Summary:
Rochdale Security #6
Twenty-year old Otter needed to take care of his three siblings after their parents passed away. It was hard with the holidays approaching, and limited funds to give the kids a nice Christmas, but he would manage. When he applied for the adopt a family program, he never expected to find an Alpha in shining armor coming to their rescue.
Bryan wants an Omega to love, cherish, and start a family with. He isn’t getting any younger and he’d like a family before he’s too old to have one. After countless first dates with Omegas that he didn’t connect with, he had just about given up. Then he adopts a family for the holiday season and the young, single Omega catches his eye.
Otter is everything Bryan has wanted in an Omega. Kind-hearted, funny, loves kids and horror movies. But his age makes any relationship between them impossible. Or does it?
Summary:
Double-Booked for the Holidays
Witness protection was supposed to keep him safe, not steal his heart.
Human omega Indigo expects a safe house while waiting to testify against his boss, not a luxury mountain lodge, or Riven, an attractive security liaison who makes his pulse race.
Indigo is unaware the lodge is home to a wolf shifter pack, that Riven is the future Alpha, or the moment they met, Riven recognizes him as his fated mate.
As Christmas approaches, Riven struggles to reveal the truth. But when Indigo accidentally witnesses a full moon run on Christmas Eve, he’s confused and he flees.
Now Riven has to show his mate that their bond is unbreakable and Indigo must choose whether to trust his heart or his fear.
Moonbeams & Mistletoe is a steamy MM mpreg Christmas romance featuring fated mates, protective alphas, and finding home in unexpected places. If you love a human who has no clue shifters exist, a shifter with a meddling wolf, ugly Christmas sweaters, strategically placed mistletoe, true love, fated mates and of course, a cute baby, this book is for you.
***Double Booked For The Holidays brings you a new series of Christmas magic, fated mates, and adorable babies from some of your favorite mpreg authors. Be sure to grab them all and see what knotty fun Santa has brought good alphas and omegas this holiday season.
Summary:
Princes of Mayhem
The tree knocked on the front door, begging to be let in…
It was Sky and Nolan’s first Christmas together.
Nolan was hoping to make lots of cozy memories with his new family.
But nothing goes quite how you might expect when you date a necromancer.
A “Christmas” tree shows up on their doorstep—a gift from the king of the underworld—and it turns their holidays upside down.
Can Nolan and Sky make it through the holiday season with their unexpected guest?
Fall in love with sunshine-y necromancer Sky and his grumpy boyfriend Nolan as they tackle the holidays with a sprinkle of magic and lots of chaos.
Summary:
When is a kidnap not a kidnap? When it's a rescue.
Rudolf Bell does NOT need saving. But after the worst performance of his life, there are those who disagree. All he wants is to have a good time and forget everything for a while. Easier said than done when the media have done a hatchet job on him. His career's not over, though. Not until he says so.
Arlo Thomas has never forgotten the classical pianist who looks more like a rock star, even if his documentary about the precocious talent never saw the light of day. Seeing Rudolf’s bad press spurs him to drastic action. It’s not kidnap if it’s a luxurious cabin and it’s for Rudolf’s own good. Right?
When a rekindled friendship turns to passion in the remote winter wonderland location, Arlo’s determination to resist Rudolf slowly crumbles. As the days pass, Rudolf may have to admit he did need saving, and that Arlo’s the perfect man to do it.
It’s a shame snow melts and all good things must come to an end before Christmas.
Saving Mr. Bell is a sweet low angst MM snowed in, forced proximity, only one bed winter/holiday romance featuring a Christmas tree that just never seems to get decorated, snow, sledging, strip poker, underwear sharing, more snow, wolves of a non-shifter nature, a cozy log cabin, humor, snark, lots of banter, and two men who’ll hopefully learn during the course of their stay that there’s always a way to get something if you want it badly enough.
Summary:
Irish dancer Tiernan O’Rourke is given the chance of a lifetime with a holiday dance show. Or has Santa just delivered yet another nasty holiday surprise?
Devastated when COVID cancels his touring show of an Irish musical, Tiernan O’Rourke is given a chance shot at a special Christmas show. His ex-lover, Asher Bryson, is the one staging the show and tells him it will showcase his shillelagh, but not the kind Tiernan assumes. This opportunity seems to be the answer to his prayers, or is it?
Asher Bryson had big holiday plans until the pandemic squashed them. He lands a gig to stage a late-night, outdoor Christmas dance show for charity. Desperation forces him to reach out to the man he loved and left, Tiernan O’Rourke. Publicly he makes fun of Tiernan, calling him Lord of the Prance. Privately, his feelings are something else. Can he and Tiernan look past everything and just dance?
Original Review March 2025:
I have marked AJ Llewellyn a new-to-me author, truth is I have read the author before but ashamed to admit it has been nearly a decade since my last readings. So technically not new but enough time has passed that I felt it fair to mark it so.
As for Just Dance, I was looking for stories to fit St. Patrick's Day and although this is a Xmas story it's heavy on many elements Irish. Unfortunately St. Patrick's Day is not a holiday often explored in stories so I branch out to any kind of Irish connection. I'm glad I did because this is a fun little ditty that will make you smile.
A little warning, it's been 5 years since Covid hit and I think for the most part people are okay with reading about Covid times but I know a few who feel it's still too fresh or they had close personal experience with the effects and are not ready to explore the time in fiction, which is certainly understandable. Just Dance is set around Covid or at the very least the effects from lockdown and other facets of the pandemic so I just wanted to put that out there for those not ready yet.
As for Tiernan, or "Terry" as he shortens it for many baristas, is a man who had his big break yanked out from under him due to Covid but he keeps going, he doesn't let that weigh him down. Asher is . . . well at first appearance I did not like him to say it ladylike, being completely honest he had his points that didn't quite endear him to me throughout much of the story but I could see he was growing and he was trying and sometimes people just have their quirks that don't quite appeal to everyone, doesn't make them a bad person just not a favorite. But he might worm his way into my good graces but if that's true or not would be a spoiler too many I won't do😉😉.
Having stated the above about Asher did not lessen my enjoyment of this short. Perhaps the smiles it gave me did not evolve into full-on belly laughs but they don't have to, all I need and want is a story that lightens my mood and brightens my reading time and Just Dance did just that.
The Bodyguard's Christmas Surprise by Jena Wade
Chapter One
Bryan
I maneuvered my car along the icy streets and into the parking lot of the community center. Even after a year, the success of this place still astounded me. When Felix and his foundation had swept into Rochdale with this idea of expanding the community center to provide three times the amount of services and events, I had been skeptical. But now it had become a perfect hub of resources for families and individuals in need within Rochdale and the surrounding communities.
I had been volunteering there since the very first day and I had gotten to know Felix quite well, along with a lot of his friends that also volunteered there. Oddly enough, I had gone on dates with most of them. None of them worked out, of course. No, I wasn’t that lucky. And those Omegas had all found their Alphas not too long after going on a date with me. It was as if I were their good luck charm.
I put my car in park and let out a sigh. It was no use thinking about the fact that at thirty-five years old, I was still single, with zero prospects on the line. It wasn’t for lack of trying. I was beginning to think that perhaps I was just destined to be alone.
I got out of my car, went inside the center and found Felix, Percy, and Owen working diligently on our task for the evening. We were signing Santa letters and shipping them off to the “North Pole”, or wherever they went to get the official North Pole postal service seal, to then be delivered to the children of Rochdale who had written him with their requests for the year.
“Hey guys,” I said, feeling odd that I was sitting at a table with two former dates as we volunteered at the local community center. What an exciting life I lead.
“Hey, Bryan. Grab some coffee. This is going to take forever,” Felix said. He’d whine about any time that took him from his new Alpha. They’d nearly lost each other when Felix’s father had gotten into some trouble a while back.
They sat at a table in the large gym area of the center. The table was covered with envelopes, our Santa letter template, and letters from the kids which came in all shapes, sizes, and colors.
“What? Why?” Not that I didn’t mind spending the time doing it, it just seemed like a pretty easy task. Sign the letter, fold it up, put it in an envelope.
“They’re just so darn cute,” Felix said.
I sat down next to Owen.
“See, look at this,” he said. “This letter is from a little girl who said her accomplishment that she is most proud of this year is learning to tie her shoes and all she wants most in the world is a baby doll that you can feed with a spoon. How adorable is that?”
“Do they make those?” I asked. That sounded like a messy toy.
Felix laughed. “Yes. They also make ones that poop. It’s creepy, but we roll with that.”
I shuddered at that. That just sounded… weird.
Percy, Felix, and Owen each had young children, which was a little crazy to me. Just two years ago I had gone on a date with Percy, and then a few months later, one with Owen. Only one date, though. We just hadn’t clicked. Percy had been looking for his Alpha, only to realize it was his best friend all along. Owen had been in the middle of a scary situation with a stalker when we’d gone on our date. Though I was with him when he’d received one of the threats, it was another Alpha he’d called to his rescue.
“You can get started on this stack here. We take the letters the kids wrote to Santa and use the information to write a reply letter based on what they’ve asked for. Then you just have to sign it,” Owen explained.
“Perfect.” I grabbed a stack and got to work.
The three of them talked about baby stuff and things that were happening at their Alpha’s work, the Rochdale Security company. I chimed in where I could, but mostly, the conversation didn’t include me. Which was fine, I was more than happy to work away on these letters and simply be around people, rather than at my home by myself.
I was halfway through a stack of letters when I found a set that intrigued me. I read it more closely.
Dear Santa,
This year, I’m most proud of myself for being able to go to sleep without crying. And what I really would like most in the world is an Alpha for my older brother.
Love Fox.
Fox. Interesting name for a child.
I grabbed the next letter, which had the same return address.
Dear Santa,
This year, I’m most proud of myself for being strong for my brothers and what I would like most in the world is an Alpha for my big brother, Otter.
Love Hawk.
Hawk. Fox. Otter. Where these nicknames?
The last one in the set was perhaps the most adorable. The handwriting barely legible.
Dear Santa,
This year I’m most proud of myself for learning how to put on my own clothes so Otter doesn’t have to help me all the time. He’s very busy. And he works really hard.
What I would like most in the world is for him to have an Alpha to help him.
Love Sparrow
I stared at the three letters for a long time, my fingers shaking. It was as if I could feel the love they had for their older brother radiating off the paper. “Who is this family?” I said out loud.
“Which one?” Felix asked, eyebrows raised.
“Their names are Sparrow, Hawk, Otter, and Fox.”
Felix leaned over to look at the letters I had gathered. “They just moved to the area. Otter is the oldest. He’s twenty or so. And he has custody of his three brothers. They’re ten, eight, and six, I think,” Felix said.
“Damn,” I said. “That’s got to be tough.”
“Yeah. I met with them briefly a few days ago. Otter came in to get some information about help that he could receive. He works, but it’s not enough to cover three kids.”
“No kidding.” I couldn’t even imagine trying to provide for three children at twenty. At that age I was out looking for my next conquest in between studying for college exams and working. I worked hard and played hard. Emphasis on the played.
“Unfortunately, we were maxed out on families to be ‘adopted’ for Christmas, so I wasn’t able to help with that. I’m going to try and convince Will that we should adopt another family to get gifts for. I hate having to turn anyone away.”
I got a knot in the pit of my stomach like I’d been kicked in the gut. Those kids weren’t going to have much of a Christmas without help. “I can do it.” I said the words before fully thinking them through. My department at work adopted several families during the holiday season, but I supposed I could take care of this family with my personal funds.
“Really? That would be awesome. Give it some thought, make sure you really want to, and I’ll get you the information for it.”
I nodded. I would think about it, but I doubted I would change my mind. Something about those letters from three heartbroken kids rattled me and I wanted to help. I had a strange desire to meet this Otter as well. To be caring for his three siblings at his age? He had to be one hell of a man.
I filled out the reply from Santa with an ache in my chest. Knowing that their brother would not be getting an Alpha for Christmas and these kids would probably continue to struggle long after the holiday season had passed. It was the least I could do to make sure they had a merry Christmas.
Luckily, it sounded like their brother, Otter, was doing the best that he could.
Perhaps I would be able to meet these kids. I knew a lot of the families that utilized the center.
“So, what have you been up to lately, Bryan? Anything exciting?” Percy asked.
I shot a glance at him, knowing what the question was really about. “I haven’t been on any dates,” I said. “I have given up on that whole scene.” That wasn’t completely true, but I had stopped using dating sites. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Don’t give up, Bryan. Your Omega is out there.”
I snorted. “I’m sure he is, but he’s probably found another Alpha by now. Maybe I’m too picky.”
I picked up another stack of letters.
Percy shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want. Do you know what you want?”
Yes. I could almost picture my Omega. “Someone to hang out with. Watch Stephen King movies with and debate about whether or not the book was better. Someone who likes museums and musical soundtracks. Someone who likes kids and wants a bunch of them.”
“Well, that’s not specific at all,” Owen said with a hint of sarcasm.
I shrugged. “Yeah, like I said, maybe I’m too picky.”
Felix patted my shoulder. “You’ll find him, Bryan.”
I doubted it, but I wasn’t about to kill the mood any more than I already had.
Moonbeams & Mistletoe by Colbie Dunbar
ONE
INDIGO
“Are you sure this is it?”
I peered at the snow-covered sign as we turned off the highway. It had to be a mistake. Jeff, who’d traveled with me on the flight, pulled over and checked his phone.
“I thought it was something like the Winter Wonderland Wilderness Lodge.”
That was a mouthful, but Agent Fairbanks had assured me it was the best place for short-term witness protection. It wasn’t traditional witsec where I got a new name, identity, and was moved to a different city. Nope, this was more of a precaution. It’d only be for a few weeks and I’d spend Christmas here. Not that I’d had any plans for the holidays.
“Moonridge Lodge,” Jeff read out. “This is the place, but let me check with the boss.”
Agent Fairbanks picked up immediately, his gruff voice echoing around the car. “Yeah?” Jeff read out the name. “That’s it. Had to make a last-minute change.” He cleared his throat. “The original place was too crowded, and this lodge is very discreet. We’ve used them before.” The sound of kids arguing drifted through the phone, and he shouted at them to be quiet. “They’re expecting you.”
“All good.” Jeff hung up and drove in.
I stared through the window at what appeared to be a luxury mountain resort nestled in a valley and hemmed in on two sides by snow-capped mountains, instead of the modest one I'd been told about. There was a large main building and cabins dotted between pine trees, draped in fairy lights.
Maybe my time here wouldn’t be so bad.
Jeff got out of the car, ready to take me inside, but Agent Fairbanks had said before I departed that there was no need for him to suss out the joint, as he called it. The folks here had dealt with many guests in my situation over the years. I didn’t need babysitting.
“Never lost one,” Agent Fairbanks had joked when I last spoke to him. Maybe that was FBI humor.
Weeks ago, I'd been an accountant at Fitzgerald & Associates, and I’d discovered that my boss, Marty Fitzgerald, had been embezzling money. I puzzled over what to do but knew I had to contact the authorities. The guy was a friend and mentor, but I’d made the call.
After sitting in a small room for days, drinking bitter black coffee and telling the agents what I knew, I’d been told I had to disappear for a few weeks.
“Nothing dramatic,” Agent Fairbanks had assured me. “Just a precaution. He might lean on you to change your story, but we don’t think he’s connected to something bigger. We've got you set up somewhere safe. You’ll love it.”
I’d doubted that last part, but on looking at the lodge and its surroundings, I was thinking maybe he’d been right. Trudging through the snow toward the main building, I hadn’t been expecting a five-star stay. The government must have upgraded their witsec accommodations, because in the movies, it was always some cockroach-infested motel or scruffy apartment.
Pushing open the massive doors, the warmth hugged me and the scent of pine permeated the air. There were stone fireplaces at either end of the lobby and paintings adorned the walls. Leather couches and armchairs were situated around the space, but there was no decorated tree. Instead, the room was dotted with wreaths and candles.
The Christmas atmosphere was more subdued than in the city where the mishmash of colors and lights gave the impression Santa’s elves had tossed everything at the scene and scampered away giggling. Christmas at the lodge must be a quieter affair, and I appreciated the effort that brought the flavor of the season inside without blaring carols 24/7.
A woman behind the reception desk looked up as I approached.
“You must be our special guest!” She clasped her hands together. “We've been expecting you.”
I was special, but I was supposed to be lying low. But she’s just announced it to the world, though there were only a handful of people in the lobby, most of them reading.
“I'm Antonia, the lodge manager.” But as I approached, the color drained from her face, and she sniffed.
Did I smell? I moved my head to the side, trying to catch a whiff of my underarm. Nothing.
“Indigo—” Shit, I shouldn’t give my real name. Agent Fairbanks said it didn’t matter because the lodge had excellent security. It was too late now. I wasn’t good at subterfuge, and if I’d said my name was John or Maximilian, I’d forget for sure. I set my bag down and tried to look as though I belonged in a place with chandeliers.
“Is there something wrong?” Now was the time it’d be good to have eyes in the back of my head in case bad guys were poised to take me out. But my boss had stolen money. He didn’t have links to organized crime though Agent Fairbanks said they were still looking into it.
“Oh, there’s… maybe some… or no confusion at all.” Antonia’s fingers flew over her keyboard. “Cabin Twelve, just as arranged. It’s perfect, as it’s isolated from the other ones.”
It was supposed to be Cabin 150 at the other place, and isolated was good, but it suggested I’d be all alone with the mountains towering over me and snow blocking the doorway.
“And we've assigned you our best guest liaison to make sure you have everything you need during your stay.” For a second I wondered if I’d walked into a trap. But I was letting my imagination get away from me.
A guest liaison? Was that a polite term for a beefy guy with a gun who’d stand outside and fight off people intent on harming me? My mental image of witness protection had involved more hiding in seedy motels and less personal service.
“That's kind of you, but I don't need—”
“Riven.” Antonia peered at a place over my shoulder. “Your guest has arrived.”
I followed her gaze and gulped. Damn, I might have drooled, and I definitely stared. The man walking toward me had to have been ordered from a bodyguard catalogue. He literally took my breath away, and I had to remind myself to breathe. In, out, in, out. He was tall with broad shoulders, dark hair, and eyes that matched the green of the pine trees outside.
But just as Antonia had, he sniffed, and unlike the front desk manager, he screwed up his face as though he was in pain. But he managed to get out my name, and when he said, “Indigo,” it reminded me of syrup, swirling and spiraling onto pancakes.
He shot Antonia a glance, and she shrugged. “Good to meet you. I'm Riven Morris.”
Riven. I repeated the name in my head. What had I done to deserve a Christmas present like this? I must have been very good this year.
“I'll be staying in the cabin with you.”
Goody. Merry Christmas to me. “Is that… normal? For this kind of thing?”
Riven and Antonia shared a glance.
“Every situation is unique,” Riven said. “But yes, it's standard protocol when guests have special circumstances.”
I picked up my bag. “Well, I should head to the cabin.”
“Absolutely.” Riven pointed to a side door. “We'll go this way. It's more private.”
Walking in the woods as the sun set with a man assigned to be at my side would have been disconcerting when it appeared I wasn’t who they were expecting. But Riven was droolworthy, and I was already imagining him naked.
“Ummm, I can find it by myself if you give me the key.” Riven could come later ‘cause I was sure he had other things to do besides babysit me. Not that I minded being looked after.
“Nope, I’ll escort you.” He insisted on taking my bag, and our footsteps crunched on the snow, making almost as much noise as my heart.
As we walked, I eyed a clump of something in a tree, and he explained it was mistletoe. Hard to believe, it didn’t look like what I’d seen hanging over doorways in people’s houses. But Riven said it was a parasite. Ewww, I’d never look at it in the same way.
When we arrived at the cabin, there were huge candy canes plonked in the snow outside. It was at odds with the more measured decorations elsewhere.
Riven followed my gaze. “That was for the guest we thought we were getting.” He lowered his voice, saying the guy had a thing for plastic candy canes.
Wow, they really treated their special guests well.
He unlocked the door, and just like the lodge lobby, the interior was luxurious, with a modern kitchen and a sumptuous living area. The couch was as big as my bed at home.
“My… my handler…” It was weird saying that word. “He didn’t tell me the accommodation was so nice.”
“Handlers rarely explain all the details.” Riven put my bag down. “But you're safe here.”
Safe. I'd been trying not to think about the implications of needing protection, but having Riven say it out loud was reassuring, and my heart slowed and my palms stopped sweating. But I suspected the heart palpitations and perspiration were due to him and not my circumstances.
“So how does this work?” I asked. “Are you some kind of contracted security, or…”
“I work for the lodge.” Riven moved into the kitchen. “But I specialize in guests who need extra attention.”
“Extra attention. Is that the official term?” If the situation were different, I’d enjoy extra attention from him.
“Mmmm.” Riven peered in the fridge and asked if pasta was okay. Was he going to cook for me as well? Witness protection was turning into a proper vacation, with my own personal bodyguard. And I was beginning to enjoy it.
“You don’t have to,” I protested, hoping he’d disagree with me as he chopped vegetables. I wasn’t much of a cook, and it was soothing watching him prepare the meal.
“Nope, I do. It’s my job.”
Something similar to jealousy unfurled inside me as I wondered if he treated all his special guests like this. But I pushed that thought away. I was warm and safe, and surrounded by a stunningly beautiful landscape, far from anywhere and with 24/7 protection. Not to mention having a personal chef.
Outside the snow began to fall, blanketing the world in white. The next few weeks were going to be interesting.
The Necromancer's Christmas Tree of Terror by Jocelynn Drake
Chapter 1
December 1
An icy wind howled through the streets, rattling limbs and tearing the last of the autumn leaves from the trees. Darkness blanketed the city, and thick clouds rolled across the night sky, blocking out the stars and the thin, delicate curve of the moon. Fall was withering away, and winter was slipping its claws deep into the world. The residents of this sleepy street remained huddled safely in their homes, protected from the cold and the scary things creeping in the shadows.
In fact, necromancer and general cinnamon roll Skylar had a different kind of creeping in mind as his hand slipped under the hem of his boyfriend’s sweat shirt. The BL romantic comedy they were watching was good, but he’d watched it a million times before and at that moment, he was more interested in exploring the contents of Nolan’s sweat pants.
“You realize that we’ve tried three times to watch this episode, and we never get past this part because someone has Wandering Hands Syndrome,” Nolan said suddenly, his eyes not moving from the TV.
“I know. I know,” Sky mumbled. His hand stopped inching forward and rested on Nolan’s flat stomach. Sky placed his head on Nolan’s shoulder and jutted out his bottom lip.
“I thought you said you liked this show.”
“I do. It’s just that this one also has the evil, manipulative sister trope, and that one gets old, fast. Why can’t they have more of the supportive, helpful fujoshi sister who tries to get the two main characters together? There’s never enough of that in BL shows.” As he complained, Sky’s fingers began moving of their own accord again, plucking at the waistband of Nolan’s pants.
Nolan reached over and picked up the remote resting on the cushion opposite Sky. “I can find something else to watch. Viki just started posting episodes of a new Chinese costume drama that’s gotten excellent reviews.”
“Or…” Sky drawled while tipping his face up to kiss along the underside of Nolan’s jaw, working his way to his earlobe—Nolan’s greatest weakness. His wicked fingers finally dipped below the waistband of Nolan’s sweats, continuing their wicked trek toward his boyfriend’s cock.
A sharp, brisk knock on the front door caused them to flinch. Sky whined at the sudden intrusion into their happy cocoon as Nolan tossed aside the blanket they’d been cuddled under and walked to the foyer.
“If it’s Red or Mad, tell them to go away. I’m about to get laid!” Sky called.
“You sure about that?” Nolan teased.
Sky snorted. “Yeah, like I can’t see the tent forming in those sweat pants.”
He wasn’t wrong. Nolan jerked on his baggy sweat shirt, trying to get it to stretch down to cover the front of his pants.
Sky heard Nolan open the door, scream, and slam it shut again. That was not normal!
“What happened?” Sky shouted as he raced from the couch to where Nolan had his back pressed to the wood, his face pale and lined with fear. “What’s out there?”
“A tree!”
Sky blinked slowly at him and repeated, “A tree?”
“Yes!”
“Let me see,” Sky said, motioning for his boyfriend to move aside. Humans did tend to overreact.
“No! It’s trying to come in.”
“How?”
“It has legs,” Nolan hissed. “Like…like crab legs. And it made noises.”
“Oh. Like my roses?”
“Your roses don’t scuttle around. They stay in their bed!”
Okay, Nolan had a point.
Sky walked slowly up to Nolan and laid a hand on his cheek. “Baby, it’ll be okay. Let me check. I’m sure it won’t be hard to send it away.”
He nodded and moved from the door on shaky legs. Sky grinned at Nolan, happy to wait until he was a comfortable distance away before slowly opening the door.
The “tree” was more of a teardrop-shaped shrub, standing about three feet tall on a set of curled roots that did resemble twisted crab legs. The creature chittered at him and took a step forward as if it were an overgrown cat trying to dart inside where it was warm.
“Huh. Wow. That’s nice,” Sky murmured to himself.
“What? What’s nice? What is it?” Nolan demanded from deeper in the foyer.
“It’s a witch’s Yule tree. No one has ever sent me one,” Sky replied.
“A what?”
“A witch’s Yule tree. Earth witches will sometimes bespell a tree, giving it some small level of sentience so that it can walk into a house on its own. They’re used to celebrate Yule and the winter solstice. I think they’re supposed to have about the same intelligence as a golden retriever.” He glanced over his shoulder at Nolan and flashed him an encouraging smile. “They’re seen as protectors of the hearth and home. It’s not going to hurt you.”
“Uh-huh,” Nolan said in a disbelieving tone as he inched a little higher up the nearby staircase. “And can we talk about how it makes noises? It’s a tree, Sky.”
Sky resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Poor human. Sometimes, his boyfriend was too adorable for words. “Magic. Obviously.”
Nolan narrowed his eyes at Sky, sending him a warning look. His very smart and patient boyfriend also knew when he was being placated. “Can you send it back?”
Sky’s warm expression fell away, and he stared down at the tree again. That didn’t seem like a good idea. The magic emanating from the tree didn’t have the same tingle as Redstone’s or Maddox’s magic. This wasn’t from an earth witch. And it went without saying that it couldn’t possibly have been sent by Moon. The former blood witch turned vampire with the occasional toe dipped into necromancy had a grumpy vampire boyfriend who didn’t want him casting spells at all.
If anything, the magic felt vaguely familiar, which meant the tree could have come from only one place—the Underworld.
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure this is from Zalramon.”
“Sky! It’s creepy!”
“Nolan! The king of the underworld sent me a gift. I don’t want to piss him off by rejecting it.”
Nolan’s pale face twisted up as if he were in pain. “But it can stay outside, right?”
“I don’t think so. It seems like it really wants to come inside.” Sky made the mistake of looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. The Yule tree darted forward, brushing past Sky to squeeze into the house. Nolan screeched, and Sky jumped aside in surprise.
“Fast little bugger,” he mumbled, watching it thump and scuttle through the house. It moved from room to room on the first floor as if it were searching for something. The thing was stunningly nimble, lurching here and there without knocking into anything or breaking a single knickknack.
“What’s it doing?” Nolan whispered. He’d edged closer to Sky to watch the tree from a distance.
“I think it’s searching for a place to settle.”
“And then what?”
Sky shrugged. “Nothing.”
“What? That’s it? The thing just lives in the house now?” Panic was creeping into his voice again.
“No, think of it as a live Christmas tree. We’ll put out a pan of water for it, decorate it with ornaments and tiny white lights, and on January first, it’ll scuttle off to where it lives.” Sky paused and cocked his head to the side. “However, I wouldn’t mind if it decided to live in my backyard.”
“Sky!” Nolan gasped.
“What? It would be damned convenient. It would scamper into the house on December first and scamper out to the yard on January first. Think of all the time and money we’d save on cutting down trees or putting up a fake one.”
“You’re insane.”
Sky laughed and gave his boyfriend a shove toward the kitchen. “Go fill the big blue roasting pan with distilled water from the fridge. I’m going to the basement to find a box of Christmas decorations.”
“I’m not going near it without you in the room!” Nolan shouted as he walked to the kitchen.
Sky snickered. “It’s a tree. They don’t have teeth.”
“Sky…don’t!”
Naturally, the necromancer completely ignored Nolan’s warning tone. “Come on! You know it’s all bark, no bite!”
“There’s a special place in Hell for people like you,” Nolan muttered.
“Yes, yes, and we’ll all be sipping mai tais and having a wonderful time, I’m sure,” Sky replied.
While Nolan was preparing the water for the Yule tree, Sky dug out a box of lights and another box of ornaments. It was too late in the evening to decorate the entire house—that job took at least six hours to do properly—but they could at least get the tree decorated. Maybe if it were twinkling with white fairy lights and shining with pretty red and gold ornaments, Nolan wouldn’t be so scared of it.
When he returned, Sky coaxed Nolan into helping him move some of the furniture so they could set up a nice open area for the Yule tree by the front window. As soon as the spot was open, the tree scrambled over and put several of its roots into the pan of water. The tree shuddered once, as if shaking out its weary limbs, and sank a few inches, settling in.
Since it wasn’t a typical pine tree, it wasn’t easy to cover in lights or hang ornaments from its limbs, but after nearly an hour of steady work, Sky got it decorated and glowing nicely. Nolan refused to touch the tree, but he was willing to at least hold the lights and hand Sky decorations.
Exhaustion sank into their bones as they finally finished getting the tree decorated and settled in its corner of the living room. The BL show they’d been attempting to watch was forgotten, and the only thing that sounded good was bed.
“I’m heading up. You coming?” Nolan said as he retreated from the tree, refusing to turn his back on it.
“Yes!” Sky bounced to Nolan and wrapped his arms around his waist. “We can pick up where we left off.”
“If you think you’re getting lucky with that thing in the house, you’ve lost your damn mind.”
“Oh, Mr. Banks, I think you’re underestimating my powers of seduction.”
“And I think you’re underestimating how creepy that tree is.”
Sky pulled his boyfriend toward the stairs. “It’s fine. We’ve got the tree plugged into the wall, and there’s a cover for the water pan. It’s not going to cause any trouble. What is there to worry about?”
Saving Mr. Bell by HL Day
Chapter One
Rudolf
I turned my head, the bright lights of the nightclub making me blink and reminding me of being on stage. Of sitting there frozen while thousands of people stared at me expectantly. Waiting… Wondering… Trying to work out what was going on with the man they’d paid an exorbitant amount to see.
No! I wasn’t going there. Not tonight.More booze. That was what I needed. Enough to stop me from remembering how badly I’d fucked up a few weeks ago. I’d thought I was drunk, but apparently I wasn’t drunk enough.
Once I reached the closest bar, I slammed my hand down on it, the noise satisfying enough to make me laugh. “Another drink,” I demanded of no one in particular. Fingers hooked around my left biceps to tug me away from the bar, but I planted my feet and refused to be moved. When they didn’t let go, I turned to face whoever was manhandling me.
I’d expected to find Nelson, my bodyguard, but where Nelson was tall, muscular, and wider than any man had a right to be, this guy was thin and willowy, and looked like a strong breeze might blow him over if he wasn’t careful. He had a piercing through his eyebrow and another through his nose, the glint of light from the nose ring momentarily hypnotizing me before I snapped out of it.
“I think you’ve had enough,” Mr. Thin and Willowy said, his brow creased with a concern that seemed unwarranted when I didn’t know who he was.
“Yeah? Well… I don’t.” I flicked my arm hard enough that he had no choice but to let go. Where was Nelson? Why wasn’t he telling this guy to back off? Oh, that’s right. I’d given him the slip at the hotel. I’d pretended to take an early night and then snuck out. “And I don’t know who you are to be telling me what I can and can’t do.”
Hurt immediately blossomed on the guy’s face, extreme enough for guilt to filter through the alcohol. Fuck! Had I spent last night with him? I struggled to recall the previous night, brief snatches coming back to me. Someone’s house. A private party. This guy’s? So much booze and drugs on offer that I couldn’t even remember leaving, never mind what had happened in the hours before my departure. To say it was a blur would be an understatement. If I’d had sex, I’d topped, the lack of any soreness telling me that even if my memory couldn’t.
“Owen,” the guy said, the name meaning nothing to me. If something had happened between us, I either hadn’t known his name or I’d consigned it to the list of things that weren’t important. Which was pretty much everything, more things joining the list with every day that passed.
“Owen,” I said. “Right. Course. I knew that.” I turned back to the bar. “I get to decide when I’ve had enough. No one else. Not you. Not my father. Not even Father bloody Christmas. He can put me on the naughty list for all I care. I think I’ll cope.” I laughed, turning back to see if Owen appreciated the joke. He wasn’t there, nothing but a space where he’d been standing. It didn’t last long, spaces close to the bar as much in demand in this nightclub as they were in any.
I caught the barman’s eye, my wink doing exactly what I intended, and making him bypass whoever should have been next to serve me instead. “A double vodka and Coke,” I requested, “and whatever you’re having.” I fumbled in my pocket for a note, handing it over without bothering to look at what denomination it was, and with little regard for whether I got change. That was one advantage to being famous and the riches that came with it.
I drank my double vodka at the bar and then asked for another. Or maybe it was two. Fuck knows. I sure as hell didn’t. The next two hours were a blur of more booze, dancing—where I had no shortage of willing partners cozying up to me—and conversations that made little sense while I was having them, and that I already knew I wouldn’t recall a single word of the following day.
When the lights came on to signal the end of the evening, I swore. How was it that time already? “Come back to my place,” an accented voice urged. “We can carry the party on there. I have plenty of drink, some drugs, and…” His voice took on a distinctive flirtatious note. “Something else you might be interested in.”
The something else was presumably his cock. I squinted up at him, my drunkenness having reached a level where all his features swam together. It was difficult to get excited at the thought of having sex with someone you couldn’t see properly. “Thanks, but no thanks.” I staggered back a few steps, apologizing when I bumped into someone. I ricocheted off them and into someone else, and then into a Christmas tree. Perhaps I’d had a little too much to drink. Perhaps.
“Rudolf, come back. I’ll call you a cab. Make sure you get safely back to the hotel.”
Same accented voice. What country was I in, anyway? Japan? No, that had been last week. Something beginning with an A. Australia? Azerbaijan? The fucking Antarctic. Probably not the latter. I didn’t think there were many nightclubs there. At least I hoped we weren’t in the Antarctic because I was in for a very rude and very cold surprise once I found my way out of this nightclub, if so. I found a cloakroom ticket in my pocket, leaning gratefully against the wall for support while the attendant went to find my coat.
She was back within a couple of minutes. I struggled into my coat, glad to find that non-drunken me had teamed it with gloves, a scarf and a beanie hat. My luck held when I located my phone in the pocket. I pulled it out, drunkenness rendering the task more difficult than it needed to be as I scrolled through my contacts to find the number I needed. There were missed calls, but I didn’t bother to look who they’d been from.
She answered on the third ring. “Rudolf?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” I slurred.
“Where are you? Nelson says you’re not at the hotel.”
“Not his fault,” I said charitably. “Gave him the slip. Wanted to be on my own for a few hours.”
My manager let out a sigh worthy of any soap opera. My father had hired Jade Turner because she had a reputation for running a tight ship and didn’t suffer fools gladly. Unfortunately, I seemed to be one of those fools. My father had hired everyone involved in my daily routine. Nelson. Jade. My publicist. My driver. My personal assistant. My hairdresser. The list went on and on. “Rudolf, we’ve talked about this time and time again. You can’t just take yourself off whenever you feel like it. It’s not safe. Nelson’s your bodyguard for a reason, and you need to use him as such.”
I closed my eyes against the lecture I’d heard before. “Yeah, yeah,” I said.
“I presume you’re drunk?”
I laughed at the censorious note in her voice. “As. A. Skunk.”
“Tell me there’s no press there.”
“Don’t think so.”
“Where are you?”
“At a club.”
“What club?” I shrugged before realizing she couldn’t see it. “Dunno. I don’t even know what country I’m in.”
“Austria, Rudolf. You’re in Austria. You’ve been in Austria for three days. You were meant to take part in a charity concert, remember? Only, after what happened in Germany, we had to tell everyone you were ill. A story which isn’t holding any weight because you’ve done nothing but get pissed and high since then.”
“Right… Austria. I knew that.”
“You can’t keep screwing up like this. We need to sit down and discuss which rehab facility would be best—”
“I’m not going to rehab!”
“I don’t see any alternative. You can’t go on like this. There’s only so many times I can do damage limitation before your name becomes mud and no one will touch you.”
“I’m. Not. Going. To. Rehab.”
“I’ll talk to your father. See what he has to say about it.”
I closed my eyes against the wave of fatigue washing over me. My father would say yes. He and Jade always agreed, and I didn’t get a say, even though it was my life. It had been the same for years. In his eyes, he’d shaped me; he’d hired all the best music teachers; he’d surrounded me with all the things I needed to be an enormous success.
In my eyes, it was a cage. One I couldn’t escape from. All I could do was numb myself against it by whatever means necessary. Drink. Drugs. Sex. None of it helped. Because the merry-go-round my life had become was still there waiting for me when I came out the other side.
“Rudolf!” The sharpness in Jade’s voice told me it wasn’t the first time she’d said my name.
I sighed. “I just need a car to take me back to the hotel. That’s why I called.”
“I can’t send one if I don’t know where to send it, can I? I need something from you, Rudolf. A clue where you are. A smoke signal. Carrier pigeon. Something.”
Snarky bitch.I focused on the neon sign across from me, the letters blurring together until I finally deciphered them, the process giving me a headache. “Lugeck-Alm.” No doubt I’d butchered the pronunciation. Thankfully, she didn’t ask me to spell it or I’d probably have gone for F-U-C-K Y-O-U.
“It’s on its way,” she said after a slight pause. “It’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes sounded good to me. Spotting the restroom, I headed that way, my bladder reminding me that even the most enthusiastic of dancers couldn’t sweat out all the vodka.
“What’s that noise?” Jade asked.
“I’m taking a piss,” I answered honestly.
“Lovely.”
“Don’t ask if you don’t want to know the answer.” I left a pause, enjoying the release it gave me to empty my bladder and knowing she wouldn’t hang up. “How much do I pay you?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I just figure it’s enough that you can put up with this.”
“You don’t pay me. Your father does.”
The surge of anger was immediate. “It’s my money,” I gritted out.
“There’s no point in trying to reason with you when you’re drunk. We’ll talk tomorrow.” And then, as if to prove I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did, she did hang up, leaving me glaring at my phone.
The cold when I spilled out onto the street was biting. It might as well have been the Arctic. Or the Antarctic. Whichever one we were closer to, my geographical knowledge not the best even without the vodka sloshing around in my system. Even more jarring than the cold, though, was the immediate flash of cameras, the burst of light bright enough that I lifted my hand to shade my eyes.
Never had the sight of the car idling at the curb been a more welcome sight, and no doubt Jade—and Veronica, my publicist—would thank me for giving the paparazzi as few drunken pictures as I could manage. At least none of them tried to talk to me, as I almost skidded across the pavement and threw myself into the back of the car.
“Drive,” I said as soon as the door closed. “Get me the fuck out of here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Something about the way those words were said was off, but I was too busy watching the reporters get smaller in the rearview mirror to give it much more than a passing thought. I relaxed back against the seat, my hangover already making itself known.
“Seatbelt,” the driver demanded.
I rolled my eyes as I pulled it across my chest and clicked it into place. I guess it was understandable that he didn’t want to be immortalized as the driver who killed Rudolf Bell should we crash. I’d give him that one. Even if I did it with attitude. I stared at the back of his head, the light too dim for me to make out his face in the rearview mirror. Back in London, I had Gustav as a driver, my father having vetted him to make sure that the riskiest thing about him was how overgrown his mustache got.
In Austria—now that Jade had reminded me where I was—I’d had the same driver for the entire trip. A man named Dagobert. Dagobert might have long since left his bodybuilding career behind, but there was no getting rid of the tree-trunk like neck it had left him with. This man did not have a neck like a tree trunk. Ergo, he wasn’t Dagobert. See, who needed to be sober for critical thinking? Not me.
Considering it was late, I surmised Dagobert was required elsewhere. I hadn’t asked him whether he had a wife or kids, because I’d be moving on soon. Different day. Different country. So what was the point? But he probably had, so it stood to reason he was needed at home. No need to let my imagination run away with me. If I remembered rightly now I was sobering up, it was less than a fifteen-minute trip to the hotel. I’d be tucked up in bed in twenty minutes. Alone. Probably wishing I had picked someone up from the club. “Was Dagobert not available tonight?”
“Na.”
Austrian German for no. There was no point in asking the guy more if he didn’t speak English. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. When my internal body clock said that close to fifteen minutes had passed, I opened them, expecting to see the bright lights of the district where I’d been staying. My phone rang as I stared out at the encroaching darkness and I pulled it to my ear.
“Where are you, Rudolf? I thought I could at least trust you to get in the car once I sent it. Let me guess, someone threw themselves at you and you just had to go home with them and never thought to inform me?”
Jade. An even more pissed than usual Jade. “I’m in the car.”
“No, you’re not. I’ve had Dagobert hassling me for the last ten minutes. He has a home to go to, you know. He can’t spend all night sitting in front of a nightclub. Not to mention that he’s currently being paid for not driving you. Your father and I were just discussing how to get you to cut down on unnecessary expenses. How I’m supposed to do that, I haven’t got a clue.”
“By sending me to rehab, presumably.”
“Yeah, that.” Jade gave a bitter laugh. “So… just tell me where you are and I’ll send Dagobert to come pick you up.”
“I told you where I am. I’m in the car.”
“What car?”
I didn’t like the confusion in Jade’s voice. It made my palms sweat and my heart race. When you were in the public eye, you always knew you could have a target on your back. That’s why I had a bodyguard. A bodyguard I’d left back in the hotel.
“Rudolf, you’re worrying me.”
Yeah, I was worrying myself. Just who the fuck was I in a car with? And why hadn’t I at least checked when I got in that Jade had sent him? Could I be any more of a fuckup?
I surreptitiously wrapped my fingers around the door handle and tugged.
Locked. Although, what I thought I was going to do if it hadn’t been, I wasn’t sure. Would I really have done a kamikaze roll out of the car? And then what? Run off into the freezing cold? Being kidnapped and ransomed wasn’t my idea of fun, but neither was dying of exposure.
“Hang up the phone.”
I jerked my gaze to the rearview mirror to find eyes on me. No Austrian accent this time. English all the way. Did that make it better or worse? “Jade, you need to call the—”
The car lurched to so sudden a stop that it threw me against the front seat, the impact enough to wind me even with the seatbelt on. I was still shaking my head and trying to work out whether I had a concussion when the phone was snatched out of my hand. Had Jade heard enough to raise the alarm? Probably not. Which meant no one would likely miss me for a few more hours, leaving me at the mercy of some stranger who wanted God knows what. And he hadn’t even had to try that hard to kidnap me. I’d volunteered myself. Fucking idiot.
Just Dance by AJ Llewellyn
“It’s a bit bland.” Tiernan O’Rourke pushed the artfully piled lump of meat around the plate with his fork. This had been the most unusual experience of his life, taste-testing stacks of meat with varying degrees of flavor. This could really use some salt and pepper. It was his sixth sampling so far today. He hoped it would be the last.
He glanced out of the window, but the view of the red brick wall from the building next door hadn’t changed. From somewhere outside, jackhammers pierced the silence.
He was starting to feel claustrophobic. As he focused his gaze once again on the food in front of him, he couldn’t help thinking of the song, Somewhere That’s Green from The Little Shop of Horrors.
Tiernan glanced at the three chefs awaiting his response. How did they work all day without a glimpse of the sky or something a little bit green? Maybe New Yorkers got used to it. He longed for his old view... His old life.
Ugh.
Quit stalling. Man up. He mentally patted his belly. He already had a bad stomachache from the food samples he’d tested so far. I don’t think I can face this. He took a deep, cleansing breath. I have to do it. Another bite. “Okay. I like the pop of carrots and peas.” He let the food tumble around his tongue, aware of the sharp scrutiny of the kitchen staff. “And the sweet potato is a nice surprise.” He swallowed, hoping he could keep a pleasant expression on his face.
“What else?” Matthew Croft, the lead chef, stared at him.
Tiernan blinked. What else? “There’s um, apple in it, I think. Ah. I like it.”
A long but significant pause.
The taste tester sitting beside Tiernan shifted in her seat. Harsha Zhu was bright, bubbly, and super annoying with her blue-hued hair and her knowledgeable critiques. Not to mention her insane giggle at inappropriate moments. Tiernan had pegged her as a sociopath, despite the chefs’ apparent awe of her.
With a disdainful sneer in his direction, Harsha said, “The textures are there, and I think it’s extraordinary how you’ve managed to blend blueberries and chicken this way. The fruit and vegetables have been cooked to perfection, yet each retains its flavor.”
Tiernan stared at her. Wow. She’s good. She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about. I have to memorize that authoritative way she describes a lump of meat, in case I have to do this again.
“But do you think a dog would like it?” Matthew flicked glances at them, an icy tinge in his voice.
Tiernan forced a smile on his face even as he experienced a moment of pure panic. Why are you asking me that? How the heck would I know? Harsha seemed to sag on her stool.
When she didn’t respond, Tiernan jumped in. “If I were a dog, I would love it.”
“It’s my favorite, too,” Harsha piped up.
Tiernan glanced at her. The kitchen staff had all been in wonderment of the small but fierce Asian woman they told him in reverent whispers was an Instagram influencer. Did dogs rely on influencers? As far as Tiernan could tell, dogs were swayed by a bowl of edible food. And edible was in the eye of the beholder. He’d never heard of a single dog that checked with Internet strangers to tell them something was good to eat. He thought with a pang of his childhood dog, Sparky, who ate everything from socks to rolls of quarters.
“One more sample,” Matthew said.
Even Harsha couldn’t hide her dismay.
“Oh,” she said as though the wind had sunk her sails. Then she giggled once more.
“This is the last one, honest. You guys are doing great.” Matthew signaled, and a young female sous chef—who looked stressed—rushed forward and exchanged dishes.
Tiernan stared at the dark mound of mush in front of him. Dog food? Huh. That was human-grade food we’ve been testing. Needed seasoning, but still... I’m going to get a dog again one day. If Fanta lets me bring one home. The thought of his orange tabby cat waiting for him curled up on their shared bed made him dip his fork into the final plate of meat set before him.
He took a healthy bite. This one had a bit of a zing to it. Sort of slimy. Overcooked. Could he say that? Would he offend the chefs? No. He wouldn’t accuse them of overcooking food. The sample had gravy, which was an improvement on the lackluster offerings so far. He glanced over at Harsha, who was scraping at her mountain of food. She took a bite.
“It’s so good I want to take it home and finish it,” Tiernan lied, earning a round of applause from the chefs.
Harsha spat her mouthful into the small dish beside her. Tiernan realized only then she’d been spitting out her food the whole time.
“Me too.” She smiled, revealing a mouth with gold teeth.
Grillz. Holy moly. Were they still in fashion?
“You spat it out,” Tiernan couldn’t resist pointing out.
She patted her mouth with one of the starched napkins the staff had provided. “Of course, I did. You know that last sample was actual dog food, right?” She smacked her lips together. “Alpo, I think.”
The chefs roared with laughter and applauded her.
“You’re always amazing, Harsha.” Matthew beamed at her, glancing over at Tiernan. “You okay, guy? You did eat a big chunk of it.”
“Fine, just fine.” Tiernan waved off the chef’s words but really wanted to scream and barf. I just ate dog food. And I said I loved it!
“That’s it, guys. You did great. We’ll be sending out your checks today. And if we need you again, we’ll be in touch.” Matthew slid his face mask up and over his nose and mouth and pointed toward the elevator.
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.
My characters are sexy, hot, adorable—and often filthy—alphas and omegas. Feudal lords with dark secrets, lonely omegas running away from their past, and alphas who refuse to commit.
Lurking in the background are kings, mafia dons, undercover agents and highwaymen with a naughty gleam in their eye.
As for me? I dictate my steamy stories with a glass of champagne in one hand. Because why not?
New York Times Bestselling author Jocelynn Drake loves a good story, whether she is reading it or writing one of her own. Over the years, her stories have allowed her to explore space, talk to dragons, dodge bullets with assassins, hang with vampires, and fall in love again and again.
This former Kentucky girl has moved up, down, and across the U.S. with her husband. Recently, they’ve settled near the Rockies.
When she is not hammering away at her keyboard or curled up with a book, she can be found walking her dog Ace, or playing video games. She loves Bruce Wayne, Ezio Auditore, travel, tattoos, explosions, and fast cars.
She is the author of the urban fantasy series: The Dark Days series and the Asylum Tales. She has recently completed a gay romantic suspense series called The Exit Strategy about two assassins falling in love and trying to create a life together, as well as a MM paranormal romance series featuring a family of vampires.
She has co-authored with Rinda Elliot the following series: Unbreakable Bonds, Ward Security, Pineapple Grove, and the Weavers Circle. She has also co-authored with AJ Sherwood the Scales 'N Spells dragon series.
HL DayH.L Day grew up in the North of England. As a child she was an avid reader, spending lots of time at the local library or escaping into the imaginary worlds created by the books she read. Her grandmother first introduced her to the genre of romance novels, as a teenager, and all the steamy sex they entailed. Naughty Grandma! Romance novels were forgotten for a while when real life got in the way: university, clubbing, work, moving to London, and more work.
When life settled down (slightly) H.L Day stumbled upon the world of m/m romance. She remained content to read other people’s books for a while, before deciding to give it a go herself.
Now, she’s a teacher by day and a writer by night. Actually, that’s not quite true—she’s a teacher by day, procrastinates about writing at night and writes in the school holidays, when she’s not continuing to procrastinate. After all, there’s books to read, places to go, people to see, the gym to visit, films to watch. So many things to do—so few hours to do it in. Every now and again, she musters enough self-discipline to actually get some words onto paper—sometimes they even make sense and are in the right order.
When life settled down (slightly) H.L Day stumbled upon the world of m/m romance. She remained content to read other people’s books for a while, before deciding to give it a go herself.
Now, she’s a teacher by day and a writer by night. Actually, that’s not quite true—she’s a teacher by day, procrastinates about writing at night and writes in the school holidays, when she’s not continuing to procrastinate. After all, there’s books to read, places to go, people to see, the gym to visit, films to watch. So many things to do—so few hours to do it in. Every now and again, she musters enough self-discipline to actually get some words onto paper—sometimes they even make sense and are in the right order.
AJ LlewellynA.J. Llewellyn lives in California, but dreams of living in Hawaii. Frequent trips to all the islands, bags of Kona coffee in the fridge and a healthy collection of Hawaiian records keep this writer refueled.
A.J's passion for the islands led to writing a play about the overthrow of Queen Lili'uokalani's kingdom.
A.J. never lacks inspiration for writing erotic romances but has many other passions: collecting books on Hawaiiana, surfing and spending time with family, friends and animal companions.
A.J. Llewellyn believes that love is a song best sung out loud.
Colbie Dunbar
The Bodyguard's Christmas Surprise by Jena Wade
Moonbeams & Mistletoe by Colbie Dunbar
The Necromancer's Christmas Tree of Terror by Jocelynn Drake
KOBO / iTUNES / SMASHWORDS
Saving Mr. Bell by HL Day
Just Dance by AJ Llewellyn
