Summary:
Gruff and grumpy meets sunshine and smiles. Stranded in a lonely farmhouse, sparks flare then soften as winter’s longest night draws them closer.
Trapped by the snow, can sunshine and a solstice sunrise melt the grump’s icy heart?
Alone in his isolated farmhouse, ex‑soldier Jake Whitby lives by three simple rules: no attachments, no complications, no risks. But when a blizzard strands Ru Parker on his doorstep, the grumpy recluse finds himself stuck with a sunshine storm in human form.
Jake resists the intrusion, but Ru’s everything Jake isn’t: warm, joyful, and armed with a smile that could melt more than ice.
Snowbound together, Jake’s distance thaws into decorating the farmhouse with winter greenery, snowball fights, and rescuing the wonky Christmas tree he’d banished to the attic. And when Jake quietly shares the ancient solstice sunrise he’s always honoured alone, Ru is there beside him, bringing new light to centuries-old tradition.
As charged glances and accidental touches turn into desire neither can resist, Jake realises his unexpected guest isn’t so unwelcome after all.
When the storm passes, Jake faces a stark choice: retreat to his lonely existence, or embrace the man who’s brought warmth, sunshine, and hope back into his life.
In the season of miracles, where Christmas cheer meets solstice light, will their love be strong enough to last beyond the thaw?
You’ll love this book if you like:
❄️ Snowed‑in, forced proximity romances
🌞 Grumpy/sunshine chemistry
🎄 Christmas setting with all the holiday magic
🌒 A touch of solstice tradition
❤️ Sweet slow burn with plenty of heat
✨ Guaranteed HEA to warm your heart
Summary:
Opposites attract when doing a good deed brings two friends together for Christmas.
When Micah returns to town and volunteers to run Santa’s workshop, he never expects his brother’s best friend to be working alongside him. It seems the time apart has done nothing to kill the crush he’s always had on Nicholas, and he’ll need to learn to live with it. Showing up each day in his silly elf costume is going to be torture.
Back home for the holidays, Nicholas gets roped into assisting at the kid’s play center, but it turns out being Santa’s photographer has its perks. He loves spending time with Micah, whose Christmas spirit is infectious and does strange things to Nicholas’ heart. Not to mention those adorable leggings!
The festive season, two friends, two good deeds, and the gift of love.
Twinkling Elf is a low-angst gay Christmas story featuring opposites attract, brother’s best friend, a long-time crush, with sexy times and a sweet ending. It’s a stand-alone story filled with Christmas spirit. It was part of the 2022 Rainbow Advent Calendar.
Original Review January 2025:
Like the other After Xmas Holiday Reads this season, it was hard to concentrate as much as I normally do as my mother was in hospital at the time and has since passed away which makes reviewing a bit difficult at the moment. I'm not sure why I didn't read this back in 2023 but I got to it now and loved it. Everything about the story was such a delight. As much as I loved Micah and Nicholas, personally what really stood out was seeing the big brother give his blessing for his best friend to date his brother, too often authors use the friction between BFF and brother to interfere and create a roadblock but not in Twinkling Elf. Very refreshing. A sweet short novella that has the right blend of humor and heart that makes the reader smile, what more can you ask for?
Summary:
Charlie Novak Christmas Collection
Sometimes Love Catches You Out Of Step
Convincing my agent to sign me up for the Come Dancing With Me Christmas special was the best decision I’ve made in years, especially when my partner turns out to be the show’s stunning ‘bad boy’, Nico.
I’m ready to put on my sequins and my dancing shoes, but first I need to figure out how to defrost Nico’s attitude towards me. He seems under the impression that as an ex-boyband superstar I’m going to be a diva, and not even some homemade gingerbread is helping!
But the more hours we spend together in training, the more we begin to connect. Nico might be prickly but he’s the first person who begins to see me as more than my past. And as things heat up on and off the dancefloor, I realise I don’t want to let Nico go.
Our connection is only supposed to be temporary, but can we find a way to make it last forever?
My Christmas Spirit by KC Wells
Summary:I knew I had problems when I woke up in the middle of the night to find Mike Stubbins sitting at the foot of my bed, stark naked, still as gorgeous as every one of my memories of him.
So what’s the problem, I hear you cry? Gorgeous, naked man in my bedroom?
Well, there’s the not-so-small, highly significant detail that he died six years ago.
Yup. You read that right. And now he’s everywhere. I can’t even brush my teeth in peace. And did I mention that he never stops talking?
I’ve missed him like crazy, every day of the six years he’s been gone. And with Christmas coming, the memories are even more acute. But this is getting beyond a joke. Ignoring a naked guy is a pretty tough task, especially when I’m the only one who sees him.
So when he bops a complete stranger on the head with his dick in the middle of the coffee shop, I have to laugh. Anyone would, right?
Except… there’s a look on the guy’s face that tells me he felt that. But… how could he?
And now he’s looking at me like he’s expecting me to explain what just happened.
Either he’ll call for the guys with the straitjacket… or this will be one of the most interesting conversations I’ve ever had….
Syd Dufort is heartbroken when he discovers his fiancé has been cheating. Not wanting to wallow in front of his family for the holidays he decides to take the trip they’d planned as a honeymoon. Upon arriving in Iceland during the dark of winter, he immediately questions whether it was such a good idea.
Caleb Mies takes extra care to help the man he meets at the airport who is also staying at the remote hotel his family owns. Their family has a yearly tradition that’s not for the weak of heart, or those who choose evil deeds.
Caleb is drawn to Syd in ways he’s never experienced, while everything in Syd tells him to avoid the man who has shown him nothing but kindness.
Both men are hiding secrets that will be revealed during Yule. A dark holiday romance.
Melting His Grumpy Heart by Ali Ryecart
CHAPTER ONE
“Come on, come on, come on,” Ru urged through gritted teeth. “I’ll give you anything you want. An oil change, a new pine tree air freshener, a pair of fluffy dice. Only don’t give up on me now.”
The car inched along the narrow country lane, the rattling and grinding sounds growing louder. Ru gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles white. He should have got the car checked over, booked in a service… he should have done it all before he’d made the sudden, urgent, all-consuming decision to high tail it out of London. Not daring to stop to think, he’d chucked his bag on the back seat and kangaroo jumped down the busy city road to a background of the blaring horns of other drivers he’d cut up, and colourful invective from pedestrians who’d been forced to jump out of his way. Ru was surprised he even remembered how to drive, because who needed a car in the middle of London?
Ru threw a glance at the digital clock on the dashboard. It was only just gone five in the evening but his eyes stung and itched with tiredness. He’d set off just before lunch time, which felt like eons ago, only wanting to get away from the rubble of his wreck of a life and not pretend Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year.
Bollocks to that.
“Where the hell am I?” He peered into the darkness beyond the narrow beam of his headlights. Or headlight. The other one had blinked and died near some little town he’d barely heard of.
Tall, spindly hedges pressed in on either side of the car, looming and dark. Ages back, he’d passed a sign that welcomed him to Devon, Home of the Cream Tea, and had followed the satnav directions onto roads that had grown smaller and narrower, until they became lanes, until the satnav had shut down and refused to work. Just like his car was threatening to do.
“Thank god,” he breathed, as the glare of his one working headlight picked out a signpost, leaning at a drunken angle. Relief rushed through him. Bobblecombe. A tiny village, where the cottage was waiting for him. He’d hunker down and lick his wounds, which after almost six months had no right to still feel so raw and so, so, so damn, fucking humiliating, and work out how he was going to build a new version of the life he’d naively thought of as a fuzzy edged fairy tale and brimming with sunshine, a life that had instead turned into a very public nightmare.
“Screw you, Cooper. I hope your very tiny, very ugly willy drops off.”
Ru slammed his foot on the brake. The car skidded to a screeching halt. He squinted up at the sign. “Fourteen miles?” he wailed.
Ru glanced around the interior of the car. Would it make it? At best it was touch and go. He wrinkled his nose. Was that a burning rubber smell? Ru breathed deep to push down on the worry that teetered on the edge of panic. The car had to make it, because in the middle of nowhere, in the black of night, there was no Plan B. Jesus, there had barely been a Plan A. Grinding the gears, wincing at the angry squeals, he crept along a lane that was even tighter than the one he’d emerged from.
“You can do it, you can,” he muttered, urging the car on through sheer will and determination. He sniffed again, sure the burning smell was getting worse. Maybe he should have subscribed to one of the big breakdown companies. Maybe he should have bought road tax and insurance. Maybe he should have caught the train and then hired a car in Exeter.
“Maybe I should have bloody well thought what I was doing.”
The car grunted in agreement, and ground to a halt.
“No! No, no, no, no no!” Ru smashed his palms against the steering wheel, over and over, before slumping forward and pressing his forehead into the worn, rubbery covering. “We’re so close. Only a few miles to go. Please don’t do this to me. Please.”
Ru didn’t care that he sounded pathetic, dejected, and defeated, because they were exactly what he was. He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.
Reboot. He had to reboot the engine. It’s what you did with laptops and tellies when they played up. Turn them off, then on again, throwing in a thump for good measure. The same principle had to work with cars… Sucking in a long, deep breath and holding it tight, as though that might somehow help, Ru switched off the ignition, counted to ten, and turned the key.
The car coughed into what passed for life. Ru exhaled, noisy and relieved, and his fast and jumpy pulse calmed. The engine protested as he tried to move off in fourth, the gears complaining as he wrangled the sticky gear stick into first.
Setting off at a crawl, Ru peered into the narrow, puny tunnel of light ahead of him. Another fork in the lane, and a signpost that was leaning so far it was almost on the ground. Bobblecombe was… the left turn? It looked like it, but… Oh, god, give me a break, please…
Ru made his decision.
The car grumbled.
And then it began to snow.
Twinkling Elf by Nic Starr
Chapter One
Christmas was a magical time of the year.
Micah loved every minute of the holiday season from the gift shopping, to the decorating, to the festivities. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he danced around his bedroom to the carol blasting from the speaker on top of the chest of drawers. He didn’t need the words of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” to make sure he had a good time—he had Christmas down pat and a great holiday season was guaranteed. Well, maybe not guaranteed, because having someone to share it with would be the icing on the cake, but he was determined not to let his single status ruin his plans, especially now he’d moved back to his hometown for a fresh start.
He put away the last of the clean clothes he’d been folding as the dulcet tones of Sam Smith transitioned to the Biebs singing about mistletoe. He smiled with satisfaction at the immaculate state of the room; laundry all done, fresh sheets on the bed, and not a speck of dust in sight thanks to the hour of dusting and vacuuming he’d put in earlier that day. His mom would be so proud after the “tidy house leads to tidy minds” speech she’d given earlier in the week when she’d popped around unannounced and seen the state of his small apartment. He supposed she had a point, as he’d definitely been slow to unpack and settle in. But Christmas provided excellent motivation—after all, he couldn’t decorate a place that looked like a bomb had hit. Now the apartment was spic and span and all ready for him to tackle the box of decorations his mom had dropped off during her visit. He took one last look at the neat row of clothes before shutting the closet door. Yep, a reward was definitely in order.
Still smiling, he headed to the kitchen to look for a snack and soon had cheese, fruit, and crackers laid out on the counter. The doorbell interrupted his food preparation. Damn! He popped a grape into his mouth and headed for the door. His face fell when he opened it.
“Chad. If you’re here to give me another one of your lectures—”
“Relax,” Chad said, pushing past. “I’m not here about that.”
Micah shut the door and followed him. “I told you I’m going to look for a job after Christmas. I’ve got enough to tide me over until the new year and it’s not like a lot of companies are advertising during the holiday season.”
“I know—Whoa!” Chad stopped and Micah ran into the back of him. “What happened here?” he asked, looking around the living room.
Micah rolled his eyes. He stepped around him and headed back to the kitchen. “I do have some housekeeping skills, you know.”
“I’m just glad to see you settling in.” Chad perched himself on a stool at the counter and reached for a grape. “Anyway, I’m here to ask a favor.”
“What is it?” Micah started cutting the cheddar into cubes. “It better not be anything that involves covering for your sorry ass again.” The last time he’d done a favor for his school teacher brother, he’d ended up coaching the under 10’s baseball team for half the season and team sports were definitely not his forte.
Chad chuckled. “Not this time. It’s actually more of a favor for Carol.”
“Carol? As in Carol Mathers?” Micah stopped chopping and looked up. Carol was the mom of Chad’s best friend, Nicholas. Nicholas, whose very name still had the power to send a wave of excitement through him.
Chad snagged a cube of cheese. “You know how she owns the kids’ play center at the mall and they do the Santa’s workshop thing each year?”
“Sure.” The Christmas-themed workshop was the place every kid in town went to get their obligatory yearly photo with Santa and tell him the contents of their gift list.
“Well, the last couple of years, Carol’s nephew has been the organizer. You know, the one to take the payments, corral the kids, hand out the photos, that sort of thing. However, this year he’s pissed off to Hawaii without any warning and she’s at her wit’s end.”
“You want me to run Santa’s workshop?”
“Yeah. It’s perfect, right? You love Christmas, you’re not working at the moment, and Carol is desperate. Plus, you won’t be doing it by yourself. There’s the photographer, and Santa, of course.”
“Ugh. I’m a graphic artist, not a child care worker,” Micah said.
“But Carol.” Chad made puppy dog eyes.
Micah frowned. “What if I had plans?”
“But Christmas.” Chad fluttered his eyes again. “Just think of all those cute little kids and how disappointed they’d be if they couldn’t sit on Santa’s knee and tell him all about what they wanted for Christmas.”
“You’re pulling the ‘do-it-for-the-kids’ card on me again?”
Chad grinned. “Only if it’s working. Is it working?”
Micah looked to the ceiling. “Heaven help me.” He turned back to his brother. “When do they need me to be there?”
Nicholas hurried through the mall, darting around shoppers who seemed determined to get in his way. C’mon people, spacial awareness! Although it wasn’t really surprising it was so busy given Christmas was only a few weeks away.
He took the direct route to the play center, coming to a halt as soon as the sign came in to view. Immediately outside the entrance, in a large area of the foyer, stood the fenced in area that was Santa’s Wonderland. Huge, decorated Christmas trees stood on either side of a wide, ornate, golden throne. A red carpet led to the throne, the sides of the pathway lined with thigh-high statues of reindeer interspersed with dancing elves. It was a riot of color and twinkling fairy lights and totally over the top—very much like his mom.
“Darling, you’re here.”
Nicholas turned at the sound of his mom’s voice. “Jeez, you’d think you haven’t seen me for months,” he said as she embraced him. The sleeves of her kaftan flapped as she enveloped him in a colorful hug.
She gripped his upper arms and stepped back to look at his face. “It feels like months, you naughty boy. You promised you’d visit more often.”
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but chuckle. “I was here for Thanksgiving. And you’ve got me until the new year. I’m not expected back at the office until the second week of January, so that should make you happy.”
“I’m happy you’re here, but it would make me even happier to hear you’re moving home for good.”
“Mom, we’ve spoken about this before—”
She raised a hand to his cheek. “I know, darling, but you said your current job bored you, and I know how much you love landscape photography, and they say a change is as good as a holiday.”
“Mom—”
“Oh, let me dream.” She patted his cheek, bangles jingling. “Anyway, you’re here now, so let’s just enjoy our time together. What plans do you have? Are you and Chad still heading out to the State Park?”
“Yeah, we’re hoping to spend a few days at a cabin belonging to a friend of Chad’s.”
“It’ll be nice for you boys to get away. Forgive me for being selfish, but I’m glad it’s only for a few days.” She hooked her arm into his elbow, and they started toward the main doors of the play center. “While you’re here, I’m going to spoil my baby with some home-cooked meals. Unfortunately, it’s one of the busiest times of the year, so you’ll have to entertain yourself during the day.”
Nicholas patted his mom’s arm. “I’m sure I’ll find enough to do to keep me occupied. Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, but secretly hoping she said no. To be honest, he was looking forward to the downtime away from the busy office and back-to-back assignments.
“Thank you, darling. If you’d asked yesterday, I would have said yes, but Chad came to the rescue. He’s asked someone to help with Santa’s workshop when it opens tomorrow, so crisis averted.”
“Doesn’t Danny usually work over the holidays doing that?”
“Oh, don’t get me started on Danny. Your cousin decided that sea and surf was more important than the job he’s done every Christmas since he was old enough to earn a wage.”
Nicholas laughed. “He’s probably had enough of all the ho ho ho. Give the kid a break.”
She flapped a hand. “Pfft. I’m not upset that he wants to do something else, however a bit of notice would have been nice. But that’s enough of my problems, you’re here for a vacation not to listen to me moan.”
They pushed through the doors of the play center to be greeted by the sound of carols piped through the large room and the shouts of excited kids. His mom greeted a few of the kids, obviously regulars, and she was clearly in her element. He smiled at her happiness, grateful she had her business to keep her occupied and happy.
Love at Frost Sight by Charlie Novak
Nico glanced at me, his expression cooling. “You must be my partner?”
“Yes,” I said, stepping closer, unsure if I should go in for a hug or a handshake. On the reveal videos they did for the main series, there were always hugs and smiles and excited screams, but that definitely wasn’t the case here. I ended up holding out my hand awkwardly as I added, “I’m Toby.”
“Nico.” He took my hand and shook it briefly, but that was enough for me. His grip was warm and firm, and my brain casually reminded me those hands were going to be holding mine with increasing regularity.
In a ballroom hold. Obviously.
Not for any other reason.
Given the way he was looking at me, it really would only be in hold—with one hand on my back and the other hand in mine. And even then I doubted it would be unless he had to.
No, Nico was a professional. He was going to do whatever he needed to teach me, and I was going to be a model student. After all, I’d begged and pleaded to be on the show, so I had to do a good job. Otherwise, Malcolm was never going to let me pick my own projects again.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering him the most winning smile I had in my armoury. “I’m very excited for this.”
“Yeah. It should be fun.”
“I don’t have a lot of formal dance training, but I’ve done choreographed routines before. For music videos and when we were on tour.”
He nodded. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
For God’s sake, it was like talking to a brick wall. A frosty one. I really didn’t want to think he was an arsehole, but if the shoe fitted…
My Christmas Spirit by KC Wells
Chapter One
Twenty Days to Christmas
Ever woken up in the middle of the night, and you just know something isn’t right? It’s dark, you can’t see a damn thing, but there’s this feeling you can’t get rid of, a feeling of not being alone. What’s the first thing you do?
Right. You switch on the light.
So I did just that. I reached over, trying not to knock my glass of water onto my phone—yeah, been there, done that—and clicked on my bedside lamp. I blinked a couple of times to become accustomed to the light, before sitting up to take a look around my bedroom. Everything seemed norm—
Fuck. Mike was sitting at the foot of my bed, smiling. And naked.
I did what any sane person would do. I pinched myself, then I closed my eyes and waited a few seconds. Cautiously I opened them and—
Fuck. He was still there.
Then I got it. I was dreaming. But God, it felt so real.
“Aren’t you going to say hello?”
It was Mike’s voice. Not that this was the first time I’d dreamed of him. The first couple of years after he died, there’d been a lot of dreams.
Never one like this though. For one thing, the only naked dreams I’d had were of the two of us between the sheets. Mike sitting cross-legged, hands clasped, his elbows on his knees? This was a new one.
Mike’s rich chuckle was exactly as I remembered it. “You’re not dreaming, sweetheart.”
“Sure,” I said. “In which case, I’m talking to a ghost.” And didn’t that thought send a shiver down my back? Not to mention icy fingers trailing over my skin, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.
Mike simply nodded.
I took a deep breath. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
This wasn’t fair. Why my subconscious had chosen to torture me like this, I had no idea. I closed my eyes again, squeezing them tight shut. This time, he’d be gone.
When a cool, gentle hand touched my shoulder, I almost leaped out of my skin. I opened my eyes, and Mike was standing beside me, and…
Oh dear God. I could smell him. The same familiar scent that had clung to his pillowcase. I’d put off washing it for so long, desperate to hold onto a part of him. I wanted to inhale him, to fill myself with him. I gazed at his body, as toned as I remembered, not a hair on that smooth, wide chest, his abs still as perfect as the day he—
This was not fucking fair.
“Do they have a gym where you are?” I demanded, more harshly than I intended, but I was pissed off. I didn’t ask to be tortured with dreams of Mike. Not after six years. And certainly not with him looking so… perfect. Even his dick was as I remembered it. He used to call it his torpedo, for obvious reasons. That thing was lethal.
“I take it I still look good.” Mike preened, flexing, his muscles bulging.
That did it. Despite my initial fear, I started laughing. “Still as vain as ever, I see.”
He narrowed his gaze. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to look your best.” He peered closely at me. “You haven’t changed much. Your beard’s fuller, and you’ve let your hair grow longer on top. And you’re still hot.” He grasped his dick and smacked it against his palm. “I’d do you,” he added with a grin. “If I was allowed to, which I’m not.”
I almost choked. “Gee, thanks.”
If this wasn’t a dream, then what the hell was he doing here? I figured the obvious solution was to ask.
“Mike… Not that I’m not delighted to see you…” Except ‘delighted’ was the wrong word. Shocked? Amazed? None of them came close. What surprised me was that I was no longer afraid. Ghost or not, I had nothing to fear from Mike. “What are you doing here?”
“What happened to being delighted to see me?” That grin hadn’t faded. “Aren’t I allowed to pop in on a visit?” He rolled his eyes. “At least this time I get to speak to you.”
“This time? There have been others?”
His expression softened. “Every time you dreamed of me.”
That brought a lump to my throat, and I swallowed hard. I gestured to his body, his erect dick that was so difficult to ignore. “And why the lack of clothing?” I rolled my eyes. “For God’s sake, stop pointing that thing at me.”
He snorted. “They said I could come back anyway I liked.” Mike’s eyes gleamed. “I chose naked.”
They? Not that I was about to inquire further. “Okay, so you were just passing through and you thought you’d drop in. Why now? It’s been six years.”
Mike studied me in silence for a moment, then sat at the foot of the bed. “I’ve been taking a look around the flat. It looks a little different.”
“I refer you to my last remark. It’s been six years.” Some part of my brain was having severe difficulty coping with the fact that I was talking to a dead guy. And there was still a tiny part of me that was certain this was a dream.
“Andy, Christmas is in three weeks’ time. Not that you’d know it, looking at this place. No cards up. No tree. In fact, the apartment looks like Ebenezer Scrooge lives here.”
“Hey!” I gave him an indignant stare. “When did I ever put up a tree before the 13th of December?”
Mike waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Twelve days before, and it has to be down by twelfth night.”
And so it had always been, except for once. Not that I was about to go there.
He cocked his head to one side. “You can’t bullshit me, Andy. The tree ornaments are still in the box in the garage. You haven’t been near Garretts. You know, that place you always got your tree from.”
I blinked. “Have you been watching me? Because that doesn’t sound like I was dreaming at the time.”
Mike snorted again. “Sweetheart, I’ll let you in on a secret. You know that favourite film of yours, Dogma? When Rufus says that all the dead do is watch the living? He nailed it.”
I widened my gaze. “Oh, now there’s a creepy thought.” “
And you’re being evasive.” Mike speared me with an intense gaze. “You were a Christmas nut. Decorations, films, those cheesy Christmas songs on the radio, carol concerts, turning on the Christmas lights in London…”
I didn’t want to talk about this.
“So, is this a fleeting visit?” The joy I’d experienced at seeing him again had faded into a sharp reminder of the pain of losing him. A pain I thought I’d gotten used to. Apparently not.
Mike got up off the bed. “I’m going to be around for a while. I’m not done yet.” There was something in his voice that troubled me. Mike had always been such a carefree, laid-back soul. Nothing ever got to him. This Mike sounded like a grown-up.
It took dying to mature him? Now there was a strange thought.
“So you are here for a purpose?”
Mike nodded.
“Care to share it with me?”
“Eventually. Right now, you need to get some sleep. You’ve got work in the morning.” And before I could say a word, he faded from view. No sound to accompany him, just a gentle fadeout, leaving me alone in my room.
I stared at the spot where he’d stood. Part of me knew why my brain had chosen to inflict me with such a hallucination at this time. The following day would be six years since I got that damned phone call. It was one of those days that I didn’t need to keep marked on a calendar.
This one would be forever etched in my memory.
Six years ago
I smiled to myself, as I liberally added tinsel to the tree branches. He is going to love this. Mike was on his way home from a business course, three days stuck in Oxford. I normally waited until 12 days before Christmas to put up the Christmas tree, but he’d sounded so pissed off on the phone that I wanted to surprise him. I’d even found our new Christmas decoration, and I couldn’t wait for him to see it. It was kind of a tradition. The year we got together, we’d gone shopping for a new tree ornament. The following Christmas, we did the same. Just one new thing. And here we were, five years since he’d moved in, and it still felt fresh and new.
I glanced at the clock. Mike had taken the decision to drive to the course, after checking up on the train times and discovering it would not be as straightforward as he thought. December was a shit time for the rail company to strike. Of course, the sudden snowfall would make life more interesting, but that was typical of life in the UK. A couple of inches of snow, and it made the news.
My phone warbled on the coffee table, I picked it up, smiling at Mike’s name. I swiped a finger across the screen to answer. “Where are you? You must be almost home by now.”
There was silence for a moment, then the distinctive noise of a throat clearing. “This is Sergeant Paul Owens of the Thames Valley police.”
My heart stuttered. “Oh really?”
“You’re acquainted with Mike Stubbins?”
Then I got it. “This is some friend of Mike’s from the course, isn’t it? He’s put you up to this. Well, put Mike on the phone. This isn’t funny.” Except… what was he doing with Mike’s phone, if Mike was driving back to me?
There was another brief silence. “Sir, I’m calling from the John Radcliffe hospital in Oxford. There was an accident this evening.”
Oh my God. My heart started hammering. “A traffic accident? Is Mike okay?” I haven’t seen or heard any news of a pileup on the TV.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you, but Mr. Stubbins apparently had a heart attack while driving, and lost control of the car. He managed to steer it onto the hard shoulder, but ended up hitting the barriers. He was taken to the hospital, but they weren’t able to save him. He’s…”
Enough. The memory was still fresh. I didn’t want to think about it anymore.
I clicked off the light, pulled the duvet up over my shoulders, and settled back to sleep.
Except sleep proved pretty elusive. I closed my eyes, and there was Mike.
Why did you come back?
Unless it had all been a figment of my imagination. I knew which of the two options I preferred. I grabbed a pillow, wrapped my arms around it, and buried my face in it. The tears I thought long gone were back, soaking into the fabric.
“Mike,” I whispered into the soft cotton. “Why did you come back?”
The Boys by BL Maxwell
One
Syd
After landing at the airport in Reykjavik, Iceland, I was exhausted and still needed to figure out how to get to my hotel. “You’ll need to get a ticket for the airport bus to take you to the bus station where you’ll board another bus that will take you downtown. There, you’ll need to get the shuttle that will take you to your hotel,” a man at an information booth told me. I tried to focus on his words but so much had happened the past three days that I was struggling.
He waited for me to acknowledge what he’d said, but I just couldn’t. “Here, let me see your phone.” I handed it to him, and he tapped at something. I looked around and wondered if this had really been a good idea. This was meant to be a honeymoon with my husband, but since he’d decided I wasn’t what he wanted, and the fact he’d been fucking his coworker for months, I was now single. “Sir?”
“Oh sorry, it was a long flight.”
“No problem. I’ve opened the site where you can purchase your ticket. The bus will be out front momentarily, so get your luggage then wait out there.” He spoke slowly and watched as I did what he’d instructed me to do. When the ticket was confirmed, I looked up into his eyes that were filled with concern. “Everything good?”
“I have the ticket. Thank you. My husb—someone else made all the plans but I ended up going alone and they didn’t share the information. So, I’m on my own and a little out of sorts.” I hadn’t meant to say any of that, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself. In one moment, my whole life had changed, and I hadn’t had time to process it. Not even the ten-hour flight was long enough for that.
“Good luck, sir, it’s that way to pick up your luggage.” He pointed at a sign with an arrow and waited for me to acknowledge it.
“Thank you,” I said, hiked my backpack up on my shoulder, and walked in the direction he’d indicated. I’d flown on my own many times, but there was a sadness I couldn’t shake as I walked down the halls of the airport, farther away from home than I’d ever been.
After following everyone else to the luggage claim, I stood and waited for my bag to show up as more and more people gathered to wait. My nerves were strung tight as I remembered finding out that my relationship with Michael had all been a lie. “Excuse me.” A man bumped into me as he rushed forward to get his bag off the conveyor belt.
“Oh, sorry,” I said and tried to concentrate on what was happening around me. My bag finally appeared, and I lifted it off then followed the directions I’d been given and waited out in front of the airport. The wind whipped around me with a cold bite, and I was thankful I’d researched enough to know how cold it would be here as I took a stocking hat out of my backpack and pulled it over my ears. It was dark out and I was reminded how Iceland was now in their darkest time of year, when each night lasted twenty-three hours, and the sun was never bright enough for daylight to break through the gloom.
“Merry Christmas,” the bus driver greeted as he opened the doors and waited for everyone to board. I took a seat near the front and the guy from earlier walked past me as he found a seat toward the back. He was about my age, and I wondered how he’d ended up here alone or if he lived here and was returning.
I was lost in thought as we drove along a paved road that seemed to lead to nowhere. There were a handful of lights in the distance but other than that there wasn’t much to see around us. A few people chatted but thankfully most were quiet, it had been a long day already and I still had another bus ride to my final destination. After getting off the first bus and onto the second one, we were finally close enough to the city of Reykjavik to see houses and businesses. Everything was decorated with Christmas lights brightening the gloom a little.
As we drove from hotel to hotel the ocean came into view, and I shivered at how cold it must be. Finally, there were only a few passengers left, one of them being the man from the airport.
“Okay, folks, this is where you’ll be getting off. If you’re catching a shuttle to one of the hotels out of town, they’ll meet you here. Be sure to check your email for any updates to the schedule,” the bus driver said before he opened the door and helped everyone off with their belongings.
One couple collected their luggage and pulled it along the street away from us, while the bus drove off down the street. I stood and watched it for a moment before taking hold of the handle of my suitcase and looking around. There wasn’t much nearby besides hotels and the bay. “I’m going to wait at a food hall down the way. You’re welcome to join me if you want to wait for the shuttle there,” the guy from the bus said. He was tall and thin with dark brown hair that peeked out from under his woolen hat. His eyes were blue, the kind of unforgettable blue that reminded me of the bluest blue of an iceberg. There was also a coldness there that disappeared when he smiled.
“That would be great. Thank you,” I said and the two of us walked along the street.
“My name is Caleb,” he said, and held out his hand. “Caleb Mies.”
I readjusted my bag to grip his offered hand. “Syd Dufort.”
His brow furrowed and he hesitated for a moment before releasing my hand. “So, what brings you all the way to Iceland?” he asked.
“I was supposed to be on my honeymoon,” I said, and stopped myself. It was still so new and so raw it was hard to think about it let alone say it out loud, although I felt like I also couldn’t stop myself saying it.
“Is your wife meeting you here?”
“Husband, and no, we didn’t get married. He cheated on me, and I called it off.” My eyes prickled with tears, and I bit my tongue to avoid crying in front of a stranger. Fucking Michael.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said and turned to face me. “So, you came here alone?”
“Yes, we’d already paid for it, and I didn’t want it to go to waste. Plus, I wanted to show him I don’t need him for anything.”
“Did you show him?” he asked.
I looked down at the cold ground before continuing in the direction Caleb was leading us. “I don’t know, I cut off all contact after I caught him in our bed with another man.” Visions of it flashed across my memory but where a few days ago there was pain, now I realized there was also anger. A strange look crossed his face before he turned away.
“Let’s get something to eat, then we can catch the shuttle bus to the hotel,” he said and started walking again.
“Thank you, I wasn’t sure where to go from where we were dropped off.”
“Don’t worry, I know exactly where we are,” he said.
“Have you been here before?”
“I’m originally from here, just home for the holidays,” he said and kept walking.
“Is it always this dark?” It was a little before two in the afternoon, but it felt darker than it had been when I arrived a short time ago.
“Yes, this time of year are the darkest days,” he said, and a strange expression crossed his features again. This time anticipation and glee but with a sinister edge.
I used to tell my stories to myself, now I tell them to the world…
The stories I only ever told to myself took place in a world where it was boy meets boy, where best friends became more, where the hero didn’t save the damsel but the hot guy he’d been secretly crushing on.
I wanted to read those stories. I craved to read those stories. But those stories weren’t out there. Or that’s what I thought… Until one Christmas, when I unwrapped a shiny new e-reader. All it took was a few clicks, and my world changed forever.
I found my tribe.
But there is life outside of MM & gay romantic fiction in all its configurations. Allegedly.
When I’m forced to switch off the trusty, faithful word machine, there’s a husband to feed and talk to, pubs to drink in, and cake to eat. I love to do all those things and more, before I rush back to write all the words.
I’m a Londoner, born and bred and even though I now live just outside of the big bad city, I’m close enough to hop on a train so I can get my regular metropolitan fix.
Nic Starr lives in Australia where she tries to squeeze as much into her busy life as possible. Balancing the demands of a corporate career with raising a family and writing can be challenging but she wouldn't give it up for the world.
Always a reader, the lure of m/m romance was strong and she devoured hundreds of wonderful m/m romance books before eventually realising she had some stories of her own that needed to be told!
When not writing or reading, she loves to spend time with her family-an understanding husband and two beautiful daughters-and is often found indulging in her love of cooking and planning her dream home in the country.
You can find Nic on Facebook, Twitter and her blog. She'd love it if you stopped by to say hi.
Charlie lives in England with her husband and two cheeky dogs. She spends most of her days wrangling other people’s words in her day job and then trying to force her own onto the page in the evening.
She loves cute stories with a healthy dollop of fluff, plenty of delicious sex, and happily ever afters — because the world needs more of them.
Charlie has very little spare time, but what she does have she fills with baking, Dungeons and Dragons, reading and many other nerdy pursuits. She also thinks that everyone should have at least one favourite dinosaur…
You can find her at charlienovak.com where you can also sign up for her newsletter, on Twitter and Instagram as @charlienwrites and you can join her Facebook reader group Charlie's Angels for cover reveals, sneak peaks and general book shenanigans!
The rainbow rose tattoo on her back with the words 'Love is Love' and 'Love Wins' is her way of hoisting a flag. She plans to be writing about men in love - be it sweet and slow, hot or kinky - for a long while to come.
BL MaxwellBL Maxwell grew up in a small town listening to her grandfather spin tales about his childhood. Later she became an avid reader and after a certain vampire series she became obsessed with fanfiction. She soon discovered Slash fanfiction and later discovered the MM genre and was hooked.
Many years later, she decided to take the plunge and write down some of the stories that seem to run through her head late at night when she’s trying to sleep.
Many years later, she decided to take the plunge and write down some of the stories that seem to run through her head late at night when she’s trying to sleep.
Ali Ryecart
Nic Starr
Charlie Novak
KOBO / AUDIBLE / AUDIOBOOKS
EMAIL: charlie@charlienovak.com
KC Wells
Melting His Grumpy Heart by Ali Ryecart
Love at Frost Sight by Charlie Novak
My Christmas Spirit by KC Wells
The Boys by BL Maxwell
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