Monday, January 5, 2026

πŸŽ…πŸŽ„11th Day of Christmas Author SpotlightπŸŽ„πŸŽ…: HL Day




HL Day
H.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.



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Deader than Dead
Summary:
Paranormal Problems #1
Even death can’t stop fate.

Professional thief, Bellamy, might have bitten off more than he can chew this time. Jobs have gone wrong before, but never this wrong. His moral code might be grayer than most, but it exists, and he finds himself facing an impossible choice that could cost him everything.

Necromancer, John Averill’s day just got ten times worse. One more job, his boss says. Well, that job sucks, because not only does he find himself with a gun pointed at his head, but the man he’s been hired to raise temporarily from the dead is none other than his fated mate… the man he’s been searching for all his life.

Their love story is over before it ever began. Or is it? Fate still has a few tricks up its sleeve, and the impossible might just become possible.

Deader than Dead is a 57k Fated Mates MM paranormal novel featuring villains who will stop at nothing to get what they want, a stolen artifact, kidnapping, betrayal, lies, and two men determined to overcome death itself to be together.

Content warning for death and mention of suicide.

Please note that this is a revised version of a novella first published in the Fated Mates charity anthology. The story is now dual POV with 28k of added content. There have been some small changes to the story.






Saving Mr. Bell
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.







Right Place, Right Time
Summary:
The Pilsdale Chronicles #1
Sometimes the path to true love twists so much that you end up right back where you started.

Ben Sutcliffe’s teenage crush on his best friend’s dad burned hotter than a forest fire. Jasper Bennet was sexy, kind, and caring—the perfect man. He was also straight and off-limits. The wrong man at the wrong time. So when tragedy sent Ben running for the hills, he never looked back… until now.

The sleepy village of Pilsdale is exactly how Ben remembers it, and so is Jasper. Only this time, there’s a glint in Jasper’s eye that says Ben might not have known everything about him.

The key to overcoming Ben’s past can be found in Jasper’s arms. But he can’t stay. He has a whole life waiting for him outside Pilsdale. But the longer he stays, the more he thinks it’s finally the right time to be with the right man.

Right Place, Right Time is a low angst contemporary, small town, best friend’s dad, age gap, M/M romance. It features a main character who had good taste even as a teenager, a main character who always puts others first to his own detriment, an animal sanctuary, not-so-secret admirers, meddling villagers, a massage or three, and a sprinkling of humor.







Time for a Change
Summary:
What if the last thing you want, might be the very thing you need?

Stuffy and uptight accountant Michael’s life is exactly the way he likes it: ordered, routine and risk-free. He doesn’t need chaos and he doesn’t need anything shaking it up and causing him anxiety. The only blot on the horizon is the small matter of getting his ex-boyfriend Christian back. That’s exactly the type of man Michael goes for: cultured, suave and sophisticated.

Coffee shop employee, Sam, Is none of those things. He’s a ball of energy and happiness who thinks nothing of flaunting his half-naked muscular body and devastating smile in front of Michael when he’s trying to work. He knows what he wants—and that’s Michael. And no matter how much Michael tries to resist him, he’s not going to take no for an answer.

Sam eventually chips through Michael’s barriers and straight into his bed. But Michael’s already made some questionable decisions that might just come back to haunt him. He’s got some difficult choices to make if he’s ever going to find love. And he might just find that he’s too set in his ways to make the right ones quickly enough. If Michael’s not careful, the best thing that’s ever happened to him might just slip right through his fingers. Because even a patient man like Sam has his limits.







Scoring Points
Summary:
Lights Out
Can two warring team principals in the cutthroat world of F1 ever admit that there’s more to life than scoring points?

On the surface, Kurt Whitford has everything. A successful business. Good looks. Money. A famous popstar girlfriend hanging off his arm. And as the icing on the cake, he’s just been announced as Nebula’s new team principal. The downside? The opposition. It's seventeen years since Kurt has seen the infuriating and irresistible Gio Rossi, but the man hasn't changed a bit.

Whatever Kurt Whitford has, Giovanni Rossi can surpass. Well, except for the girlfriend. Despite needing to keep his sexuality on the down low, he’s not that far in the closet. And if Kurt thinks that Gio’s ready to let bygones be bygones, he couldn’t be more wrong. Gio hasn’t forgiven. Or forgotten.

As a long-rooted rivalry kicks off once more and sparks fly both on and off the track, can Gio and Kurt go head-to-head without the media getting wind of their true feelings? Or is their undeniable sexual chemistry about to prove their downfall?

This MM romance from H.L Day features enemies to lovers, opposing teams, secrets that go way back, and suppressed feelings. Set in the high-octane world of Formula 1, it features fast cars, spectacular crashes, heated rivalries, and of course, a HEA.

Each book in the Lights Out collection is a standalone story, and the books can be read in any order.





Deader than Dead

Saving Mr. Bell

Right Place, Right Time

Time for a Change

Scoring Points


πŸŽ…πŸŽ„Monday's Mysterious MayhemπŸŽ„πŸŽ…: The Savage Son by Frank W Butterfield




Summary:

Nick Williams Mystery #6
Tuesday, December 15, 1953

Ivan Kopek is missing and his parents desperately want Nick's help. Ike, as he's known to his friends, is quickly found once Nick, Carter, and their pals are on the case. Unfortunately, Ike's in jail for a murder he didn't commit. And it was only because he didn't get the chance to do it himself.

Meanwhile, it's almost Christmas. Nick's least favorite time of the year.

But, Carter wants a Christmas tree and Dr. Parnell Williams, Nick's evil bastard of a father, has summoned them both to the mansion on Sacramento Street for Christmas day at 12 noon. And they're not to be late.

In the end, Christmas brings Nick & Carter a number of unexpected and life-changing packages, both big and small.



Original Review July 2024:
As it's Xmas in July I was in a holiday reading mood so i skipped ahead a couple of entries and read The Savage Son, the sixth entry in Frank W Butterfield's Nick Williams Mystery series.  I want to start by saying as it was when I read #14 The Pitiful Player for my Oscar reads I wasn't lost but I could tell a few things that happened in entries #4 & #5 were still very fresh in Nick and Carter's minds but because of both inner and outer convos I knew enough info for context and yet not enough was retold to spoil going back(which I will over the next few weeks).

Now that I mentioned that, on to The Savage Son.

Carter wants Christmas and all the trimmings, the very things he's went without since meeting Nick as he knew Nick wasn't a fan but this year he wanted it.  With some moments of secrecy not often displayed between the couple, Carter gets his Xmas but will it change Nick's thoughts on the holiday?  Well I think you all know my answer to that: you have to read to find outπŸ˜‰.

The mystery is so brilliantly weaved throughout with many possible outcomes that before I knew it, the book was over and I was kicking myself for not slowing my pace to make the enjoyment linger.  To me that feeling says it all and the epitome of reading greatness.  Ivan has gone missing and his parents come to Nick to find him.  Sounds simple, sounds straightforward but as we all know in the land of fiction, missing is rarely simple and even rarer to stay at just a missing person.  So many twists and turns kept me guessing till nearly the reveal.

Now besides the "main" mystery, there is another unanswered scenario that Nick and Carter find before them.  Nick's not-so-favored father, Dr. Parnell Williams, summoning both(and the inclusion of Carter adds even more ??? to the equation) men to his home on Christmas Day at Noon.  I can't lie, having read the N&C Holiday short story series I maybe should have picked up on this sooner but I didn't and it knocked me sideways for a moment or two before smacking my head and saying "how did I miss that?".

I don't want to give too much away so I'll end it here but The Savage Son is a brilliant mystery, wonderful established couple romance, with friendships-turned-found-family at every corner, and it somehow manages to embody everything a Christmas tale should: heart.  Savage Son may not fit the Hallmark-style holiday fare but it's definitely a delicious holiday treat.

RATING:




Chapter 1 
Offices of Consolidated Security
777 Bush Street, 3rd Floor
San Francisco, Cal.
Tuesday, December 15, 1953
Just before 10 in the morning 
I sat at my desk and stared off into space. The day was chilly, and I was glad I hadn't taken off my coat when I walked into the office. I tried to read the letters on my desk, but nothing was getting through. 

Carter Jones, my tall, muscled, ex-fireman of a husband was mad at me. We'd had a fight the night before, and I ended up sleeping in the front bedroom. I wanted to invite his mother to town for Christmas, and he didn't. Somehow, in the heat of it all, the argument became a repeat of a standing disagreement we had about my father. I was still simmering. And I was hurt. And I didn't like sleeping alone. 

Over breakfast, we were cool. He kissed me once we were in the car. But we were quiet on the drive to the office. He dropped me off and Carlo Martinelli, one of our co-workers, got in and the two of them headed north across the Golden Gate Bridge to the small town of Novato.

They were going up there to meet a deputy sheriff and to look over the remains of a suspicious house fire. Consolidated Security, the company we'd founded back in the summer, offered help to local towns and villages with investigations, including arson. Carter and Martinelli had been firemen together in San Francisco at Station 3 before they'd been fired in May for associating with a known homosexual, myself to be precise. 

I was still in reverie when I heard Marnie, the best secretary a guy ever had, knock on my office door. 

"Nick!" 

"What, doll?" 

"Where are you?" 

"I'm just thinking. What's up?" 

"Don't forget you got a 10 o'clock today." 

I nodded. "Right. Thanks for the reminder. You got any coffee for me?" 

"Sure." She walked over to the side of the front office. I could hear her as she poured the coffee from the percolator and stirred in a couple of sugar cubes. 

She walked through the office door, handed over the cup, and stood there looking at me. 

"What?" 

"You gonna tell me what's really goin' on?" 

I took a sip of my coffee, stalling for time. Right then, the front door opened.

Marnie gave me the eye, turned, and walked over to greet the visitor. I heard a few murmurs and then watched as a middle-aged man, about 5'9" tall with gray hair, light blue eyes, and a strong jawline, walked into my office. He was dressed in an everyday suit of clothes that had seen better days but was neat and pressed. 

I stood up. "Mr. Kopek?" 

The man nodded, hat in hand. "Yes." He didn't look like he wanted to shake, so I didn't offer. 

"I'm Nick Williams. Have a seat." 

"Thank you." 

His speech was clipped, and his accent sounded German or maybe from someplace east of Germany. As he sat down, he took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. Instead of putting it back in his pocket, he held it in his hand as if he was expecting to need it again. 

"So, how can I help you?" 

"It's my son." 

I nodded. I preferred to ask as few questions as possible and let the client do all the talking. 

"He's missing." 

I waited. 

"And I want you to find him for me." He paused. "Please." His voice was quiet but desperate. 

"Have you notified the police?"

"No! No police!" 

"Why not?" 

"Well, you see—" He stopped and looked around. "He, my son, he is like you. And, I don't want the police to be involved. I don't want him to go to jail." 

I nodded. "When you say he's like me, do you mean that he's a homosexual?" 

The man wiped his face again. "Yes." 

"Can you describe your son?" I pulled out a pad and a pencil. 

"He's a good boy, Mr. Williams." 

I smiled. "I'm sure he is. But, what does he look like?" 

"Oh, yes. Well, he is six feet tall and he weighs one hundred and eighty pounds. More or less. Probably more now. He is, how do you call it?" He thought for a moment. "He is a weight builder?" 

"He lifts weights?" 

"Yes, that is it. He lifts weights."

 "How old is he?" 

"He is 23 a week ago." The man's face clouded over. 

I waited for about half a minute while Mr. Kopek tried not to cry. I pulled out a package of Camels and offered one to the man. He took it. 

"Thank you." He reached into his coat, pulled out a box of matches, and lit his own cigarette. I did the same with my old beat-up Zippo. 

After we'd both taken a deep drag, he said, "My son disappeared the day of his birthday. He had been with me at the store in the early morning, helping me with the plumbing and, when we finished, he said he was going to meet his friend." The man paused. "I think it is his special friend." 

I nodded and waited. 

"When he did not come home the next day, my wife and me, we did not know what to think. We waited until the noon and then we decided to go visit his other friend, the special friend from before, that we knew where he worked. But he did not know anything." Mr. Kopek shook his head slowly as he took another drag on his cigarette. 

I asked, "And you haven't heard anything since?" 

"No. Nothing." 

"What is the name of the friend you went to see?" 

"He is Randy Robbins. He works at Ernie's. Do you know it? Very expensive." 

I nodded. Carter had taken me to Ernie's the night before Halloween. It had been a wonderful evening, full of champagne and laughter. Or, at least that's the little I could remember. It was all a blur. A very pleasant blur. 

Snapping back to the present, I asked, "And, do you know the name of his friend, the one he was going to meet?" 

"No. My wife, she thinks this is so, but I do not know the name." 

"Where does your son work?" 

"He drives a truck. For the newspaper." 

"Which one?" 

"The Call-Bulletin."

"Is he in the Teamsters?" 

"Yes!" Mr. Kopek smiled with pride. 

"What does his face look like?" 

"He has yellow hair." 

"Blond?" 

"Yes, blond. His eyes are green, like his mother." 

"Any scars?" 

"Yes, one." He pointed. "On his chin." 

"Is it small or large?" 

"It is small. When we left Czechoslovakia, he was five years old. The day we left, he tripped and fell on the stones on the street." 

"Are you Czechoslovakian?" 

"No. There is no such thing. There are Czechs, and there are Slovaks. And then there are Poles. And that is what Kopek is: Polish. We are from Silesia, the Polish part of Czechoslovakia." 

"And you left before the Germans took over?" 

"Yes. We knew it was coming. We came to New York in 1935. And then, my cousin, he lived here, and he invited us to San Francisco." 

I nodded. "Where do you and your wife live?" 

"We are at 335 Turk Street. Apartment 5-R." 

I wrote down the address and kept a straight face. That was one of the apartment buildings I happened to own.

"How did you find out about Consolidated Security?" 

Mr. Kopek shrugged. "I... well... my wife. She knew about you from Ivan." 

"And Ivan is your son?" 

"Yes. But his friends call him Ike. Like the President." Mr. Kopek smiled broadly. 

"How did your son know about us?" 

"He has all the, how do you say?" He paused for a moment. Using his hands to demonstrate, he said, "He takes the scissors, and he cuts the newspaper." 

"He collects clippings from the paper?" 

Mr. Kopek nodded. "Yes, that is it. He has the clippings in a book. The famous and wealthy Nicholas Williams. He has many clippings of you and—" He looked away and wiped his face again with his handkerchief. "You and the other one." 

"Carter Jones?" 

"Yes. Mr. Jones." 

I nodded. That made me think of something. "When your son is lifting weights, does he do that at home?" 

Mr. Kopek shook his head. "Oh, no, Mr. Williams. He goes to the gymnasium." His pronunciation of the word was odd. He did something strange with the letter "g" when he said it. 

"What is the name of it?" 

Mr. Kopek shrugged. "This, I do not know." 

I asked, "What is your phone number?" 

"It is Prospect 5612."

"You mentioned a store. What do you do, Mr. Kopek?" 

"Oh, I own the grocery at the corner of Turk and Leavenworth. Maybe you know it? It is the Maryland Market." 

I shook my head. "Sorry." I leaned back in my chair and asked, "How about if I come by this evening when you and your wife are at home?" 

Mr. Kopek looked surprised. "Yes. Of course. But, why?" 

"I'd like to have a look at your son's bedroom. That might help me discover where he's gone." 

"Yes. That is fine. You come at 8. We will prepare you a nice dinner." 

I smiled. "That would be nice. I'll probably bring along a friend." 

"Your special friend?" 

"No. A work friend. By the name of Andy Anderson." 

"Oh, yes." He wiped his face again. "How much this cost?" 

"Can you pay me a hundred today?" 

His eyes opened wide. "One hundred? That is all?" It was a token amount. Truth be told, I didn't need the money. We would find the man's son and I'd tell Marnie to skip sending the bill. 

"Well, let's start there and see how it goes." 

He nodded, looking very relieved. "Yes. Good. I give you one hundred." He reached into his pocket, took out a folder-over hundred-dollar bill, and handed it to me across the desk. I put it down on the blotter and called out, "Marnie?" 

"Yeah, Nick?"

"Can you make out a receipt for Mr. Kopek? He's paying a hundred." 

"Sure." She walked into the office. "Mr. Kopek?" 

He stood up and nodded. 

"Come in here with me, and I'll make you out a receipt." 

I stood. He looked at me and asked, "Tonight at 8, yes?" 

I nodded and smiled. "Yes. Thank you for coming in, Mr. Kopek." 

He smiled briefly. "Thank you, Mr. Williams." Once again, he didn't offer his hand, and I followed suit.



Nick Williams Mystery Series
In 1953, the richest homosexual in San Francisco is a private investigator.

Nick Williams lives in a modest bungalow with his fireman husband, a sweet fellow from Georgia by the name of Carter Jones.

Nick's gem of a secretary, Marnie Wilson, is worried that Nick isn't working enough. She knits a lot.

Jeffrey Klein, Esquire, is Nick's friend and lawyer. He represents the guys and gals who get caught in police raids in the Tenderloin.

Lt. Mike Robertson is Nick's first love and best friend. He's a good guy who's one hell of a cop.

The Unexpected Heiress is where their stories begin. Read along and fall in love with the City where cable cars climb halfway to the stars.

Long before the Summer of Love, pride parades down Market Street, and the fight for marriage equality, San Francisco was all about the Red Scare, F.B.I. investigations, yellow journalism run amok, and the ladies who play mahjong over tea.


Saturday Series Spotlights
Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3
Nick & Carter Holiday Series
Welcome to a year of holidays with Nick Williams and Carter Jones!

This is a series of short stories with each centered around a specific holiday.

From New Year's Day to Boxing Day, each story stands on its own and might occur in any year from the early 1920s to the first decade of the 21st Century.




Frank W Butterfield
Frank W. Butterfield is the Amazon best-selling author of 89 (and counting) self-published novels, novellas, and short stories. Born and raised in Lubbock, Texas, he has traveled all over the US and Canada and now makes his home in Daytona Beach, Florida. His first attempt at writing at the age of nine with a ball-point pen and a notepad was a failure. Forty years later, he tried again and hasn't stopped since.


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The Savage Son #6
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