Summary:
Once Upon a Holiday Story
One Bed, Two Best Friends.
Easton Beckett has always cherished the Christmas season, but this year, his parents are off to help his aunt in Wyoming, leaving him to celebrate alone. But his best friend, Weston Holt—his outgoing and popular opposite—has a surprise: tickets to an all-expense-paid Holiday Cruise he won through a local radio station.
Excitement builds as they leave for a week in the Caribbean, celebrating Christmas at sea and stopping in the Bahamas. Their adventure takes a turn, however, when they discover they’ve been assigned to the honeymoon suite. Easton is about to correct the misunderstanding when Weston convinces him to pretend they’re a couple.
As they navigate their week together, the tension between them grows palpable—each stolen glance and playful touch igniting a longing that neither dares to acknowledge. With only one bed and mounting emotions, both grapple with their feelings. As New Year’s Eve approaches, will they find the courage to admit their true feelings, or will fear keep them apart?
Once Upon A Holiday Vacation is part of a multi-author series, Once Upon A Holiday Story. Each book can be read as a standalone and in any order. What links these books together is The Hook's Book Nook Traveling Library, a library on wheels owned by two old ladies in love.
Original Review January 2025:
A truly delightful holiday read. Friends to lovers trope that hits you in all the feels of the season and romance. Easton and Weston(love the names BTW) have been buds forever and when Easton's family has to travel away for the holiday to help his aunt Weston steps in to bring cheer back to his friend's holiday.
The catch: playing a married couple on a holiday cruise. I want to scream "cute meet" but of course the guys have known each other far too long to be any kind of "meet" so lets go with "cute arrangement" course there is also part of me screaming "Danger, Will Robinson!" Because lets face it, this has the potential to be off the charts Hallmarky but could also completely flip to life-altering heartache. I think we all know which way it's going to go but I won't spoil the lads' journey getting from Point A to Point HEA😉.
Having read this while my mother was in hospital helped to bring a little holiday cheer to my soul at the time and for that I want to say a huge Thank You to Annabella Michaels. Since then my mom passed away so I don't think I'll be re-reading Once Upon a Holiday Vacation for awhile as it might bring back connected timeframe memories but the absolute joy I felt at the time of reading definitely has earned a spot in my re-reading shelf because you can't help but feel lighter and uplifted by Easton and Weston's story of discovering that sometimes the best thing is right in front of you.
Summary:
Williamsville Inn #8
After a devastating breakup leaves him questioning everything about love and relationships, Elliott Morgan wants nothing more than to spend the holidays hiding in his Newark apartment. But his well-meaning friends have other plans, whisking him away to the charming snow-covered town of Williamsville for a week-long Christmas getaway.
Elementary school teacher Gar Dawson has spent years pouring his heart into Williamsville's holiday celebrations, creating handmade Christmas sweaters and volunteering for every festive event. But beneath his cheerful exterior, he's been quietly aching with loneliness since losing his sister—until a grumpy stranger from New Jersey literally crashes into his life.
Elliott expects small-town holiday cheer to be his personal nightmare. Gar expects another lonely Christmas despite being surrounded by his caring community. Neither expects the spark that ignites when Elliott's sarcasm meets Gar's genuine warmth, or how quickly stolen kisses under twinkling lights begin to heal their wounded hearts.
As Elliott finds himself reluctantly drawn into Williamsville's festive celebrations—from crafting ornaments to manning Christmas games—both men begin to hope again. But when Elliott discovers that Gar has been keeping a secret, old wounds threaten to destroy the fragile trust they've built.
With only days left until Elliott leaves town, both must decide whether to retreat behind familiar walls or take the biggest risk of all—believing that some Christmas wishes really do come true.
Set against the backdrop of a town that treats every holiday like magic, this heartwarming standalone grumpy/sunshine romance explores second chances, the courage to be vulnerable, and the transformative power of found family.
Summary:
Isaac Browning is the picture of a melancholy widower, knitting to soothe his sorrows. One day, his neighbor's handsome grandson, Luca, asks him an innocent question: Why does knitting that sweater make your face scrunch up like that?
The answer pours out: Isaac is drowning in bitterness, stuck reliving the death throes of his failed marriage and the twist of fate that kept him from fixing his own life before his late husband's death spared him the trouble.
Luca has always been the king of "I got this." From getting kicked out of the house at eighteen to starting his own business or taking care of his awesome grandparents, Luca has taken what life throws at him. But Luca's suddenly single sister is going to have a baby, and Isaac and his yarny hobby are an unexpected godsend. In spite of Isaac's issues, he's really amazing company.
Together, the two men start an unlikely friendship. Luca thinks Isaac is a sweetly chaotic mess, and Isaac is utterly smitten with Luca's kindness, but they both need to straighten out their own lives before they can start something real. Except life is seldom that neat and tidy. Life is a messy yarn box of a thousand colors—bossy students, pregnant sisters, awesome friends, and the best (and worst) of family knit themselves into a tapestry that binds the two men together. Then the cosmic cat distribution system provides Isaac with a catnip-addicted orange kitty as the first step in building a life that's uniquely his own. With a little bit of growing and some help from Euclid, Luca and Isaac learn that something real is what you make of it, and with a little bit of elbow grease, the possibilities are as sturdy and as beautiful as their wildest dreams.
Beautiful Temptation Christina Lee
Summary:
So This is Christmas #2
Blair Anderson only thinks of Caden Bell as his best friend’s younger brother, a straight-laced jock still dating his high-school sweetheart. They are as different as night and day. Caden has always considered Blair an enigma, the way he lights up every room with his self-confidence and perfectly sculpted cheekbones. But since childhood they’ve drifted worlds apart.
Life as an international model isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, so when Blair escapes to his best friend’s beach house for some R&R, he’s shocked to discover Caden had the same idea. Apparently, he called it quits with his girlfriend and was looking for a little alone time too.
Instead of rock, paper, scissors to determine who gets to stay, they decide to share the house and keep out of each other’s way. Easier said than done. As they reconnect, Blair is captivated by Caden’s bald honesty. And Caden realizes that Blair isn’t a mystery—he’s genuine and funny and still utterly gorgeous.
Seeing Blair in a new light short-circuits Caden’s brain, and before he knows it, he’s confiding in Blair about his bi-curiosity. Blair couldn’t be more taken aback as advice turns to solace, then ignites into an intense spark neither man anticipated. Blair had done and seen it all, so what could it hurt to help Caden experience some new things?
After all, it’s only a holiday hookup.
Until it’s not.
PLEASE NOTE: This book completely stands alone from Beautiful Dreamer and they do not have to be read in order.
Temporary Santa 69 makes sure he’s not the only one coming this Christmas.
When my brother asks for a favor, I don’t hesitate! Of course I’ll help at his workshop while he and his new family take a vacation. I can handle one holiday season. And maybe I’ll use some of the magic at the naughty workshop to make a product to match my… essence.
Elf Willy doesn’t have time for nonsense or new products or anything that doesn’t fit in the perfectly crafted schedule. According to him, the elves just need to get through the season without any issues.
Having Nick’s brother Campbell there as the temporary santa isn’t going to get in the way of Willy’s goals.
Temporary Santa’s Knotty Workshop is a sweet with lots of knotty heat MM Mpreg Christmas romance featuring an omega elf who just wants to get through the season, an alpha, who happens to be Santa’s brother, who wants a special product made just for him and his… essence, a very naughty workshop getting presents ready for adults on the nice list, true love, fated mates, a whole lot of Christmas fun, an adorable baby, and a guaranteed happy ever after. This book answers the questions: What do grown-ups on the good list get in their stockings from Santa on Christmas morning?
Once Upon a Holiday Vacation by Annabella Michaels
CHAPTER ONE
EASTON
The keys jangledin my frozen fingers as I unlocked the library door, my breath puffing out in little clouds. I hurried inside, grateful for the rush of warm air that greeted me along with the familiar scent of books and pine.
As I made my way through the stacks, straightening a few volumes here and there, my mind drifted to Weston. I wondered if he was awake yet, probably not given he’d worked a late shift at the fire station the night before. The thought of his bed head and sleepy blue eyes made my heart flutter.
“Get it together, Easton,” I chided myself softly. “He's your best friend, nothing more.”
But oh, how I wished it could be more. I imagined his strong arms around me, those full, kissable lips brushing mine under the mistletoe. The fantasy was so vivid I could almost feel the warmth of his body, smell his woodsy cologne.
With a sigh, I shook my head, dispelling the daydream. “Focus on work,” I muttered, moving to the circulation desk.
I busied myself with shelving returns, trying to lose myself in the familiar routine. But every book about love or friendship made me think of Weston, his laugh, his kindness, the way he always knew how to cheer me up.
I leaned against the shelf, letting my mind wander back to the day we met in kindergarten. It was the first day of school, and I was terrified, clutching my dinosaur lunchbox like a lifeline. That's when I saw him a whirlwind of blond hair and infectious laughter, running around the classroom like he owned the place.
“Hi! I'm Weston!” he'd declared, skidding to a stop in front of me. “Wanna be friends?”
I'd nodded shyly, and just like that, we were inseparable. East and West, as our teacher had jokingly called us when assigning seats. The nickname stuck, and so did our friendship.
As we grew, our differences became more apparent. I was the quiet bookworm, always with my nose in a novel, while he was the life of every party, excelling in sports and making friends effortlessly. But somehow, our bond only grew stronger.
He never let our different interests come between us. He'd drag me to football games, promising to take me to the bookstore afterward. And I'd coax him into movie marathons, bribing him with homemade cookies and the promise of choosing our next outdoor adventure.
The jingle of bells at the library entrance startled me from my brooding. I turned to see Laura bustling in, her cheeks rosy from the cold and her arms laden with a tray of steaming cups.
“Merry almost-Christmas, Easton!” she chirped, setting the tray on the circulation desk. “I come bearing liquid joy.”
I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. “You're a lifesaver, Laura. Thanks.”
She handed me a mug of cocoa, eyeing the boxes strewn all over the counter and stacked on the floor under the desk. “So, how many new decorations did you end up buying? I swear this place gets more festive every year.”
I felt a blush creeping up my neck. “Just a few,” I mumbled, taking a sip to hide my embarrassment.
Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Uh-huh. And I bet you were humming carols the whole time, weren't you?”
“I was not,” I protested weakly, knowing full well she was right.
She laughed, nudging my shoulder. “Face it, my friend. You're a Christmas elf trapped in a librarian's body.”
I chuckled. “Guilty as charged, I suppose.”
As we sipped our cocoa, my gaze drifted to the window. Soft, fluffy snowflakes had begun to fall, dancing on the breeze before settling on the ground. The sight filled me with a bittersweet longing.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” I murmured, more to myself than Laura.
She followed my gaze and nodded. “It really is. Got any big plans for the holidays?”
My heart gave a little flutter at the thought. “Just the usual. Spending time with my parents and Weston.”
“Ah, Weston,” Laura said knowingly. “Your favorite part of the season, I bet.”
I ducked my head, focusing intently on the drink in my hand. “He's my best friend,” I said softly. “Of course I'm looking forward to seeing him.”
As she moved away to start her work, I found myself lost in thought again. The holidays with Weston were always magical—movie marathons, baking disasters, snowball fights. For a few precious days, I could pretend that the warmth in his eyes meant something more.
I sighed, watching the snowflakes swirl. This year would be no different, I told myself firmly. I'd cherish every moment with him, even if it wasn't quite the way I longed for. After all, wasn't that what Christmas was about? Being grateful for what you have?
Still, as I turned back to my work, I couldn't quite silence the tiny voice in my heart whispering, “What if?”
The warm aroma of roasting chicken and herbs filled the kitchen as I diced vegetables, stealing glances at Weston. He was stirring a pot of gravy, his brow furrowed in concentration. The sight made my heart skip a beat.
He looked up and grinned when he caught my stare. “Careful not to chop your finger along with those carrots,” he teased.
I felt a blush creep up my neck. “Just making sure you don't burn the gravy,” I quipped back, earning a playful eye roll.
Mom bustled in, patting both our shoulders. “What would I do without my two sous chefs?” she said fondly.
I watched as she fussed over Weston, showing him how to whisk the gravy just right and a familiar warmth spread through my chest. It wasn't just because of my feelings for my friend, but because of the beautiful bond my family had forged with him over the years.
I remembered the first time he had come over for dinner, back when we were in second grade. He'd been so quiet, his eyes wide as he took in our cozy kitchen, the laughter, the casual affection. It was such a stark contrast to his own home, where raised voices and the clinking of bottles were more common than family meals.
Weston’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Remember when we tried to make dinner that one Christmas?”
I groaned dramatically. “How could I forget? We nearly burned down the kitchen.”
“Hey, that was mostly your fault, bookworm.” He laughed. “You got distracted reading the cookbook.”
Our banter continued as we finished preparing the meal. It felt like home in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that I’d grown up there and everything to do with the people in it.
As we sat down to dinner, the familiar rhythm of conversation and laughter filled the air. Dad regaled us with tales from his latest project, while Mom shared gossip from her book club. Weston chimed in with stories from the firehouse, his eyes sparkling as he described a daring rescue.
I found myself watching him more than listening, mesmerized by the way his hands moved as he talked, the curve of his smile. When he caught my eye, I quickly looked away, focusing intently on my plate.
Mom cleared her throat. “Your father and I have some news,” she began, glancing at Dad.
I felt a flutter of nerves. “What kind of news?”
“Well,” Dad said, setting down his fork, “your Aunt Lily took a fall last week. She's broken her hip.” His brow furrowed with concern as he finished.
My heart sank. “Oh no, is she okay?”
Mom nodded. “She's out of the hospital now, but she needs some help while she recovers. So...” She paused, looking between Weston and me. “Your father and I have decided to spend Christmas in Wisconsin with her this year.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment. Christmas had always been our special family time. The thought of spending it without them felt wrong somehow.
I caught my best friend’s stare across the table, seeing my own mix of emotions reflected there. Despite the pang in my chest, his presence was comforting. At least I'd still have him, I thought. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be a total loss after all.
Weston's sea-blue eyes flickered with disappointment as they met mine, but in an instant, his expression shifted. A determined grin spread across his face, his silver lip piercing catching the light.
“Well, that's a bummer,” he said, his tone light despite the undercurrent of disappointment. “But hey, East, looks like we'll have to step up our game this year, huh? Maybe I can finally convince you to try that cliff diving Santa thing I've been talking about.”
I couldn't help but chuckle, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. “Nice try, West. My feet are staying firmly on the ground, thank you very much.”
Mom reached across the table, patting my hand. “We're so sorry, boys. We know how much you both look forward to our Christmas traditions.”
“It's not your fault, Mom,” I assured her, though my heart still felt heavy.
Dad nodded; his eyes warm. “We'll make it up to you when we get back. How about a big New Year's bash instead? We can invite the whole town if you want.”
Weston's eyes lit up at that. “Now you're talking! We could have a bonfire, maybe set up some of those extreme winter games I've been reading about...”
As he launched into an enthusiastic description of his plans, I found myself smiling despite my disappointment. Trust West to find the silver lining in any situation. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be what we'd planned, but with him by my side, I had a feeling it might turn out to be memorable in its own way.
As we cleared the table after dinner, Weston bumped his shoulder against mine. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “We're gonna make this the best Christmas ever, just you and me. I promise.”
My heart skipped a beat at his words. “Yeah?” I asked, hating how hopeful I sounded.
“Absolutely.” He grinned, flicking some soap suds at me. “We'll start new traditions. Maybe I'll even let you read me one of those boring classics you love so much.”
I gasped in mock offense, splashing him back. “Boring? I'll have you know that A Christmas Carol is a timeless masterpiece!”
Weston laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made my stomach flip. “Alright, alright. I'll give it a chance. But only if you promise to go sledding with me.”
I hesitated, thinking of the last time he'd convinced me to go sledding. We'd ended up in a snowbank, tangled together, his face inches from mine. The memory still made my cheeks flush.
“Deal,” I said finally, trying to ignore the way my heart raced at the thought.
As we finished the dishes, a comfortable silence fell between us. I couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring the way the soft kitchen light played across his features.
He was strong and lean, his muscles rippling beneath his fitted Henley as he dried the last of the dishes. The fabric clung to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the toned body I knew lay underneath. His blond hair was tousled, as always, falling across his forehead in a way that made my fingers itch to brush it back.
The light caught on his lip ring, drawing my attention to his full, perfectly shaped lips. I quickly averted my gaze, only to find myself captivated by his sea-blue eyes. They were like the ocean after a storm—deep, intense, and ever-changing. Long lashes framed those mesmerizing eyes, casting shadows on his high cheekbones.
As he reached up to put away a glass, the neck of his shirt shifted slightly, revealing a sliver of tanned skin and the edge of the tattoo I knew was inked over his heart. I knew every detail of that tattoo, a black compass with the E and W in red ink. He'd gotten it on his eighteenth birthday, dragging me along to the tattoo parlor. “East and West,” he'd said with a grin. “So I'll always find my way back to you.”
The memory made my chest ache with longing. If only he knew how much those words meant to me, how often I'd replayed them in my mind.
“Hey!” His voice broke through my reverie. “Where'd you go just now?”
I blinked, realizing I'd been staring. “Oh, um, nowhere,” I stammered, feeling heat creep up my neck. “Just thinking about Christmas, I guess.”
His expression softened, a warm smile tugging at his lips. “It's gonna be great, East. I promise,” he said, his voice low and sincere. He stepped closer, resting a hand on my shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeped through my sweater, making my skin tingle. “I know it's not what we planned,” he continued, “but maybe this is our chance to make some new memories. Just us.”
My heart raced at his words. “Just us.” The possibilities swirled in my mind, equal parts thrilling and terrifying.
“Yeah,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “That sounds... nice.”
He tilted his head, a devilish smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. “Nice? Come on, East. Do you trust me?”
I didn’t even have to think about my response. “Of course I do.”
“Good! Then leave all the planning to me. I promise this is going to be the best Christmas you’ve ever had.”
Whispered Wishes & Mistletoe Kisses by Hank Edwards
one
Elliott knew he should have been grateful Zach insisted he ride shotgun. But one hour into the six-plus hour drive, he already regretted it. One reason was that Zach had a habit of looking up in the rearview mirror to talk to his boyfriend, Marcus, who rode in the backseat next to Luna. Or, worse yet, turning around to talk to them over the seat while he continued driving… on the expressway.
The other reason was that even though the sun shone and the sky was an incredible shade of blue, the steadily building depth of the snow along the side of the road made him increasingly nervous. The last thing he wanted was to be snowed in somewhere over Christmas. As if the approaching holiday wouldn’t be hard enough, his friends had gently bullied him into agreeing to this trip with the obscure promise of a “fun time” in a place which, from the evidence he’d seen so far, had more snow than the North Pole.
He had made it very clear to all three of them that his idea of a fun time did not include being trapped by multiple feet of snow inside a small hotel room and possibly losing power. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to channel a performance even close to that of Shelley Duvall in The Shining. No. This holiday was all about putting on a brave face and making it through to the new year as a single man.
"What city is this again?" he asked, interrupting some back and forth between Zach, Marcus, and Luna about the correct way to pronounce the word chaise.
"Williamsville," Luna said, leaning forward and reaching over the seat to give his shoulder a squeeze. "Remember?"
"I do now, thanks," Elliott said.
"You okay over there?" Zach asked, glancing at him.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He smiled, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt. "I just couldn't remember where we were headed, that’s all.”
"That's the sign of a truly great vacation," Marcus said. "Just sitting back and letting people get you somewhere you can relax."
Elliott thought his living room was pretty damn relaxing, but he refrained from saying so.
“I know you’re feeling anxious,” Zach said.
“I’m not anxious.” Elliott heard the sharpness in his tone and winced. “Sorry. Let me try that again. I’m not anxious. I just couldn’t remember the place we were heading, that’s all.”
“It’s a cute little inn in a cute town,” Luna said. “I’ve been there before, a couple of times. Though, come to think of it, it’s more like a mid-level hotel than an inn.”
“Well, this is just getting better and better the further we get from home,” Elliott said with a sigh. “Is there a train station in Williamsville?”
“Oh, stop it.” Luna gently smacked his shoulder. “If you’d just relax and open yourself up to the experience, I think you might have fun.”
“Thank you, Guru Luna,” Elliott said. “I’ll work on realigning my chakras.”
She huffed. “You’re impossible.”
Elliott slouched a bit in his seat, a spark of guilt flaring inside him. His friends had supported him so much in the months since Kevin had left. They’d all gone out of their way to make this a good trip for his first holiday alone. The least he could do was try a little harder not to Grinch all over their Christmas.
He made a face at his reflection in the side mirror before removing his sunglasses and turning to look over the seat. Luna sat in the corner of the backseat behind him, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the scenery flowing past outside the window. The hairband that held back the tumultuous waves of her thick, dark hair shone in the afternoon sun, and her dark eyes looked pinched, her generous lips turned down slightly at the corners. It was an unusual expression for his optimistic and encouraging friend and co-worker, and the guilt inside him doubled.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m being an incredibly difficult and irritating bastard, and you don’t deserve it.” He looked at Marcus who had adopted a similar pose in his corner of the backseat, dark eyes narrowed as he stared back at Elliott. “None of you do.” Elliott looked at Zach’s profile and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “I’ll work on adjusting my attitude.”
“You’ve been saying that since our freshman year at Syracuse,” Zach said.
Elliott gasped. “That’s not true.”
“He’s been saying it almost verbatim since we started working together,” Luna chimed in. “That was seven years ago.”
“I think I’ve heard him say it at least eighteen times a year since Zach and I started dating,” Marcus added. “Six years ago.”
“I’d say I feel attacked, but you’re all somewhat correct,” Elliott said, facing forward again. “Though I’d like to point out that many liberties have been taken.”
“Not that many,” Zach said.
“None on my end,” Luna added.
“All right, I get it. I’m notoriously difficult. But eventually I realize it and apologize.” He looked over the seat again. “Right?”
Luna lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug and looked away. Elliott was going to have to bring out the big guns to save this trip before they’d even arrived at their destination. He gripped the back of the seat and rested his chin on his fingers as he widened his eyes. “Think you could ever forgive me?”
Luna scoffed and looked at Marcus. “Do you see this?”
Marcus shook his head, scowling. “I see it. A blatant attempt to give us big kitty eyes.” He wagged a finger at Elliott. “Not falling for it.”
Elliott opened his eyes further, adding a head tilt and a pout.
“Oh God, he’s activated the pout.” Luna sighed and dropped her chin to her chest. “I can’t resist the triple threat combo.” She looked up again. “Fine. You’re forgiven.”
“Thank you, my favorite work wife,” Elliott said.
“Favorite?” Luna gave him a suspicious look. “What other work wives do you have? You’d better not be thinking about that no-good slacker bitch Imogen.”
“Imogen?” Marcus said, looking between them. “Is she the new illustrator who joined your team?”
“Illustrator is a very loose term for what she does,” Luna said with a scoff. “But yes.”
“She’s not that bad,” Elliott said.
“She’s a low-level demon sent from Hell to torment every other employee,” Luna said.
“Wow, she sounds like a real treat,” Zach said.
“I’d like to tie her up in the forest as a treat for a bear,” Luna said.
“Okay, I get it,” Elliott said with a laugh. “I am submitting a correction to my previous statement. You are my one and only work wife. Without you, I’m only half the employee they need me to be.”
“That’s better.” Luna gave a single, decisive nod. “You’re forgiven. Again.”
Elliott settled back against the seat. He put on his sunglasses against the sunlight reflecting off the snow and did not think about Kevin at all. Nope, not one little bit. He wasn’t going to think about Kevin’s cheating, the way he had left him, or even the hurtful things he’d said on his way out the door. And he definitely wasn’t going to give any more space to that little voice inside him that agreed with every brutal insult.
“Hey.”
Zach’s gentle voice brought Elliott out of his ruminating. “Yeah?”
“You’re a good person, El.” Zach reached over to squeeze his leg. “You deserve better than Kevin.”
Elliott glanced at the backseat, but Luna and Marcus weren’t listening, engrossed instead in a debate about the merits of various personalities from some crazy reality show.
“Thank you,” Elliott said. “I hope that’s true.”
“It is true.” Zach had a bit more steel in his tone. “And one day you’ll meet someone who sees all the amazing you’ve got stored up inside.”
“All the amazing?”
“Cut me some slack. I’m trying to navigate.”
“Yeah, okay.” Elliott looked out his window a moment. “Thanks for that. The part I keep coming back to is that we were together for seven years. I thought we were good, but then I found out about Christopher, and before I knew it he was blaming me for everything and moving out. So now he’s living with someone eight years younger, and I’m trying to keep up with his half of the rent as well as my student loan payments. And somehow find a way to believe that I’m a person who deserves to be with someone else.”
“You definitely are,” Zach said. “Don’t let that asshole change the core parts of you that make you unique and awesome.”
“I’m trying not to, but it’s tough.”
Zach gave him a quick smile. “I know it is. That’s why you’re spending this holiday week with people who will help you build up your confidence once again. I want to see that vibrant, outgoing guy I met in college.”
“Well, if you see him, tell him where I am,” Elliott said. “Because all I’ve been feeling lately is anxious and tired. Just ask Luna, she sees me every day.”
“What’s that?” Luna leaned forward. “I heard my name.”
“I was telling Zach that I’ve been feeling anxious and tired.”
“This is true,” Luna said. “But also nihilistic, sarcastic, and a wee bit of a wanker. But, I still love him, and he makes every workday feel like a day at the beach.” She waited a couple of seconds, then added, “It’s a bit like being in the movie Jaws, but it’s still a nice beach.”
Elliott couldn’t help laughing at that, and they all joined him.
The conversation flowed easily after that, and before Elliott realized, Zach was leaving the highway. He followed other cars through the E-ZPass lane and merged onto the Main Street of Williamsville. Elliott took it in as Zach cruised slowly along the road. A mix of chain and independent coffeehouses, diners, and shops lined both sides of the street. The buildings were mostly brick and mortar, with some clapboard or aluminum-sided shops interspersed for variety. The sidewalks were crowded with heavily bundled visitors, and red and green garlands wrapped their way up every old-fashioned lamppost. Wreaths hung on wires strung over the road, and small Christmas trees and a few large dreidels adorned the spaces outside businesses.
“It looks like Santa’s wet dream,” Marcus said.
“Do the elves make snow cones out of his cum, do you think?” Zach asked, and the rest of them groaned, then laughed.
“And the holiday week gets off to a rousing start,” Luna said with a chuckle.
Zach followed the directions displayed on the touch screen of his car until he turned into a lot, passing a sign welcoming them to the Williamsville Inn. They all got out, stretching and then exclaiming at the shock of cold before pulling on coats and hats. Zach popped the back hatch, and Elliott stood beside the car, looking the place over as the others grabbed the bags.
The Williamsville Inn was at least fifty years old. Yellow brick was visible between sun-bleached vinyl siding and older metal-framed windows. Snow topped a number of evergreen bushes that lined the front, looking like they were wearing hats. But the parking lot had been plowed and salted, as had the concrete under the more modern metal and glass overhang above the front entrance, so the staff was paying attention to details.
“It’s not bad, right?” Luna said, tipping the handle of his carry-on bag toward him.
Elliott grabbed hold. “Not bad. It looks lived in.”
“Nicely worded,” Marcus said. “Lived in by a couple of generations of people.”
“You’re all missing the charm of the place,” Luna said with a sniff.
“Maybe once we get inside out of the frigid air we’ll be more appreciative,” Zach said, heading for the doors.
Inside, the lobby was small but comfortable, with furniture arranged in conversation groups on the right side near a gas fireplace. A front desk to the left of the entrance was staffed by a young man who greeted them with a bright smile. Luna and Zach checked them in as Elliott and Marcus helped themselves to a tall urn of hot chocolate on a nearby table. There were mini-marshmallows and chocolate sprinkles for toppings, and they added generous amounts of both. When Elliott took a sip, he closed his eyes and sighed as the sugar and cream ran in a warm trail down his throat.
“Okay, this is the way all guests should be greeted,” Marcus said.
“It’s really good,” Elliott agreed.
“I take back my comment.” Marcus took another sip. “Maybe only one generation has lived here.”
Zach and Luna approached and helped themselves to hot chocolates as well. They both gave the appropriate groan after sampling, and then Luna led the way past the front desk and a room to the right of it that looked like a breakfast area. Elliott continued sipping as he followed them to the elevator. It was older and creaked as it went up to the third floor.
“Our rooms are next to each other,” Zach said. “But no connecting door.”
“No midnight intrusions,” Luna said. “That’s a relief.”
“Planning on getting lucky or something?” Elliott asked with a grin. “Do we need to come up with a signal like a towel on the doorknob?”
“No, I’m planning on getting a full night’s sleep each night.” Luna stopped outside room 314 as Zach and Marcus continued past to 315.
“Want to get settled and then go to dinner in about an hour?” Zach asked as he opened the door to his and Marcus’s room.
“That sounds good,” Elliott said, following Luna into their room.
Inside, two queen beds with white duvets and fluffy pillows were against the left-hand wall. A long dresser on top of which stood a nice-sized TV was against the wall opposite, and a desk and office chair tucked into the corner by the windows.
“Which bed?” Luna asked.
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll take the one by the window if you want.”
He rolled his bag across the room and parted the sheer drapes, looking down into a courtyard. It was blanketed in snow, but four trident-style lampposts stood within, the bulbs protected by frosted globes. A few small ornamental trees with bare branches were staggered throughout the courtyard, and a shoveled and salted brick paver pathway led from a door at one end through the trees and lampposts in a meandering circle.
“Cute, isn’t it?” Luna said from beside him.
“Yeah, it’s nice.”
“They decorate for all the holidays. They’ll most likely put up a Christmas tree out there sometime this week.”
After they each used the bathroom and unpacked a few things, they met Zach and Marcus in the hallway. When they got into elevator, it groaned, creaked, and pinged all the way down to the first floor. Elliott let out a quiet breath of relief as he stepped out.
“This place has a lot of character,” he said.
“The whole town does, actually,” Luna said. “Wait until you see the Christmas festival.”
“Are you sure this isn’t, like, a Christmas cult, and you’re just accidentally indoctrinating us?” Elliott asked as he followed them all out the door. The sun was just setting, its golden light bleeding into the clouds banked in the west. A cold wind stung his skin and blew soft snowflakes into his face.
“When did you become such a Scrooge?” Zach asked, picking up his pace across the parking lot and using the remote to unlock the car.
“Yeah,” Marcus said. “You never really complained about Christmas before. You guys always went all out on the decorations every year.”
Elliott felt the constant ache he’d been harboring climb higher into his chest, wrapping cold hands around his heart. It sprouted needle-sharp talons that pierced deep into the muscle. He hadn’t felt the loss that sharply since the weeks immediately after the breakup. He was always surprised at the small things that triggered the reaction. Marcus’s casual comment brought up a sudden montage of memories, each one carrying a flicker of comfort and love, emotions Elliott was no longer supposed to feel. Kevin loved to string lights around the ceiling of their apartment, always multicolored, always festive. They’d buy the plumpest tree and rearrange the furniture to squeeze it into the corner by the windows so it would be visible from the street. And carrying it up three flights of stairs had always left them breathless with laughter.
Now, Elliott supposed Kevin was doing all of that with his younger stallion. And Elliott had fled his drab, overpriced, definitely-not-decorated-for-Christmas apartment to spend the holiday with his friends in a town that treated that time of year like it was a reason to live.
Marcus must have realized what he’d said, because as soon as Elliott climbed into the backseat and closed the door, he turned from his place in the front passenger seat and made a face. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s all right.” Elliott hoped his smile looked more unbothered than it felt. “Kevin made a lot of the decorating decisions, but you’re right. I never complained about Christmas before. I promise I won’t ruin it for you guys.”
“No, you could never do that,” Luna said from beside him, reaching out to touch his arm. “I’m just glad you agreed to come along with us and not spend the holidays in your apartment.”
“Alone,” Elliott said with a sad smile. “You forgot to say alone in my apartment.”
Zach caught his eye in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot. “You’re not alone. You’ve got all of us.”
“Yeah, I know.” Elliott smiled again, and it felt better this time, more natural. “You’re right. I’ve got all of you.”
He looked out the window and pushed the happy memories lit by the soft glow of Christmas lights to the back of his mind. That part of his life had been over for a while now. It was time for him to figure out what came next. Easy as that.
Elliott managed to keep from scoffing at the thought.
Karma Kitty Christmas by Amy Lane
Knitting on the Porch in May
ISAAC SCOWLED with dissatisfaction at the six giant bins full of yarn. Fingering weight, bulky, wool, wool/acrylic, acrylic—he even had some gloriously colored gradients in (unfortunately) cotton. And don’t forget the sumptuous alpaca skeins that he reserved for the depths of winter. Or the winter blues—it was good for both. Basic solids in pastels and primaries, exotic colorways—enough for an entire sweater for somebody really generously sized. Even blankets’ worth of acrylic in all the rainbows.
Not to mention all the whimsical balls of scraps from the hats he’d made for students over the years. Bouncing around in their own box, the scrap balls beckoned, although Isaac had yet to think of the perfect project, so he kept making more hats in fantastic color combinations and keeping the extras.
He yearned to start a new project.
God, Isaac—can’t you finish one lousy thing!
Isaac bristled at the sound of his late husband’s voice in his head. Oh Jesus, Todd—it’s been almost two years. Can’t you leave me the fuck alone?
The venom in his own internal monologue startled him. Isaac couldn’t remember ever being that angry at Todd in their lives together.
Or at least never voicing how angry he was at Todd in their lives together.
He shuddered at the intrusiveness of that thought. It had been popping into his head more and more over the last year and a half.
He’s dead. He can’t possibly care now whether or not you were happy.
Oh, but Isaac hadn’t been. He tried to squelch that thought—it was wrong to speak ill of his dead husband, wrong to hold on to the pain, the… the crushing loneliness of the previous ten years, and use it to resent a dead man that the rest of the world seemed to revere.
So wrong. He needed an act of penance, stat. He needed to eat a bland meal (when he preferred spicy) or to ship his old, comfortable clothes to charity (when he liked to wear them around the house) or to (no!) return the quiet reserve of cargo pants and funny T-shirts he’d been buying over the last year to wear to school because the other teachers his age wore them, and one day—one day—he’d wear them too.
He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t. But… but he’d been thinking about splurging on some new yarn. He’d added to his stash over the past year, but not too much. Two of the bins here, the ones with the wildest colors. He’d been able to justify it because he had more scraps—and more time to knit—since Todd had passed, and he’d managed to make a hat or hand warmers for every kid in his honors algebra class this year—and some for the kids in pre-algebra who had taken it more than once and finally passed. Usually those kids walked in with the barest of math skills, but the state didn’t really fund remedial classes these days, so pre-algebra it was. Isaac felt for the sophomore, junior, or sometimes senior students who started out not knowing their times tables but were finally able to say they’d passed pre-algebra. On the one hand, it felt like a meager accomplishment—it certainly didn’t look good on paper. But on the other hand, it was an amazing accomplishment, because they’d had to work the hardest, and he was proud of them.
But Todd had reluctantly approved of Isaac spending his yarn and his time on rewards for the smart kids. He’d been so disapproving of Isaac’s desire to reward the underachievers for perseverance that Isaac had needed to squirrel money away to so much as give them “Congratulations” cards in the past.
This year Isaac had worked his ass off getting those hats and hand warmers done on time—he’d even had enough time and yarn for a scarf for the freshman in pre-algebra who’d gotten the highest grade. So he had plans for his yarn, including a sweater—a bright rainbow-hued sweater he wanted to knit or crochet for himself! One that would replace the plain blue one he’d made ten years ago and the boring cream-colored one with a few cables (More would look junky and ostentatious, Isaac. Tone it down!) that he’d finished five years ago, after Todd had threatened to withhold his yarn budget if Isaac didn’t finish it.
And sweater vests. So many sweater vests, with adorable patterns on them. Isaac had made one—but oh the plans he had for many!
“If you’d wanted money for crap to buy your students, you should have completed those projects first! Jesus, Isaac, do I have to plan your life for you?”
“No,” thought Isaac, “but fuck me if you’re not micromanaging the breath out of me!”
He recoiled from another crappy memory, as well as from the cringey thought that he might have had more of his own life under his belt by now if he’d actually said some of those angry things in his head, behind his eyes, instead of merely thought them and swallowed them.
He might even have kept more of his hair from his faintly receding widow’s peak.
It was that last bitter thought—as well as Todd’s incessant hammering that Isaac needed to finish what he started before he began something else—that drove him to it.
He ignored the rainbow cardigan he’d been planning to crochet for himself, or the bin of scraps that he wanted to use for Fair Isle so he could make the “hats with the pictures” that his students so loved, and reached instead for the plain cotton tote full of brown yarn.
He’d been planning to knit a basic top-down crew-neck sweater. Yup, German neckline, which Todd hadn’t appreciated but Isaac had known he’d take for granted as a feature of a “real” sweater—raglan sleeves, a subtle band of texture across the chest, and the same German hem at the bottom. Yup. That was it.
Brown.
It’s a quality yarn. Alpaca and wool, with some acrylic to keep it from pilling. With some brushing and some cedar chips, this will be practical and last forever and ever and ever and ever.
Just like this bad relationship that I can’t seem to shake even though you’re dead.
With a sigh, he grabbed the project bag, made sure his little pouch of tools—extra circular needles, yarn needles, double-pointed needles, measuring tape, ruler, scissors, stitch markers, etc.—was in the bag as well, and stood.
It had been warm this early May day, but under the awning of his porch, with the two fans creating a breeze, his porch swing would still be cool. He could sit outside, listen to his favorite audiobook, and watch the neighborhood kids play. The family across the street had a huge front yard, and fierce competitions of everything from soccer to stickball to red rover often ensued after dinner. And of course there was always Luca.
Isaac swallowed and tried to tamp down on his thoughts of Luca Giordano, the grandson of Sophia and Geordie, who was currently fixing up their house to sell so they could live off the proceeds in retirement. Todd had been right about this neighborhood only appreciating as they’d lived there—residential properties with big yards and unique two-story floor plans, as well as wide sidewalks and roads, were becoming a luxury in the day and age of tiny prefabs. Sophia and Geordie could spend a good twenty years in their retirement villa after this house was flipped, and their grandson and his construction crew were doing the place up right.
And Luca was a nice guy. A nice-looking guy. A midsized guy with broad shoulders, blond-streaked wavy brown hair, bronzed skin, a dazzling white smile under a bold, unapologetic nose, and inky black eyes.
He’s a polite young man, Isaac told himself, but that line sounded so much like Todd that Isaac was compelled to emotional honesty. Who’s at least thirty and runs his own business and looks stunning without his shirt when his jeans are hanging around his hips.
Oh God. Isaac was going outside to knit on the porch and ogle his neighbor’s grandson. He was going to hell.
Well, maybe Todd’s self-righteous ass will end up in a cold, sterile heaven, and I’ll be spared that at least.
That thought almost did it—almost derailed a ten-year habit of knitting on the front porch in blissful solitude, free to listen to whatever he wanted, doing a thing he loved and refused to give up, watching a happy world go by during the prettiest moments of the seasons.
Because the fact was, he’d rather go watch the neighbor’s unfairly attractive grandson, covered in paint and drywall dust and carpet fibers, finish a laborer’s menial job (as Todd would have referred to it) than spend the afterlife with his supposedly beloved husband, and damn if that wasn’t a big truth to swallow.
In fact, it was such a big truth to swallow that Isaac couldn’t. In the end that’s what drove him to the porch, to his place of peace, with his hated brown sweater and the audiobook he’d really been looking forward to. He just really needed to escape his own head right now, and he couldn’t afford to turn down any avenue to help him do that.
Beautiful Temptation by Christina Lee
Prologue
Caden
I waited on the sideline for the signal from the coach. When he waved the special teams in, I got in position on the five-yard line opposite the end zone.
The punt from the opposing team was high and hung too long in the air for me to make a decent run down the field. So I raised my arm to signal a fair catch.
Once the ball was caught on the ten-yard line, I breathed out in relief as my teammates clapped me on the back. It wasn’t the greatest field position, but I wouldn’t have accrued much better yardage before being tackled from all sides.
At least I caught the damned ball.
I’d just jogged back to the sidelines when I heard familiar voices from the stands.
“Nice job, Cady.”
“Way to go, Cady.”
My neck prickled when I spotted my brother, Christopher, and his best friend, Blair, standing beside my parents and girlfriend. I wanted to kill them.
“Getting some love, Cady,” one of the defensive ends said with a smirk, and the others on the bench laughed.
“I bet he’s Cady’s biggest fan,” another linebacker added, staring up at the stands.
“Knock it off,” I said through clenched teeth.
There were rumors floating around about Blair being willing to service the football team, and no matter how much he pissed me off, he was still like family and I needed to defend him.
I didn’t even know why Blair showed up—unless the rumors were true and he was scoping out his next hookup. The idea of it made my stomach feel strange. Blair was out and proud, and model perfect with that shiny blond hair and razor-sharp cheekbones. Plus, he possessed more confidence than I had in my middle finger, which I felt like saluting with right now if I knew Coach wouldn’t see me. Or my parents.
Blair definitely wasn’t a sports fan. So the only other plausible explanation for him showing up at my game was to help my brother torment me with that ridiculous nickname—that everybody now knew about, fuck you very much.
But it was their senior year, and they had become even bigger jerkoffs. Blair was absent from school some days due to his modeling career taking off, and I admit that seeing him—the guy I grew up with—all stunning and sophisticated in ad campaigns was really trippy.
Pushing that thought away, I focused on Lauren, returning my girlfriend’s shy smile before my gaze swung back to Blair. It was hard to ignore him because he sort of commanded any room he was in. In this case, it was the football stands, and when his pouty lips transformed into that confident smirk, I couldn’t stay pissed. My cheeks heated, and I shook my head as I fought a grin. Jackass. Then I got my head back in the game.
Temporary Santa's Knotty Workshop by Lorelei M Hart & Jena Wade
Chapter 1
Willy
I smelled disgusting. Absolutely, positively, disgusting. I didn’t even want to be around myself. That’s how gross I was.
One would think, since I had been working in the edible-lube station, affectionately called Lube Lagoon, filling up bottles of various sizes for the past six hours, that I would smell fantastic. After all, each lube was flavored and scented with all sorts of delicious things: blueberry, cotton candy, bubble gum, chocolate, peppermint. And oddly enough, we had an up-and-coming, popular flavor of lemon. I wrinkled my nose at the idea of that on my tongue.
Each variety was a bright color to match their flavor and with a scent just light enough that you could identify it, but without being overwhelming. Unless of course you were in the room with all the flavors, then you smelled like a sugar explosion, so much so that my tongue had gone dry.
I was tempted to plug my nose, perhaps find a nipple clamp to put on it so that I couldn’t smell anything anymore. It was awful.
Finally, I filled the last bottle for the day, put it in the sample pack, and shipped it off to the wrapping station. We were three months away from Christmas and working diligently to stay on target. Looking at the calendar, it was easy for us to convince ourselves we had plenty of time. But the reality was, we were always just one mistake, one long lunch, one off shift away from being behind.
It was a lot better than it used to be, though. There was a time when we were always racing to catch up. I did not miss those times.
Thanks to Percy’s organization changes in the past two years, we would likely meet that deadline without any issue. It was the first time in a long time we’d have a Christmas season without a hiccup. But even as I had that thought, I knew better than to get too confident.
“Elf Willy, please come to Nick’s office.” The intercom boomed throughout the room.
There were giggles. There always were. Being “Willy” in the adult toy department lended itself to being the butt of many jokes. Not that I minded. I thought it was hilarious, too. I even joked that my name was an asset when I first started here.
“Perfect timing,” I said.
I slipped off my apron and tossed it in the laundry chute, then made my way to Nick’s office.
For most people, being called to the boss’s office was anxiety-inducing. It was the elf equivalent of being called into the principal’s office; 99 times out of 100 it was because you did something wrong. And it didn’t matter if you had the world’s nicest principal or not, it still sucked.
Nick was the world’s best boss, but even so, you didn’t want to be in trouble with him. And it actually made it worse, because not only did you mess up, but you disappointed someone as great as he was.
But I wasn’t worried about any of that. My best friend was his mate, and I knew that I hadn’t done anything to get in trouble. I was on the good list. I always was. If there was a best list, I’d be on that. Maybe I should put that in the suggestion box.
I knocked before going in, but the door opened right away.
Inside the office, Nick sat at his desk, wearing his red pants, white button-up shirt, and candy-cane-striped suspenders. He was not like the other, round Santas. Our Santa was more of a Daddy bear-looking type with biceps the size of most men’s thighs.
He was definitely a good-looking man, but I wasn’t looking because this man was taken. Plus, he was my boss.
Percy, his mate and my bestie, was also there. The two of them were the perfect couple. Just being around them had me thinking about what it would be like to have a mate of my own. Not that I was looking. Who had time for that? Making sure the workshop stayed on target meant I had zero time for a social life.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes, sit down.” Nick gestured to the chair.
Percy came over and sat on Nick’s knee. “We have a really big favor to ask. You’re the only one we trust.”
“Oh, what is it? How can I help? Do you need me to watch the little guy? Cause you know I’ll always do that.”
Their young son was named after me, and I had a deep love for the little guy. Being Uncle Willy was the best. I got to play with him, and then when it was time to go home, I went on my merry way to my nice quiet home and sleep for a week.
“Well, you know, things have been a little crazy for the past two years, what with getting mated, having a kid, and all of that.”
“Of course. You both have done great, though. Things are running smoothly.”
They exchanged a glance. “Things are running smoothly, and there’s absolutely no reason why we won’t remain totally on target for this season. This is shaping up to be one of our smoothest seasons of all.”
“Of course,” I said. “And that’s all thanks to you two.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Willy. You’ve done a lot to help us out as well,” Nick said.
Was I getting a raise? No. They said they were going to ask a favor. And really, I didn’t need a raise, but a nice bonus and few extra days off wouldn’t hurt.
“What do you need?” I asked. “I’m more than happy to help.”
“Well, we’d like to go on vacation,” Percy said.
I’d been pestering them to take some time away together for what felt like ages. They had a great life here, but one thing that had to be rough on them was that they were never “off” of work. They could plan a whole entire day of family fun, and one issue at the factory and Nick was back to work. It was the way of things when you were Santa.
“That’s a wonderful idea! I can start planning that for January. That’s our slow time. Are you thinking beach resort or more of a family-friendly type of place? Maybe somewhere in the mountains?” I’d never planned a vacation, but I was addicted to the travel shows. I was sure I could come up with something amazing.
“Not January, Willy.” Percy looked at his mate, who nodded in reply. “We want to go on vacation now.”
My eyes widened. “Before Christmas?”
“Through Christmas,” Nick said, and I nearly fell out of my chair.
I gasped. “You can’t do that. Who will deliver the presents?”
Nick cleared his throat. “Apparently, it is a requirement of all Santas to have a certain number of vacation days. And you have to take them. No one ever told me this.”
“And unfortunately, Nick has not been complying with the policy. So he needs to take twelve weeks off before the end of the year,” Percy added.
I did the math in my head. It was not pretty.
“Twelve weeks puts us AT the end of the year!” The very end. Meaning Christmas would have already happened.
“It does. We leave tomorrow.” Percy sounded thrilled by what was happening, and I could see why. Twelve weeks with his family and no work responsibilities, but still… tomorrow?
My jaw hit the floor. “Tomorrow?” Well, spank my ass and call me a dirty boy. We were fucked. Well and truly fucked.
“But we need a Santa. We need—”
Nick raised a hand. “I’ve called in a favor with my brother. He’s going to fill in, but he’ll need help, and that’s where you come in.”
I knew Nick had a brother but hadn’t met him. What could he possibly know about this side of Christmas present fun? Not much.
So many scenarios ran through my mind. Without Nick here to keep everyone in line, there would be chaos. “Surely they will give you an exception. Just this one time. You can take three months off at the beginning of the year. They have to know that you can’t take time off during Christmas.”
“The decision has been finalized. It’s out of our hands. This came from up top.” Nick sounded as unpleased about it as I did. He’d never been one who liked being told what to do with his factory. I’d seen elves on the receiving end of his ire when they decided to butt in and demand he change something. It was not pretty.
I didn’t know where the candy canes up top was or who ran it, but I’d like to have a conversation with them. I took a deep breath. We could do this. This wouldn’t be a big deal. It would be like taking one of our monster dildos up the ass without lube, but we could do it.
“Does your brother have any experience being Santa?” I asked.
“No. We actually haven’t even spoken to him yet.”
Never mind the fact that he had just told me his brother had agreed to do it. “Oh, goodness, but he would do an okay job, right?”
“Of course,” Nick said, although for the first time in perhaps my entire career here, I did not believe his words. I wasn’t sure he believed them either.
His entire plan was based on his brother, who had no Santa experience, not only having the time available to come, but then agreeing to drop everything to do so. That was a whole lot that had to fall into place for this to have half a chance of working.
“So you’ll do it, you’ll help?” Percy looked at me with his eyes wide open, his puppy-dog face slapped on. It wasn’t as if I’d have been able to turn him down. He was my ride-or-die.
I didn’t think I had a choice. “Of course, sir. I’m the right elf for the job.”
My voice sounded more sure than I actually was. I was great at the parts of this division I worked in, but helping train someone to do Nick’s job? I wasn’t sure I even understood all it entailed. This was going to be a true test of faking it until you made it, only in this scenario, it wasn’t me who was on the line—it was Christmas.
Annabella MichaelsI am married to my high school sweetheart who let’s face it, is a saint for putting up with me all of these years. Together we have been blessed with two amazing children and one unbelievably cute German Shepherd. I am an obsessive reader who is a complete sucker for a good love story, but loves to feel a broad range of emotions throughout a book. I think real life is hard enough so my books offer twists and turns, but always with a happy ending.
Hank EdwardsHank 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.
Amy Lane has two kids who are mostly grown, two kids who aren't, three cats, and two Chi-who-whats at large. She lives in a crumbling crapmansion with half of the children and a bemused spouse. She also has too damned much yarn, a penchant for action adventure movies, and a need to know that somewhere in all the pain is a story of Wuv, Twu Wuv, which she continues to believe in to this day! She writes fantasy, urban fantasy, and gay romance--and if you accidentally make eye contact, she'll bore you to tears with why those three genres go together. She'll also tell you that sacrifices, large and small, are worth the urge to write.
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.
Lorelei M HartLorelei M. Hart is the cowriting team of USA Today Bestselling Authors Kate Richards and Ever Coming. Friends for years, the duo decided to come together and write one of their favorite guilty pleasures: Mpreg. There is something that just does it for them about smexy men who love each other enough to start a family together in a world where they can do it the old-fashioned way ;).
Jena WadeJena began writing in January of 2013 as a New Year's Resolution--and so far she has stuck to it!
She lives in Michigan. By day she works as a web developer, and at night she writes. Born and raised on a farm, she spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden, or riding her horses. She also helps run the family dairy farm.
She lives in Michigan. By day she works as a web developer, and at night she writes. Born and raised on a farm, she spends most of her free time outdoors, playing in the garden, or riding her horses. She also helps run the family dairy farm.
Annabella Michaels
Hank Edwards
Amy Lane
Once Upon a Holiday Vacation by Annabella Michaels
Whispered Wishes & Mistletoe Kisses by Hank Edwards
Karma Kitty Christmas by Amy Lane
B&N / KOBO / GOOGLE PLAY
Beautiful Temptation by Christina Lee
Temporary Santa's Knotty Workshop by Lorelei M Hart & Jena Wade
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