulk in his big mansion away from the common folk?” Natalie asked.
“No idea. I didn’t have time to dig much into Lukas Farren.” He cut the air with his hand. “I’m actually working here.”
“You’re the head librarian. Don’t you have bookworms to do your bidding?” I scoffed.
“Um…that’s not how it works.”
“Okay, but, like, is he moving in with a family? Is he alone?” Natalie was giddy, and I too was eager to know more.
“No idea. I just know this Lukas guy is now the island’s resident. Like I said, I am working, and I have other things to do.”
“Fine, fine. Well, maybe tomorrow we can investigate.” I shrugged. I supposed one day would be okay.
Ben frowned. “Can’t. Emily’s parents are visiting. We’re telling them she’s pregnant.” Upon saying it out loud, his face brightened. Ben was the only one of the three of us who’d gotten married, and now he was going to be a dad. He was good-looking in a nerdy way, which people totally dug. Curly brown hair, bow ties and all that.
“Oh, that’s exciting!” I reached out and squeezed his arm. “No problem. Nat and I will do some detective work and let you know what we find.”
He nodded. “I don’t work Tuesday. Maybe we can meet for lunch and put together everything we have.”
“Plan.” Nat put her hand on the table. I covered hers with mine and we waited for Ben. A beat later, he rolled his eyes and laid his hand on mine. “The power of three,” we all cheered in various tones.
“You’re dorks.” Ben stood, but he smiled. “See you later.”
When he was gone, Nat and I faced each other, and she spoke. “Wanna see if Clark’s taking his fishing boat out tomorrow morning and snag a ride?” That was a brilliant idea.
“Yes!”
We had the beginnings of a plan. It was exciting and mysterious. I had a bucket list, and one thing on there was to solve a mystery. This was totally going to have me scratching that off.
The Holiday Exchange by Riley Hart & Christina Lee
Prologue
Dawson
Thursday afternoons around two are always dead at Sip and Savor. I don’t know what it is, maybe because it’s close to the end of the workweek, after lunch, and no one thinks it’s a good time for a smoothie or acai bowl, but like clockwork, at about one thirty, people start migrating out, and by two, it’s just me and my coworker. Once in a while there’s a straggler or two still around. Today it’s someone in the corner, with earbuds and a laptop with an “I don’t know how to make you care about others” sticker on it.
Nice touch, if you ask me.
The slower pace isn’t what I look forward to every Thursday, though. Nope. It’s because it’s when he comes in.
Briar.
An adorable, slightly self-conscious tech guy who works about a block away. It’s not the only day he comes in, but I can always count on seeing Briar every Thursday afternoon.
After the first three weeks, I started to look forward to it, and now, two months in, it’s the highlight of my week…which is maybe a little or a lot embarrassing. Why do I get so excited chatting with a random guy? Especially one that, at least on paper, isn’t my type.
Where my hair reaches my shoulders, his is always neat and styled, along with his clothes, which consist mostly of khakis and button-downs. On days when he’s meeting important clients, he adds a tie and jacket.
He went to college for computer science, and I had no idea what I wanted until two years ago, when my favorite smoothie place went up for sale and I decided this was the dream I didn’t know I had.
Briar is smart, sophisticated in his own way, and…a little like my twin brother, Nathan, if I’m being honest, which is a strange thought since I have the most ridiculous crush on the guy.
Briar. Not my brother, of course.
The thing is, those similarities are all surface level. Nathan is charismatic and knows it, while Briar is slightly shy, unpretentious, and from what I can tell, humble. He’s subtly funny but doesn’t seem to realize it. And he blushes cutely at the simplest compliment.
I like being around him.
I like talking to him.
I have no idea if he’s interested in me, but I’ve finally decided to ask him out.
Today. Only, he’s not here yet.
The door opens, and I look up just as he walks in. His short brown hair has a bit of a wave today, but it’s still as neat as always, freshly cut, and he’s clean-shaven. And his brown eyes…I swear they look like the finest cognac. My lips automatically pull into a grin, Briar chuckling too… What is he laughing at? I wonder, but then…then he steps aside, and Nathan walks in behind him.
My stomach twists. My twin and I have an…interesting relationship. I love him. I care about him. I’d do anything for him, but I also never feel as small as I do when Nathan is around. That’s not his fault, of course. He can’t help that he’s larger than life and everyone loves him, but it leaves me feeling insignificant more often than not.
“Hey, Dawson!” Briar gives me a beaming smile that makes me weak in the knees. “I didn’t know you have a twin! We work in the same building. We met today and decided to have lunch together.”
Because of course they did. That’s just my luck, isn’t it?
“Yep. That’s my brother,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. Not in being related to Nathan, but him having met Briar.
“Big brother,” Nathan corrects.
I roll my eyes. “By three minutes.”
“Still your big brother.” He grins, then nods toward Briar behind him and fans himself, signaling he finds Briar hot.
Yeah, that makes two of us.
“Do you want your usual?” I ask Briar, ignoring my brother. I feel bad about it, but God, can’t I have this one thing? And I admit I don’t know Briar well, and I was just thinking how they’re similar, but the thought of my brother pursuing him makes my gut sour.
Like I said, I love my brother, but he’s not the relationship type. He cycles through men and women like it’s his job, and while there’s nothing wrong with that as long as they’re both on the same page, I’d rather my crush not be one of them. He might not mean it, but the truth is, Nathan can be a little selfish. He doesn’t always think about others.
“Yes, thank you. What about you, Nathan? My treat,” Briar tells him.
His treat. I know what that means.
Nathan gives me his order, and I watch as the two of them head to a table and sit down together.
Andrea, my employee, starts preparing their chicken pesto wraps while I make Briar’s latte and Nathan’s smoothie.
Nathan must be saying something charming and hilarious because Briar is laughing again.
I don’t get to have my weekly conversation with him, and when they leave, they’re off together, Briar giving me a kind wave and smile as he holds the door open for my brother.
It’s not his fault. He doesn’t know I’m into him. I can’t blame Briar…or Nathan, for that matter.
Later that night, I’m in bed, when I get a call from Nathan. “Hey, how’s it going?” he asks.
“Not bad,” I reply, hoping my voice doesn’t come off sharper than intended. Again, none of this is Briar’s or Nathan’s fault. I don’t have the right to be upset with either of them, and while my brother might not be perfect, he’s still the only brother I have. “Wanna come over and hang tomorrow night?” I ask.
“I can’t. I asked Briar out.”
My heart drops to my stomach, drowning in the acid. “Oh, gottcha.”
“We could hang out on Saturday. Movies at my place?”
“Yeah, sure.” The words stick like peanut butter in my mouth. Of course Nathan would get Briar first, and I have no one to blame but myself. “I’ll bring dinner,” I tell him, trying not to be too frustrated. No matter what, I like spending time with him.
When they officially start to date, I try to convince myself my crush on Briar is over. Unfortunately, crushes don’t really work that way. But I still enjoy our Thursdays and tell myself that being friends with Briar is enough.
A Very Wilde Christmas by Sam Burns
If Liam spent one more minute fixing his hair, Alex was going to have to drag him out of the bathroom and barricade the door. “Dude, it’s only my mom.”
“She’s going to hate me,” Liam told him, sighing and leaning against the doorjamb. “I’m just some city employee who thinks he’s good enough for her son. She’s going to start trying to set you up with rich, educated guys.”
Alex thought about that for a minute, and oh god, Liam was probably right. He shuddered. “I might have to accidentally lose my phone sometime this week. You can call Jake if you need me.”
“You actually lost your phone last week,” Liam pointed out. He turned back to the mirror, trying to get his hair to lay flat one more time and failing completely. “I’ve been calling Jake to talk to you. He called me honey yesterday.”
Alex chuckled at that. That sounded like something that would appeal to Jake’s dry sense of humor. He wondered what he’d done with his phone. Maybe he left it in Los Angeles when they’d come back for the holiday.
Joining Liam in the bathroom doorway, he captured his boyfriend’s warm, calloused hands in his own. “We’ve been together for more than two years, Liam. Do you think some random rich dude my mother approves of is going to make me run out on you?”
Liam squeezed his hands back. “Not really. But I don’t want you to be in that position. And we both know she’s not going to like me.”
He looked like the saddest puppy ever, and it hurt Alex’s heart. He needed to make it better. For a moment, he considered canceling. That wouldn’t work though. It would annoy his mom, and even worse, it would make Liam feel like Alex was embarrassed to take him home.
“She doesn’t like me too much anymore either, you know. Still makes little digs about me being an ‘entertainer.’ Makes it sound like the way people used to say ‘actress’ when they meant call girl.” The way her nose turned up and her lips pursed when she said it had featured in a number of Alex’s lowest moments. Truth be told, he wasn’t completely sure why he had agreed to put them through this. He loved his mother and always would, but this was a stress he and Liam didn’t need.
The doorbell rang, and Liam jerked away so fast that Alex almost tipped backward. He looked at the empty space where his boyfriend had been a moment ago, and was a little surprised not to find a puff of cartoon smoke.
Slowly, he followed down the hall and into the entryway, where Jake was at the door. He and Liam were smiling at each other, something that always made Alex warm inside. It was awesome that his best friend and his boyfriend got along.
Heck, since they’d gotten home from their tour a year earlier, the two of them had seemed almost close.
Jake was bundled up, probably heading out for his family’s usual Iowa Christmas celebration. Alex wished he and Liam were going. They had gone for Christmas in January, and it had been the best holiday of Alex’s life. But this season, they had agreed to go to his mother’s for dinner on Christmas Eve, and Liam’s uncle’s for the holiday itself.
And Alex’s mother had given him a long speech about that—about how the Austin family was more important than whomever he planned to “abandon” her for. Honestly, he’d stopped listening sometime after that. He might love her, but there was only so much patience that he afforded the rants. His mother’s arrogance over their family name just wasn’t something Alex had ever bought into. So they were related to a bunch of rich snobs. Yay?
“ . . . man,” Jake was saying. “It’s all good. But you promise to record it, yeah?”
“Promise,” Liam agreed, tucking a large box under one arm. “But you know it’s not like—”
“Brian’s waiting in the car. Don’t want him to freeze to death on me before we even get to Iowa.” Jake reached out a gloved hand and squeezed Liam’s shoulder. “I don’t give a damn what Moira Austin thinks. You’re the right guy for Alex, and you’re always welcome back in Iowa. My dad was pretty disappointed you weren’t coming.”
Even from a few feet away, Alex could see Liam swallow hard at that. Liam’s relationship with his own father had been complicated, so having any father’s approval was a big deal for him.
“Maybe, uh, maybe next year?” he asked.
Jake nodded. “Any year, man.” He pointed past Liam to Alex. “You know this. You guys are welcome to celebrate any holiday with us.”
Alex nodded and came up behind Liam to slip an arm around him. “So what’s up?”
Jake hooked a thumb toward the elevator. “I gotta go. See you guys in a couple of days.”
A moment later, Alex was being led to the living room. Liam sat him down on the couch and pulled the brown cardboard box from under his arm. “I know your family has this whole Christmas morning thing, but when I was a kid, we always did this on Christmas Eve.”
Alex smiled at him. “Are you trying to use presents to bribe me into staying home?”
All the blood drained from Liam’s face.
Scrooge You! by Brigham Vaughn
Chapter One
Joel McArthur woke well before dawn and was still half-asleep as he trudged down the stairs and flipped on lights in his bakery on the first floor.
He followed his nose to the coffeepot, grateful for the timer he’d set. He poured himself a cup, doctored it with some cream and sugar, then carried it into his office.
Sinking into the squeaky old desk chair, he rubbed a hand over his face as he tried to get his brain online.
His first cup of coffee brought him to life enough to review his plans for the bakery for the day. There was no time to waste when he had so much to do.
Once he was fortified with caffeine and he’d shoved some peanut butter toast and a banana in his mouth, he got to work.
Joel began every day by prepping the dough to bake.
As he kneaded and shaped the doughs that had been rising overnight, then set them aside for a second round of proofing, he settled into a rhythm, his mind wandering to vague thoughts of the upcoming holiday season.
Christmas was his favorite time of year, but Thanksgiving was a close second.
Thanksgiving was in a few weeks and he’d need extra bread for stuffing. He usually sold more cinnamon rolls and breakfast treats as people picked up baked goods to share with out-of-town relatives, so he’d need more of those as well.
Maybe he’d make a nice sage and onion focaccia bread and some cranberry orange muffins soon. They’d be perfect for the transition from pumpkin spice everything to Christmas flavors like eggnog, cranberry, and peppermint.
He smiled at the thought of peppermint bark cupcakes and eggnog quick bread.
Several hours later, after the first batch of crusty loaves were baked, muffins were cooling in their little paper cups, and doughnuts filled the air with their heady scent, he poured himself a second cup of coffee, taking his time to make this one a little more special.
He pulled out a mini-quiche and carried the plate and mug to the front of the bakery, flipping on a few low lights over the glass display case.
It was still dark out. Not even seven a.m. yet as he stood by the front window, the steam from his coffee rising to tease at his nostrils.
Joel took a sip, closing his eyes and letting the rich flavor flow over his tongue, relishing the sweet cream and the hint of brown sugar and cinnamon.
As Joel studied the quiet street of Christmas Falls, Illinois, peace settled over him.
Two of his employees would be arriving soon but he liked being alone in the bakery.
Once he was ready to face the hectic day ahead, he always drank his second cup of coffee and savored it as he stared out the window of his shop.
Joel watched the sun rise while he sipped his coffee and enjoyed the last few bites of eggy ham and cheese quiche with rosemary.
It was cold this morning. It had frosted overnight and the rising sun sparkled off everything, turning the small town into a fairytale of dazzling light.
Behind Joel there was more work to be done.
His bakery would soon be filled with the chatter of his employees and the tinkle of the bell over the front door as patrons began streaming in. But for now, the space was quiet and peaceful and Joel soaked in the wonder of the new day.
Slowly, Joel turned his head, searching for the runner he’d been watching for months now. Nothing yet, but it was still early.
He was surprised anyone was up at this hour unless they had to be.
Joel blinked and a lone figure appeared in the distance, jogging down the middle of the street like always.
There were few people out at this time of day and even fewer cars so it was safe enough, but Joel always had to bite back the urge to tell the guy to move to the sidewalk.
The runner passed by Joel’s bakery every morning and with every day that went by, Joel grew more curious about who he was.
Growing up here in Christmas Falls, Joel had spent his free hours in high school working at his uncle’s bakery, needing the money to pay for college. He’d reluctantly come home in the summers to work, eager to leave the small town behind after graduation.
He’d never planned on moving back for good.
It was about a year after Joel had finished his business degree when Uncle Raymond had his first heart attack.
Aunt Margaret asked Joel to come home and help out. His cousins Arlo and Jerry were doing the best they could but they had other commitments and responsibilities.
Besides, Joel was the one who truly loved baking.
Aunt Margaret had said it would only be for a few months until she could find a buyer for the place, so he’d packed his belongings in Chicago and moved home again, secretly grateful to quit a corporate job he’d come to hate.
Before he could blink, a few months turned into a year.
Then two.
When Aunt Margaret had told Joel about the interested buyer and their plans to retire and travel to warmer climates in the winters, it had hit him like a ton of bricks that he was happy here.
He was happy running the little bakery and living in the small apartment above it. He didn't miss the noise or the traffic or the hectic lifestyle of the city.
Aunt Margaret had smiled when he'd handed her the business proposal he'd written.
“I'll sleep easier knowing someone in the family is running it,” she’d assured him.
And that was that.
Joel McArthur became the proud new owner of Ginger’s Breads.
A decade later, he had no regrets.
Now that the business was established and he’d hit his mid-thirties, he thought it would be nice if there was someone to share dinner with. Someone to come home to. But he liked his life too much to change it.
He loved this small town where he knew nearly everyone and there was always someone to lend a helping hand. That sense of community he’d never found anywhere else.
Now, the bundled-up runner passed by his window and Joel squinted, wondering who on earth he was.
It was hard to tell his age or anything about him.
He ran with his head down, moving fast, like he was angry at the world.
Joel wondered what prompted the guy to get out of bed at such an early hour every morning. Especially now that fall was quickly passing into winter.
The mysterious runner had never looked in his direction before, so when he swung his head and glanced over now, Joel jerked in surprise.
He lifted his hand in greeting, expecting the gesture to be returned, but all the runner did was lower his head and continue on.
“Huh, odd,” Joel murmured.
But behind him, a timer beeped. The back door opening and his employees arriving signaled it was time to resume his day.
* * *
The following morning, Hayden Bradley rolled his eyes at the signpost pointing the way toward the bakery downtown. Ginger’s Breads.
What a ridiculous name.
He supposed it made sense since the big bearded guy who was always in the window was a ginger. But it was still a corny name.
According to Hayden’s mom, the guy who owned the place was named Joel. He was also gay, which was supposed to be a selling point.
She'd talked the town up big when Hayden had arrived a few months ago. Like he was supposed to be impressed by a ridiculous little town with a gay baker.
She was trying to make him feel better but ugh, he didn’t care.
Nothing was going to make him feel good about being an unemployed college graduate living in his mother’s basement. He was supposed to be back in Chicago working for the tech start-up that had gone belly-up before he'd worked a single day.
He'd been so proud of himself too. He'd had the job lined up before graduation and had already been searching for a new apartment and a new car he was going to buy.
Instead, he’d spent the summer answering increasingly concerned calls from his mom, Diane, and feeling like a complete failure. She'd been nice about it, making sympathetic noises every time he admitted he still hadn’t found a position.
He’d applied for about a million jobs, hoping his savings and the odd freelance gig would get him through the dry spell. He'd even begged the owner of the coffee shop near campus for his job back, but there were so many people like him with no money, no job, and no future. They didn’t need him.
“Sorry,” the owner had said with a shrug. “I don’t have any openings. I’ll let you know if any come up.”
But either they hadn’t—suspicious, since there had been constant turnover the whole time Hayden had worked there—or the guy had forgotten about him, which seemed more likely.
When Hayden’s money had run out, his only option had been to move to the small bumfuck town in the middle of Nowheresville Illinois and crash in the basement of the house where his mom now lived with her new husband.
His stepdad, Luke, was nice enough to him and great for his mom, so it could have been worse.
But Hayden still felt like a failure.
He was twenty-three, for God’s sake. This shit was embarrassing.
His social life—not to mention his sex life—had taken a nosedive since he left the city and pretty much all he did now was hunt for jobs and run.
The running was something to kill time and meant he didn’t have to talk to anyone.
That was what he really liked about it. That and it made the insomnia a little better.
He’d had trouble sleeping for as long as he could remember.
He’d spent years listening to people tell him all he needed to do was get more exercise and he'd sleep like a baby.
Well, he was up to running eight miles a day, and he still didn't sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time. Clearly, those people had no idea what they were fucking talking about.
Hayden automatically turned right onto Prancer Street, sneering at the name on the street sign. The whole town was Christmas themed.
Gross.
Supposedly, it had been called Milton Falls way back in the 1800s but, according to his mom, some factory had started churning out holiday décor after WWII or something and everything had snowballed from there.
Now, he lived in a place with roads named Blitzen Street and Candy Cane Lane.
There was literally a place called Santa’s Workshop.
Maybe Ginger’s Breads wasn’t so bad …
Hayden jogged through the intersection then glanced over at the bakery.
It did look sort of cozy today, with the lights glowing inside when it was all gray and dreary out.
It had been clear and cold yesterday morning, but today it was drizzling icy rain and Hayden had already almost lost his footing a few times as patches of wet pavement began to freeze.
The big bearded ginger in the window lifted a hand in greeting again. Hayden looked away, refusing to acknowledge him.
He didn’t know why he’d looked over yesterday.
The guy really was kind of hot, but why was everyone here trying to make friends with Hayden? He wasn’t going to stay in this too-small, holiday-themed town.
Hayden glanced over again to see the baker still staring, a small smile on his face as if he was amused by something Hayden had done.
Hayden put on a burst of speed, but the moment his running boot touched the ground, he knew it was a mistake.
His foot slipped and he windmilled for a second, trying to right himself. But there was nothing but slick road beneath his feet and, with a thud, his ass hit the ground.
Stunned and winded, Hayden stared up at the gray sky, pain flaring to life in his elbow and tailbone.
The tinkle of a bell made him look over, head still swimming, and a moment later a big body blotted out the storm clouds overhead.
“Hey, are you okay? I’m Joel. I run the bakery here.” He peered at Hayden, a frown wrinkling his forehead.
“Do I fucking look okay?” Hayden groused.
“Well, no. That’s why I came out to check. Did you hit your head? Twist an ankle?” Joel patted him all over, like he was trying to assess for damage.
Hayden did his own assessment. “No. Just banged my elbow and bruised my ass. I’ll be fine.”
He sat up, wincing.
“Maybe take it slow,” Joel said as he stood. “Just in case.”
Ignoring him, Hayden got to his feet, which went out from under him again and he fell heavily against Joel’s chest.
“Whoa, watch it, kid,” Joel said, gripping Hayden’s upper arms to keep him from taking them both down. “It’s a little slick out.”
“I hadn’t fucking noticed,” Hayden muttered against his shoulder, embarrassed.
With Joel’s hands on his upper arms, he finally got away from the icy patch and onto solid ground again, glad the street was deserted.
He winced at the throb in his tailbone and the smarting of his elbow. And shit, his knee kinda felt like it had been tweaked too.
Perfect.
Joel gave him a onceover. “Why don’t you come inside? You look a little banged up.”
“I’m fine,” Hayden insisted, but when he took a step forward, his knee buckled.
“Yeah, clearly, you’re not. Quit being stubborn and come inside for a couple of minutes. At least it’ll be more comfortable in there.” Joel shivered and Hayden realized he only wore dark pants, a short-sleeved T-shirt, and an apron over both. No coat. He was probably freezing.
Of course, Joel was the one who’d run outside like some kind of white knight, so why should Hayden feel sorry for him.
But since Hayden couldn’t put any weight on his fucking knee, he should probably accept the guy’s offer.
“Yeah, uh, my knee …”
“Here, let me help.” Joel reached an arm out and, reluctantly, Hayden let him slide it under his shoulder. It was awkward since he was so much bigger and broader than Hayden was, but it did take some of the weight off Hayden’s knee.
With Joel’s help, he limped toward the bakery’s door. They didn’t really fit through it very well, but Joel turned sideways and Hayden squeezed in, biting back a curse as he bashed an elbow on the doorframe.
His good elbow. Great, now both were bruised.
“Shit, sorry,” Joel said. He had a really deep voice. Low and rumbly. “Okay, let’s get you to this chair.”
The small café chairs were flipped upside down on top of the tables, and Joel righted one and helped him into it.
Hayden let out a relieved sigh.
Joel flipped another chair and crouched down beside him, patting the seat. “Put your foot up here.”
Hayden did it without arguing.
“Can I get you anything?” Joel asked, studying his face intently. His eyes were very blue.
“No, I’m fine,” Hayden said, looking away. “Just, uh, maybe need a minute to catch my breath and rest my knee.”
“Want some ice?”
“Might not be a bad idea.”
The baker held out a hand. “Joel McArthur, by the way.”
“Oh, uh, Hayden Bradley.”
When they shook, Hayden’s hand was completely engulfed by Joel’s big, strong paw.
“Nice to meet you, Hayden. I’ll be back in a moment with some ice.”
Joel rose to his feet and Hayden snuck a glance at his retreating back.
Yep, big everywhere. Broad shoulders, solid ass, long muscular legs … Well, maybe this town wasn’t so bad after all.
Hayden studied the space while Joel was gone. The front door opened to a small area with a handful of café tables and chairs. It was a cozy place, with an exposed brick wall, wooden L-shaped counter, and old-fashioned black and white tile floors, lovingly maintained.
It had the vintage, slightly rustic feel that so many new businesses tried to emulate but never quite managed to pull off.
When Joel returned, Hayden snuck another look at him. He really was a ginger. His beard was a dark auburn, his hair a slightly brighter red. Despite his size, his smile creased the corners of his eyes and made him look friendly, rather than intimidating.
He held up an ice pack and a white box with a red cross on it. “Here’s some ice and I brought a first aid kit too, for your elbow.”
“My elbow?” Hayden twisted his arm and groaned when he saw he’d ripped through the fabric of his jacket and shirt. Fuuuck. Two expensive things he didn’t have the money to replace.
His mom would probably buy him new ones for Christmas anyway but gah, he hated being so dependent on her. She’d spent her whole life working so hard to take care of him and he wanted to show her that he could handle it now and she didn’t have to worry about him anymore.
And at some point, Luke would probably get sick of Hayden hanging around, right?
“Looks like you banged it up pretty good, huh?” Joel shook the ice pack, then squeezed it, activating the gel inside.
“Guess so,” Hayden agreed with a sigh.
“Well, we’ll see what we can do to fix you up.” Joel knelt on the floor and draped the ice pack over his knee. “How’s that?”
“Fine.”
“Now let me take a look at your elbow. Think you can get the jacket off?”
“Yeah.”
Hayden grimaced as he worked the coat off.
“Might want to lose the shirt too,” Joel said with a frown.
Ordinarily, Hayden wouldn’t mind a hot older guy asking him to take off his clothes, but he’d never stripped in the middle of a bakery before.
Joel must have seen something in his face because he shrugged. “Only if you feel comfortable. I just thought it would make it easier to get the gravel out.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Hayden pulled his shirt completely off, wincing again when the fabric tugged at his raw skin.
Joel’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s some ink you have there,” he commented, nodding at the tattoos covering Hayden’s chest and upper arm.
“Yeah. You got a problem with it?”
“No.” Joel gently lifted his arm to chest height. “Can you hold it here so I can clean your elbow?”
“Sure.”
Joel was silent for a moment as he slipped on latex gloves and ripped open a packet. “This disinfecting wipe is probably gonna sting.”
“Yeah, doesn’t feel good,” Hayden managed when the alcohol hit the wound.
Joel shot him a sympathetic look. “I know. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
But Hayden couldn’t stifle a hiss as Joel dabbed at it.
“I have some ink too,” Joel said in a conversational tone. “Not as much as you but a few things.”
“Great. Good for you,” Hayden said through clenched teeth.
God, tattooing needles he could handle, but rubbing alcohol on his scraped elbow was the worst. He really had banged it up good.
Joel let out a chuckle. “Well, you’re a friendly one. I’d say you must not be a morning person, but I see you out here every day before the sun is up. Just hate gingers or what? Convinced we don’t have souls?”
Hayden blinked. “I … no. Someone I dated in college was a ginger.”
Joel’s lips twitched. “Good to know.”
“Honestly, I’m tired,” Hayden admitted. “And life sucks right now and …”
Joel raised an eyebrow and Hayden cursed internally, quickly changing the subject. “Anyway. I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m pissed I didn’t see the icy spot. Although if you hadn’t waved, I would have been looking where I was going.”
“Oh, this is my fault?” Clearly amused, Joel carefully set the bloodied wipe aside and opened another. “Good to know.”
“Well, if you’d put salt down, the ice wouldn’t have been there,” he grumbled, trying to ignore the queasy twist in his stomach at the sight of the blood.
“I do salt my sidewalk,” Joel protested. “But the road is the city’s job. Maybe you should try running on the sidewalk like a normal person.”
“Yeah, well, there’s more room on the road,” Hayden said. “And it doesn’t change the fact that you distracted me.”
“Yes. I see now. I’m definitely at fault for being too friendly. Good thing you can’t sue me for that.” Joel grinned, like he found the whole thing amusing, as he went back to dabbing at Hayden’s skin.
Hayden grunted. “You almost done there?”
“Yes.” Joel set the second wipe aside. “Let it air dry for a minute and I’ll bandage it. How’s the knee?”
“What are you, a paramedic in your spare time?”
“Nope. Played a lot of ice hockey growing up. We got banged up pretty good. Besides, bakeries can be dangerous places. It’s good to know how to treat minor injuries.”
“Huh.”
“So, now that we’ve established my credentials, how’s the knee feeling?”
Hayden lifted the ice pack off and flexed his leg. “A little better actually.”
Joel beamed. “Good. Glad to hear it. Now, let’s get this bandage on your arm.”
Joel leaned in, head bowed, and Hayden took a deep breath. He smelled like fresh-baked bread and cinnamon.
Not surprising, considering what he did for a living, but it was nice.
Not that a good-smelling, good-looking gay baker was going to change Hayden’s mind about this town. But if he had to get bandaged by someone, it wasn’t the worst.
“Now,” Joel said when he was done. “Why don’t you give the ice pack another ten minutes or so to do its work? Would you like something to drink while you wait?”
“Got any beer back there?” Hayden joked. “Or something stiffer?”
Joel gathered the first aid supplies, his ears turning a little red. “Mmm, not at this hour. I was thinking more like coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?”
Interesting. Had he thought Hayden was flirting?
“Coffee. Cream and sugar.” As Joel walked away, Hayden tacked on, “Uhh. Please.”
Joel shot him another amused look over his shoulder then disappeared into the back of the bakery.
My characters are sexy, hot, adorable—and often filthy—alphas and omegas. Feudal lords with dark secrets, lonely omegas running away from their past, and alphas who refuse to commit.
Lurking in the background are kings, mafia dons, undercover agents and highwaymen with a naughty gleam in their eye.
As for me? I dictate my steamy stories with a glass of champagne in one hand. Because why not?
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
Riley Hart’s love of all things romance shines brightly in everything she writes. Her primary focus is Male/Male romance but under various pen names, her prose has touched practically every part of the spectrum of love and relationships. The common theme that ties them all together is stories told from the heart.
A hopeless romantic herself, Riley is a lover of character-driven plots, many with flawed and relatable characters. She strives to create stories that readers can not only fall in love with, but also see themselves in. Real characters and real love blended together equal the ultimate Riley Hart experience.
When Riley isn’t creating her next story, you can find her reading, traveling, or dreaming about reading or traveling, and spending time with her two perfectly snarky kids, and one swoon-inducing husband.
Christina LeeChristina's sarcastic view of the world doesn't always match up with her life as a romance author but at least you know her characters will be flawed and real. She writes steamy slow burns with plenty of swoon, because who doesn't melt for those small, tender moments or grand, sweeping gestures?
She has books published in different sub-genres of romance, but mostly with LGBTQ characters because representation matters and everyone deserves a happily-ever-after.
You can find more info on her website. From there you can link to her Facebook reader group called The Swoon Room as well as her IG account and newsletter.
Sam lives in the Midwest with husband and cat, which is even less exciting than it sounds, so she's not sure why you're still reading this.
She specializes in LGBTQIA+ fiction, usually with a romantic element. There's sometimes intrigue and violence, usually a little sex, and almost always some swearing in her work. Her writing is light and happy, though, so if you're looking for a dark gritty reality, you've come to the wrong author.
Brigham Vaughn
Brigham Vaughn is on the adventure of a lifetime as a full-time writer. She devours books at an alarming rate and hasn’t let her short arms and long torso stop her from doing yoga. She makes a killer key lime pie, hates green peppers, and loves wine tasting tours. A collector of vintage Nancy Drew books and green glassware, she enjoys poking around in antique shops and refinishing thrift store furniture. An avid photographer, she dreams of traveling the world and she can’t wait to discover everything else life has to offer her.
Davidson King
Riley Hart
EMAIL: rileyhartwrites@yahoo.com
Christina Lee
Sam Burns
EMAIL: sam@burnswrites.com
Jingle Bell Mate by Colbie Dunbar
The Edge of Goodbye by Davidson King
The Holiday Exchange by Riley Hart & Christina Lee
A Very Wilde Christmas by Sam Burns
Scrooge You! by Brigham Vaughn
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