Summary:
Last Christmas, Kenn Greyson gave husband Chris Martenson an ultimatum—spend more time with the family or we’re leaving. He never expected Chris’s reply would be “then leave,” but that’s exactly what happened, and Boxing Day took on a whole new meaning.
Separated for nearly a year now, both men are miserable apart and coping the best they can for the kids’ sake. With Christmas just around the corner, a new conflict arises: neither man is willing to forego Christmas morning with their children. Chris finally suggests they spend the holiday together at the house and, to his shock, Kenn agrees.
Armed with the knowledge that he’s been a stubborn idiot, but that perhaps he can change and begin to repair their relationship, Chris takes steps to win his husband back. He just hopes he can get Kenn on the same page before Santa comes down the chimney on Christmas Eve.
Original Review December 2016:
I have featured Sean Michael on my blog, many times and have a few on my Kindle but I have never actually read one. Unto Us the Time has Come was a perfect place for me to start. A great little holiday novella that warms the heart but also makes you just want to reach inside your ereader and knock Kenn and Chris' heads together. Communication, communication, communication is key but then if they had the talk we all know will happen early on it would make for a very short and probably a bit dull one chapter long story. Sometimes we have to step away to realize what we actually have and that's what Unto Us is about, the cliche "love conquers all" might apply but that doesn't mean this one reads as a cliche. A great addition to my holiday shelf and a great introduction to the author, I look forward to reading more from Sean Michael.
Summary:
Camp Bay Christmas
In the wake of his husband's recent passing, nightclub owner Bryan Nantel feels smothered by sympathy from his well-meaning friends. Tired of being seen only as a grieving widower, Bryan decides to spend the holiday with his father in Houston, even though he fears it will be the end of his hard-fought sobriety. But a chance encounter at the airport changes everything.
Noah Porter is a former baseball player whose career was cut short by a devastating injury. He’s not quite ready to come out of the closet, but he has every intention of losing his virginity ASAP. On a whim, he invites Bryan to spend the weekend with him at Camp Bay Chalet, a secluded B&B tucked away in the panhandle of Northern Idaho.
Bryan knows running away with a man he just met is crazy and reckless. Maybe even dangerous. But it sure beats his other options. He figures what happens at Camp Bay can stay at Camp Bay. And a bit of Christmas craziness may be exactly what he and Noah both need.
Summary:
On the advice of his best friend, recent graduate Paul bets there'll be snow in London on Christmas Day. He knows it was a daft thing to do, as he's having no luck finding work after his studies. Four months later, he takes a job as an au pair for Ben and his young son, Jamie. It's been a difficult year for them, and Paul does his best to look after Jamie and give Ben the break he needs. Paul also tries to curb his attraction to Ben, but being sensible isn’t so easy when the festive season begins.
Original Review January 2024:
A short, lovely tale to brighten your day. Not a lot of pages and I don't want to spoil anything so I'll just leave it at this: Paul, Ben, and little Jamie manage to bring joy to the mix that some might find rushed but sometimes happiness has no set timeline and hits when least expected. This is the second story by H Lewis-Foster I've read and I look forward to discovering even more.
Summary:
Foggy Basin
Hudson Carter returned to Foggy Basin and now owns his family’s hardware store Nuts and Bolts. He not only gained a new business when he moved home, he also found the love of his life.
Jack Hulbert loves all the changes his new boss and boyfriend, Hudson, has made to the old, failing hardware store. But as the holiday season gets closer, he wants to do something different this year.
Jack is from a big family, while Hudson’s an only child. When they're invited to spend Christmas with Jack's family, Hudson is hesitant but willing. When the weather takes a turn there's an even bigger chance of chaos but what's Christmas without chaos?
A Foggy Basin Holiday Short Story
Home for the Holidays
When Jax returned home to his small town of Hardin, Kentucky- the last thing he thought he'd find was the life he left behind, and the desire to return.
Jax- I'm going home for the holidays for the first time in three years. It's also been three years since I've gone home. I blame work and the life I worked hard for in Los Angeles. It's a major league team, and if I hadn't worked so hard, I wouldn't have accomplished this. But I had to come back. My high school coach is retiring and he asked me to be his keynote speaker. Home... It comes with a lot of baggage. Why did I have to bump into Kenny? He's the largest piece of baggage I left behind. But he smiled at me, and all I could think of were the good times we had. Not the heartbreak he caused... I need to remember that he was never good for me. He was selfish and full of himself, and he had no right to look so hot.
Kenny- The holidays always bring about a bunch of crap that I really don't want to deal with. This one comes with my father's retirement and the party I have to throw him. I've been alone for five years. But maybe this holiday will be different? I'm tired of being alone, in my own forced exile. Maybe it's time to embrace the future? Besides, Jax is back in town. That's a surprise! But am I ready to see him again after all the hurt I know I caused him? I know what my heart says. It's only ever been Jax for me, even if he does deserve better.
Unto Us the Time Has Come by Sean Michael
“DADDY, NO! I don’t want to go to Da’s! I want to stay here and go to Holly’s for her birthday!”
Jesus fuck, six-year-old girls could scream. Kenn’s head was going to explode like an overripe melon. Just boom. “Honey, your Da has you this weekend. It’s not up to me.”
“But he won’t take me! He has to work on his ’puter, and Holly lives here in the ’partments!”
“Sarah Jane, enough! I will talk to your da, okay?” Because that was his favorite thing on earth, talking to his ex. His soon-to-be ex. Whatever.
“Promise?” Just like that, the sunshine shone through the thunderstorm. “Oh, Daddy. Thank you!”
“I said I’d talk to him. No promises. Micah, get your backpack. It’s time to go to your Da’s.”
“Good. Da has the big TV. This one sucks.”
Ah, eight going on thirty. What bliss.
“I know, son. I’m sorry, huh? This was what I could afford.” Being a starving artist was way more romantic when your husband was paying all the bills and fronted the cost of the studio. Now he had two part-time jobs and a two-bedroom apartment where he slept on the sofa.
Amazing what an ultimatum could cost a guy.
“Whatever. It’s cool, Dad.”
It’s cool, Dad. So casual, so easy. Micah was growing up so fast.
The knock came at the door, and Sarah went screaming past him. “Da! Da! Da!”
God, he hated when Chris came here. He had to be at work in an hour, though. The coffee shop counted on his weekend hours, and he counted on them too.
Sarah’s dark curls bounced everywhere, the wild mass as untameable as his daughter was. She threw the door open, wrapped her arms around Chris, and squealed. “Da! There’s a party at Holly’s!”
“Right now?” Chris asked, giving Sarah a bear hug and making her squeal again.
“No, silly Da! Tomorrow! Daddy, tell him.”
Kenn looked into the deep dark eyes he’d fallen in love with fifteen years ago. Chris was still the finest man he’d ever seen. He resisted the urge to smooth his hair. Not that it mattered. Chris wouldn’t even look at him for more than a second. “Tomorrow at three. It’s here in the complex. I have the invitation. I told Sue, Holly’s mom, we were a maybe.”
Chris sighed, and Kenn refused to notice the dark bags under Chris’s eyes—he wasn’t the only one who was tired.
Jesus fuck, six-year-old girls could scream. Kenn’s head was going to explode like an overripe melon. Just boom. “Honey, your Da has you this weekend. It’s not up to me.”
“But he won’t take me! He has to work on his ’puter, and Holly lives here in the ’partments!”
“Sarah Jane, enough! I will talk to your da, okay?” Because that was his favorite thing on earth, talking to his ex. His soon-to-be ex. Whatever.
“Promise?” Just like that, the sunshine shone through the thunderstorm. “Oh, Daddy. Thank you!”
“I said I’d talk to him. No promises. Micah, get your backpack. It’s time to go to your Da’s.”
“Good. Da has the big TV. This one sucks.”
Ah, eight going on thirty. What bliss.
“I know, son. I’m sorry, huh? This was what I could afford.” Being a starving artist was way more romantic when your husband was paying all the bills and fronted the cost of the studio. Now he had two part-time jobs and a two-bedroom apartment where he slept on the sofa.
Amazing what an ultimatum could cost a guy.
“Whatever. It’s cool, Dad.”
It’s cool, Dad. So casual, so easy. Micah was growing up so fast.
The knock came at the door, and Sarah went screaming past him. “Da! Da! Da!”
God, he hated when Chris came here. He had to be at work in an hour, though. The coffee shop counted on his weekend hours, and he counted on them too.
Sarah’s dark curls bounced everywhere, the wild mass as untameable as his daughter was. She threw the door open, wrapped her arms around Chris, and squealed. “Da! There’s a party at Holly’s!”
“Right now?” Chris asked, giving Sarah a bear hug and making her squeal again.
“No, silly Da! Tomorrow! Daddy, tell him.”
Kenn looked into the deep dark eyes he’d fallen in love with fifteen years ago. Chris was still the finest man he’d ever seen. He resisted the urge to smooth his hair. Not that it mattered. Chris wouldn’t even look at him for more than a second. “Tomorrow at three. It’s here in the complex. I have the invitation. I told Sue, Holly’s mom, we were a maybe.”
Chris sighed, and Kenn refused to notice the dark bags under Chris’s eyes—he wasn’t the only one who was tired.
Crazy Together by Marie Sexton
BRYAN
The man who drove me to the airport was a complete stranger to me.
He was also my best friend.
Sometimes I marveled that both things could be true, but this was what my life had become—a strange play I acted in, surrounded by people I knew but who didn’t know me at all.
Dustin slowed as he neared the drop-off zone of Grand Junction Regional Airport. He did that thing I’d become so familiar with over two years of friendship—giving me a side eye as he cleared his throat, tugging at his short but bushy beard with his free hand as he tried to decide whether to speak and what to say if he did.
“Are you sure you want to spend Christmas with your father?” he finally blurted out.
I was quite sure I didn’t want to spend Christmas with any member of my family, but I nodded. “It’ll be fine.”
He slowed to a crawl, seemingly looking for the perfect place to pull over amidst the other cars. In reality, he was buying time. “You could stay here with us.”
“Us” meant him and his two best friends, Chase and Lance, but I knew them even less than I knew him. They’d only come to Colorado to help him run the bar while I was busy watching my husband die. It seemed like they’d decided to stay, which made Dustin happy, but I could hardly stand being around them, not because they were unfriendly, but because to them, I was still “the widower.” I was the guy who’d basically lived at the hospital for six long months while they managed the business I didn’t even want. To every single person I knew, I was still the guy in mourning.
I wondered when I’d get to stop being that guy.
“Bryan?” Dustin prodded, and I realized he’d stopped the car at the curb and I was still sitting there, staring out the windshield at the pale blue winter sky, wondering how this had become my life.
I shook myself out of my self-pity. Or at least I hoped I did a decent job of pretending. “Thanks for driving me.”
“Not a problem. You know that.”
I hoped he’d leave it at that. Just let me retrieve my carry-on suitcase from the back of his 4Runner and drive on, but of course that wasn’t his way. Dustin may have looked like an extra from Sons of Anarchy—all tattoos, piercings, and muscle—but at heart, he was a gentleman through and through. He climbed out of the car and pulled my suitcase out, but stopped short of handing it to me. He wore no coat, even though it was only 45 degrees outside. Only a t-shirt made for somebody half his size, but the cold never seemed to faze Dustin. He didn’t even shiver. Just stood there with his bulging biceps, my suitcase looking tiny in his hand.
“Thanks,” I said again, reaching for the bag. “Really, I appreciate it.”
He almost pulled it away. I swear I could see the gears in his head turning as he debated how much to say and how much to let lie. Holding my suitcase hostage would have given him time to decide, but he let go of it with a sigh.
“I’ll see you in five days,” I said.
He let me turn and take one or two steps before saying, “Hey, Bryan?”
I turned back. “Yeah?”
“I’m still your sponsor.”
I almost smiled. “I think I’m yours, actually.”
“Just promise you’ll call before you do anything you’ll regret.”
He didn’t mean “anything” I might regret. He meant one very specific thing. “I promise I’ll call before taking a drink.”
He nodded, his jaw tight with things he still wanted to say but knew I didn’t want to hear. I left without looking back. I wasn’t checking a bag and already had my boarding pass on my phone, so I headed straight for the mercifully short security line.
Once I was through the TSA checkpoint and had my shoes back on, I found my gate.
Right next to the bar.
Of course. The entire airport only had three gates so where else would it be?
I sat at one of the stools, my suitcase at my feet.
My hands shook as I ordered a gin and tonic.
Betting on Snow by H Lewis-Foster
“YOU sure about this, love?” The woman behind the counter gave Paul a concerned, maternal look that made him feel about twelve years old. “You a student, are you?”
“Not anymore.” Paul glanced down at his Green Day T-shirt and the jeans he’d been wearing for at least a week. He’d really have to smarten up if he was going to get a decent job.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Crimson-lacquered fingertips picked the crumpled notes from Paul’s hand. “So that’s twenty pounds at 30-1 that it’ll snow on Christmas Day. You know it has to snow in London, don’t you? They can have ten foot of the stuff in Scotland, it won’t count.”
“I know.” Paul took his receipt and put it into his wallet. As he made his way out of the betting shop, past the old men who seemed to spend their whole lives there, Paul wondered what the hell he’d just done. Twenty pounds was almost all the cash he had, and he couldn’t remember the last white Christmas in London. For the hundredth time in the last three years, he asked himself why on earth he’d listened to Steve Roedean.
Paul had met Steve on his first day at uni, where they’d lived on the same corridor in halls. While their chosen subjects of English and maths were at opposite ends of the academic spectrum, they’d found they had plenty of things in common. Among these were shared passions for American rock music and late-night discussions on the meaning of life and their favourite real ales, which made them the best of friends, if not always popular with their neighbours. No one could make Paul laugh like Steve, and they’d got into more scrapes than was good for their grades and quite possibly their future careers, but Paul couldn’t imagine going through his student days without Steve.
Looking back, Paul was amazed he hadn’t fallen for Steve, whose soft Irish accent and striking green eyes seemed to charm almost everyone he met. Paul was also relieved he hadn’t succumbed to his friend’s undeniable allure, as Steve was totally and irretrievably straight. He always had a girlfriend on the go, and his attractiveness to the opposite sex wasn’t harmed by the fact he was never short of money. Steve supplemented his modest monthly allowance from his parents with the occasional flutter, as he liked to call it. He’d bet on everything from political appointments and obscure sports events to the names of celebrities’ soon-to-be-born babies.
Luckily for Steve, his gambling wasn’t compulsive but more of a mathematical challenge, in which he used his skills in the field of probability—as well as a hefty dose of luck—to his financial advantage. Steve often let him in on his wagers, but Paul had never dared risk more than a pound or two. So why had he bet his last twenty quid on such a ridiculously long shot as this?
Steve had looked so sincere as they’d staggered home from their final night at the union bar. “Paul, mate, it’s the safest bet ever. I’ve studied the long-range forecasts and historical records, and I am absolutely certain it’s going to snow on Christmas day. You could put your last penny on it.”
And so Paul had, for old times’ sake and for friendship’s sake. But as he walked out into the July sunshine, Paul truly wished that he hadn’t.
Nuts and Bolts Holiday by BL Maxwell
Hudson
I watched as Jack buzzed around the store putting lights and decorations anywhere he could hang them or affix them to a display or a spare hook that happened to be empty. “You really don’t need to go to so much trouble. I mean we’re a hardware store. Do you really think people will be coming in here to Christmas shop?” I questioned him, and as soon as he turned his head and met my eyes, I knew for a fact it was the wrong thing to say.
“Hudson, we’ve been working hard to make sure we have a good variety of anything anyone in this town could need that isn’t a food item. Now why the hell are you ruining my fun?” He crossed his arms making the lights he still held clatter around on the floor at his feet.
“I don’t mean to ruin your fun. I just don’t understand the need to add more stuff.” Since we’d remodeled Nuts and Bolts it was neat and clean, and we now knew where everything was and how many we had of every item. Looking at all the decorations all I could see was it making it harder for us to clean, and harder to keep track of inventory. He walked closer to me and slipped his arm around my waist.
“I promise I’ll keep it neat, and I’ll take it all down right after New Year’s, but I ordered some ornaments, lights, and artificial trees as well as a few live ones. I thought we could put them out front and use them for decorations before they sell.” He grinned before kissing me. “I love you,” he said.
“That’s not fair. You know I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.” He chuckled and looked at me from under his lashes knowing exactly what he was doing.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said with just a little too much innocence.
“Okay, so tell me what you have in mind,” I said, and listened while he laid out his elaborate plan to string lights around the front of the store, as well as inside.
“Oh, and I hired someone to paint the window,” he said.
“Is that all?”
He squinted one eye and tipped his head before answering. “I think so. I mean I wanted to put a little Christmas tree lot out back, I know we talked about that, but I like the idea of selling live trees better. And we have artificial trees if they want a bigger tree. Don’t worry, I’ll sell all of them.”
In that moment, I knew he’d ordered more than he’d admitted to. “How many are we talking?”
“Well, they had a better deal if I ordered more. At first, I was only going to order ten because I didn’t want to go crazy, but it was such a good deal to buy fifty I went ahead and bought them. Plus, it’s not like they’ll go bad or anything.”
I wanted to be mad at him, but Jack worked his ass off and he knew the business way better than I did. He’d worked here longer and had always been a part of the small town of Foggy Basin while I’d moved away for a while. “I trust you. If you think you can sell fifty trees then have at it,” I said making him smile.
“Yes!” he said, and fist bumped the air. “I’m going to set one up right in front of the window then put some of the tools and household items under it for gift ideas. What do you think?” he asked, his eyes now bright with excitement. “They’re going to paint a wreath of holly outlining it. It’s going to be so awesome.” He might have squealed just a little bit but when he cleared his throat, I knew better than to comment. “Don’t forget we’re spending Christmas with my family.”
“I won’t. But are you sure they don’t mind having three more people?” They’d invited Mom and Dad over too. It had been a while since I’d spent a holiday here. I usually drove over for dinner and got out of town before the traffic got too crazy. We’d stopped exchanging gifts years ago and looking back I regretted that. It didn’t need to be anything big, but I wanted them to know I cared about and loved them.
Once Upon a Wish by Shane K Morton
1
JAX
“Are we understanding the situation, Mr. Mason?” The doctor raised his eyebrows as he stared at me from behind his desk with a concerned look on his face. All I could do was glaze over as the enormity of what he had just said washed over me.
“This isn’t the news we were hoping for.” My manager, Dan, practically hyperventilated.
“I know.” Doc looked me in the eyes. I knew this sucked for him too. Telling someone that their life was over couldn’t be easy.
I had known, though. As soon as the ball left my hand, I knew my career was over. I could feel the tear underneath my skin – the burn and instantaneous pain that rocketed through me. I stayed on my feet and screwed my face tight as I walked off the field and into the dugout. I had known – but it didn’t make the truth any less hard to hear. I had done everything they suggested – surgery that kept me on the bench for too long had sucked. Watching everyone else do their part –was the hardest thing of all as I sat there, willing the muscle to heal correctly.
It had been my fault. My choice.
It had been stupid.
Wishes…
If wishes were fishes – as my dad used to day.
“You’re sure that another surgery and hardcore therapy couldn’t…”
“Dan,” I said softly. My manager had big plans for me, and now… I guess I wouldn’t really need his services any longer.
Doctor Brown nodded. “Like I said – anything is possible, but the muscle would have to be shortened again, and that would completely change the radius of what his arm could do. If he played any other position, this wouldn’t be the same conversation – but as a pitcher and the force that is put upon his shoulder and back muscles, I’m afraid that this is the end.”
“I understand. Well, it was a good run, I guess.” I bit my bottom lip. “I came expecting this, but… I knew that it wasn’t… that it wasn’t going to be the same. I could feel it. I had no rotation.”
“It’s hard to hear. I know.” Doc Brown stayed behind his desk and closed my file. It felt final, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “A surgery isn’t the… If you’re not playing, Jax, I’d just walk away and continue your therapy. But a fast ball… I’m sorry, son. This is the end of being able to play at your top condition.”
“We gave it our best. I did everything that I was told, doc. So, what now?” I looked over at Dan. His face was ashen with the news of one of his star players being forced into retirement.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they’ll keep you on the bench and wait out your contract. But… My guess is they’ll buy you out. They’ll need to replace you, Jax.”
I straightened up in the chair. Bad news felt less bad if you faced it with your head held high and your spine as straight as steel. That was something Coach Criss had taught me my freshman year as the state championship slipped from my fingers with a bad curveball. I still woke sometimes in a cold sweat as I dreamed about that ball flying high toward the center field and landing beyond the wall. The homerun that changed the course of my life.
Looked like my life was changing course again. This time the curveball was coming right at me.
“It’s over, huh?” I dragged myself out of the doc’s office and toward the elevator. I had been stewing with worry over my fucking shoulder for half a year. Now the stew had simmered, and I had a lot of figuring out to do. My career, short as it was, had come to an end. Six years of pitching in the major leagues, and three years ago, a giant break as my team won the series. I had been at the top of my game, and my salary had started to show it.
What did I have now? A few pennants and a win and a loss in the World Series. A house that cost more than I ever thought I could afford, along with a few endorsement deals that would probably dry up when I finally broke the news of having to retire.
Oh yeah… And a mountain of depression. I also had that.
“Not over, Jax – but things will be different now. You still have endorsements, and I don’t see them dropping you right away. Get the money and put it in your bank. When we announce, and we’ll have to plan that, we’ll see a rush of offers. If we play it right, you could walk away with a large enough nest egg to keep you comfortable for the rest of your life.”
“Why would anyone want a washed-up baseball player to be the face of anything, Dan? I’m over, bro.”
Dan chuckled as the elevator doors opened, and we walked inside.
“What’s funny?” I asked stiffly. My world was falling apart, and my manager had the fucking giggles.
“Baseball may have opened the door for you, kiddo. But it’s the way you look that brought the money in. You could have been a shitty player, and that face of yours would have still gotten you that deal for shaving cream. Your body is what got you deodorant. Once Celeb Magazine named you one of the five hottest celebrities, people started calling. We can ride that train for as long as you’re willing – get you on some reality shows, and your fame will only grow – baseball or not.”
“Dude… You know that’s not what I want to do.”
He sighed, and the elevator dinged. “I know. But it’s what we got. You can’t be an all-star pitcher anymore. But you can be an even bigger celebrity if you want. Think of the money you could be making me.” He whined. “I like money, Jax.”
“I like my privacy, Dan.” I held the door open with my hand as we got off and walked through the lobby. “So, what now?”
“I’ll talk to the owners and see what kind of deal I can get you. I assume you don’t want to be benched, right?”
“Exactly. What’s the point of sitting and watching? It would kill me. I don’t want to do that ever again.”
“Then we’ll try to get you paid out, and you can walk away. But promise me that you’ll think about the offers we’ll get. Commercials and print aren’t the type of money you walk away from, you know.”
“Yeah… I just have to… Can we talk about this later?”
“You promise to think about it?”
“Sure. But now, I have to go home and start packing. Sorry, but I have to do this, even if I don’t really want to. Going home with all of this hanging over me just… Well, it doesn’t feel right.”
“Oh, yeah… The high school coach thing. When’s the last time you’ve gone back home?”
“It’s been a… three years. My mom is thrilled, but… Going back home has a lot of…”
“Baggage? It always does, my friend. It always does.”
“You really are a fucking poet, Dan.”
I stopped in front of my Maserati and held my head low. This wouldn’t be my last time coming to the ballpark – but it was the last time I would leave it belonging to something bigger. Being part of a team had always been the lifeblood – the iron in my spine – that camaraderie between brothers had been a touchstone since I was old enough to hold a bat in little league. It was over.
“When you come back, Jax, we can deal with all of this. I’ll let you know when I hear back from the owners. Until then, try to enjoy some down time, and don’t dwell on this. Your life isn’t over, kiddo – it’s just beginning.”
“A new chapter, huh?” I opened my door and pushed down the urge to slam it as hard as I could. “I’m not good at… not knowing, Dan. I’ve had my future planned for so long that now I…”
“Dude… Just go home, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
I shut my door and drove as fast as I could. There wasn’t a reason to be careful any longer.
Best-selling author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out in used book stores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi, Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.
Sean fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.
Sean’s available for interviews, by the way. He can always be talked into, well, talking about himself. Just drop him an email.
Marie SextonMarie Sexton lives in Colorado. She’s a fan of just about anything that involves muscular young men piling on top of each other. In particular, she loves the Denver Broncos and enjoys going to the games with her husband. Her imaginary friends often tag along. Marie has one daughter, two cats, and one dog, all of whom seem bent on destroying what remains of her sanity. She loves them anyway.
H. Lewis-Foster lives in the north of England and has always worked with books, in one form or another. A keen reader and writer of gay fiction, she is now the proud author of several short stories and a debut novel 'Burning Ashes'.
H. likes to create characters that are talented, funny and quite often gorgeous, but who all have their faults and vulnerable sides, and she hopes that you'll enjoy reading their stories as much as she loves writing them.
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.
Shane Morton has performed in all 48 continental United States as well as Canada, Mexico and Germany. He lives in California with his husband and their sweet pup. Shane's series include Point Pleasant Holiday Series, Drag Queen Detective Cozy Mysteries, and The Bluegrass Boys. He has written quite a few standalones and even ventured into the world of YA. He likes writing stories of the LGBT experience.
When not writing, he can be found in a dark dive bar performing cabaret or at a film festival.
Sean Michael
Marie Sexton
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H Lewis-Foster
BL Maxwell
Betting on Snow by H Lewis-Foster
Nuts and Bolts Holiday by BL Maxwell
B&N / KOBO / GOODREADS TBR
Once Upon a Wish by Shane K Morton
