A Yuletide Excursion by Ellie Thomas
Summary:Lucky John #3
In early Restoration London, Cuthbert Watson, a comely twenty-year-old page is in service to Sir Lewis Montgomery at the Palace of Whitehall. Cuthbert freely enjoys the dissolute pleasures of the newly established court of King Charles II and the great city of London.
During the winter of 1661, as the royal court empties for Christmas, Cuthbert dreads being left virtually alone. So when his friends Owen and John invite him to Monmouthshire for the festive season, Cuthbert jumps at the opportunity to accompany Sir Lewis and his new bride, Lady Antonia, for the long journey west.
On the first stage of their journey, Cuthbert falls foul of Mr. Lemuel Freeman, Lady Antonia’s stern twin brother, who condemns Cuthbert’s frivolous ways.
But does Lemuel’s disapproval hide an irresistible attraction? While these two very different men are thrown together over Christmas, might their mutual desire lead to a lasting romance?
Original Review December 2024:
I have not read the first 2 books in the author's Lucky John series, matter of fact I didn't realize this holiday gem was connected to Lucky John and Lucky in Love until I was a chapter or two in. I wasn't lost and I look forward to going back and reading Owen and John's journey in 2025. Perhaps there might be a few minor mentions that would have painted a fuller picture had I read the other two but I didn't really feel that way, even after Owen and John enter the story.
Cuthbert does what he needs to to survive life at court and when he meets Lemuel, the brother-in-law to his master, well lets just say seeing eye to eye isn't exactly in the room. I gotta give Cuthbert credit though because my Irish temper would have been flared up and I probably wouldn't have been to keep it in check.
This is another historical showcasing the author's talent and respect for the past which only heightens the amazing storytelling of this holiday gem in my book.
Summary:
Swipe left on the Big Bad Wolf!
Hugo is a successful London lawyer, fiercely driven, habitually short-tempered, scornful of all things Christmas—and also extremely miserable. Until recently, he was dating Davy, his cute and ultra-efficient PA. For Hugo—never very good at social interaction, let alone romance—it was a hot, exciting, and surprisingly loving time. But after a heated argument put them at odds, they’ve now reverted to a purely professional relationship. Alone, with the holiday season looming, Hugo is determined to cope with it all as a mature, professional man. He’s just not sure he’s succeeding.
Davy is also still reeling from the breakup with his grumpy boss. He’d been falling hard for Hugo’s clever wit and quiet charm, hidden under all that crankiness, and eagerly looking forward to spending Christmas with his lover—if he could only persuade Hugo to put up the appropriate decorations!—but it wasn’t to be. His PA job and his relationship with Hugo were the best things in his life, but the argument knocked both his pride and his confidence, and it’s far better now to concentrate solely on his career. He’s sure this is the right decision. Definitely. Probably.
A new dating app called HuntsMan seems promising to help him move on … but each date is worse than the last. What wandering eyes they have, what selective hearing they have—and, wait, is that guy actually trying to sniff Davy? When the final bad date with the sharp, shiny teeth turns out to be way too predatory for comfort, Davy realises how much he needs and misses Hugo.
Will there be a second chance for them both? More importantly, will it come in time to save Davy from the Big Bad Wolf?
Summary:
All Joe wants to do is enjoy winter break from college, but it just isn’t going his way.
His mom remarried, he runs into his ex who announced he was also getting married, and he’s missing the big end of semester party on campus. To top it all off, he’s tasked with bringing home twins he’s never met so they can spend Christmas at his house with their uncle—his new stepdad.
Then he meets the twins, Kris and Karen, and Joe realizes Kris is really cute. His luck might be changing, but is Joe over his ex enough to move forward?
Summary:
Little Christmas Season 4 #1
Rivi: I’ve known I’m a little for a long time but never acted on it.
I’m far too shy to go looking for daddies, even online. Dating sites are untrustworthy. Besides, who would want me? I’m too small, annoyingly quiet and I wear awful, thick glasses that make my eyes look too big. No one would glance my way even if I did get up the courage to go to a club or gay bar.
But then I find out my uncle, Trent Winterbourne, owns a large kink club and has a little for a significant other. How did I never know this before? Uncle Trent is having a huge but very private Christmas party at his country estate in the middle of a Christmas tree farm. This man must know lots of daddies.
If I do anything right with my life from now on, I need to wrangle an invitation to stay with my uncle through the holidays. Maybe then I can finally begin the hunt for my one true daddy.
Briar: I’m an experienced dom and daddy but I’ve lost my fire in the past year or so. I work at a kink club and night after night it’s the same thing. Am I bored? Do I need change in my life?
These days, I focus mainly on work, until my friend Trent Winterbourne invites me to his estate for the Christmas holidays. There will be mostly kink “family” members there, and an exclusive kink party in his secret BDSM basement.
There, I meet Rivi, and my life is never the same again.
MM romance, daddy/little, holiday, Christmas, first time, size difference, cute onesies, age play, age gap, sweet HEA.
Note: Trent Winterbourne is a recurring character in my Little Mister Perfect series and was first introduced in A Little Christmas: Ozzy’s Secret and also appears in A Little Christmas: Kit and A Daddy for Maddy.
The Marchesi Family #4
Devil, my beast of a man, seduces me into eloping, then kidnaps me for a honeymoon in Christmastown, Vermont.
A lot of men would be furious. I simply planned revenge involving handcuffs.
My annoyance doesn’t last long. Devil rents my dream cottage and manages to draw me out of my Scrooge-like ways. But I’ve been keeping a secret, and it follows me all the way to Christmastown.
Can Devil and I enjoy each other, find our Christmas spirit, and keep ourselves safe from a vicious killer?
This is a sequel to Devil (The Marchesi Family 3) and is best enjoyed after that story.
A Yuletide Excursion by Ellie Thomas
The weather hadn’t improved when they reached Hammersmith. Cuthbert had the dubious honour of standing in a muddy puddle while directing reverse operations with Sir Lewis’ baggage.
At least I don’t have to carry the lot by myself, he thought shouldering his bag while following the servants up the long garden to the back of the house.
Having been shown upstairs with any necessities, he unpacked what Sir Lewis required in the closet adjoining the marital bedroom.
This is a comfortable sort of house, Cuthbert concluded. The furnishings weren’t new but were highly polished and cared for, indicating the owners had little regard for fashion or other people’s opinions.
Sir Lewis was presumably downstairs, making himself pleasant to his new wife and her family, no doubt provided with warming refreshment.
Cuthbert presumed he was not immediately required. He took advantage of this respite by taking the opportunity to change into a dry set of livery, thankful that his travel bag was oiled and relatively waterproof.
In the privacy of the closet, he stripped briskly. To his dismay, he found that the rain had permeated his shirt to his chilled and goose-pimpled skin. The idea of pulling his dry shirt over his wet body was unappealing. Then he recollected the pile of towels in the bedroom near the wash bowl. Surely one won’t be missed. I can sneak it down to the kitchen to dry with the rest of my clothes.
Lulled into a sense of security by the prevailing silence of the upper floor, he scuttled into the bedroom on his mission. In the act of picking up a towel, the door opened before he had a chance to shield his nakedness.
“Sister, are you there?”
At this query, delivered in a north-country twang, a tall, blond gentleman appeared in the doorway. He halted immediately, presumably taken aback by finding a naked man in his sister’s bed chamber who was not her husband.
Cuthbert’s carnal instruction at court meant that he was unembarrassed by his state of undress. He was not particularly tall or muscular, but his slender compactness proved popular. He had been assured on numerous occasions that he shouldn’t be ashamed of what he had been endowed by God’s good grace.
In this instance, it crossed his mind to ponder if it was the correct form to make his bow while not wearing a stitch of clothing.
“Good day to you, sir,” he said chirpily. “I am Cuthbert, page to Sir Lewis. I got a soaking on our way here. I was changing into dry clothes before I reported to my master.”
Not that it’s any of your concern.
The gentleman didn’t appear reassured by Cuthbert’s explanation but stared at him with chilly disapproval.
Cuthbert was a few inches shorter, but he lifted his chin and met that gaze unflinchingly. He acknowledged that the gentleman, still youthful in his mid-twenties, was handsome in a rigid sort of way, with straight blond hair and cool grey eyes.
Well set up, too. Cuthbert admired those broad shoulders under his sober coat.
“I’ll leave you to cover yourself,” the man said coldly. “The sooner you’re attired in keeping with a respectable household, the better.”
He gave a self-satisfied nod and departed. Cuthbert was open-mouthed with indignation.
That stiff-rumped scold! It’s hardly my fault he strolled in when I happened to be bare-arsed.
As he briskly towelled himself, it occurred to Cuthbert that he might have just been introduced to the owner of the house. He grinned. An inauspicious meeting.
Cuthbert pulled his shirt over his head. Oh well, can’t be helped, he thought.
Just before the man’s mask came down, Cuthbert speculated if he had imagined a touch of colour in those high cheekbones or a glint of interest outweighing the surprise in those pale blue eyes.
Huntsman by Clare London
“Is there a problem?” I said, a little plaintively, but I admit I was getting pissed off. The River View Bar on a Friday night was very busy, and very noisy. Also, the Christmas decorations were out in force, which I usually loved at this time of year—though Hugo grumbled that he found Christmas too commercialised and tacky, so we had nothing in the office to reflect the season—but, tonight, even I winced at all the red and green foil banners festooning the bar. There was glitter all up my sleeve from an over-enthusiastic Christmas menu, and the bar stools were high, small, and bloody uncomfortable—my left cheek was going numb from trying to keep balanced. Plus, the music was too loud for a quiet chat, the snacks were overpriced and bland, and the cocktails were all style over substance.
And, oh dear, my mood wasn’t quite as hopeful or enthusiastic as I’d hoped, having met Rafe, my date for the evening. He was a tall, intellectual-looking guy with thick-rimmed glasses and a suit jacket that hovered somewhere between ‘college professor’ and ‘gentlemen farmer’. Good-looking enough, I supposed. I hadn’t worn my specs tonight, but I could clearly see he hadn’t mastered the more mature, sophisticated look as well as… well, someone else I knew. Rafe was currently leaning on the bar, his body half-turned away from me.
“Rafe?”
He turned his head back my way. “Um. Yeah. Pardon?”
“Is there some reason you won’t look at me?” He’d given me, my nervous smile, and my best scarlet shirt an encouraging once-over when we greeted each other at the bar, but during the next hour, his gaze had started to wander. “Were you hoping for someone else? Because if I’m not the guy you wanted to be matched with, I can happily go—”
“No, no,” he said quickly. He swivelled on his seat to face me fully. “I mean, I’m looking now, right? You’re very cute, Davy.” His eyes looked owlish and eager behind his specs. Huge eyes. Unlike my readers, his lenses seemed bottle-thick.
But it happened again, ten minutes later, in the middle of us chatting about whether to get a bite to eat after our drink. His gaze slid over my left shoulder and fixed on something—or someone—on the other side of the bar.
“Do you know that guy?” I snapped.
Rafe blinked at me and took a long, slurpy drink of his Long Island Iced Tea. “What, him? I mean… Um. No. Who?”
Busted, mate. I could hear the edge in my tone, and I knew it was rude, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. “That guy you can’t keep your eyes off. If you don’t know him, is he someone you need to report to the police?”
Rafe frowned. “Huh?”
“Because you’ve been looking for long enough to memorise his features. Like you might have to spot him in an identity parade.”
Rafe gave a half-laugh, half-snort like he wasn’t sure what was going on. “Hey, don’t get snippy. Despite all this Christmas bling, it’s rather dark in here, isn’t it? I’m just sussing out the decor.”
The décor? Is that what he was calling it? I resisted a sigh. Instead, I dragged over one of the candles on the counter—what had Hugo called them? Stupid, stunted, sweet-stinking candles—and the light swooped across Rafe’s face.
“Now that’s better,” he said with another leery blink. “All the better to see you with. You’re cute, did I say?” And then, for God’s sake! his gaze slid over my right shoulder this time as a group of young men in sports shirts passed us with loud and clumsy laughter.
Okay. I didn’t need glasses to see what was happening here. I couldn’t remember what other “things in common” we had when we got matched on HuntsMan, but I suspected Rafe had been stretching the truth in saying he was looking for a partner. His eyes had followed every single man that had entered the bar since I’d arrived. On closer investigation, I decided he didn’t really look intellectual, just pretentious. Maybe the specs were magnifiers, so he could spot potential prey from a farther distance. And that potential wasn’t going to include me.
“That blond twink, just come in?” Rafe said gleefully. “You ever consider playing with more than one guy in bed? It’d be really hot, stuck in the middle of you two. I can see it now.”
Yeah, those specs were definitely binoculars in disguise.
I stood, and hitched my red coat back onto my shoulders. “I’ll be off now,” I said politely. Then said it again, because someone had bellowed with laughter behind us at the same time.
“Huh?” Rafe blinked (again) at me with surprise.
“Thank you for a…” I revised my words, because it was more important to be truthful than polite, right? “It was an experience meeting you.”
And I left quickly. It felt almost like an escape. I could only hope, for Rafe’s sake, that the blond twink he had his eyes on came with a good supply of broad-minded friends.
Home for Christmas by Sarah Hadley Brook
"I felt like a kid with his first crush." The blush darkened across his face and down his neck and Joe found himself wondering if his chest was flushed, too.
Joe felt his heartbeat speed up. "Why didn't you come talk to me?"
"You were with some douche named Danny."
Joe scowled. "Why do you call him that?"
Kris pressed his lips together and glanced away. "Because at the party, when you headed into the bathroom, he…he bumped into me. I hate to tell you this, but he grabbed my crotch and asked me if I wanted a threesome."
Joe felt the blood drain from his face as a wave of nausea hit him. He took a step back, his head stomach reeling. Had Danny cheated on him?
Kris reached for him, but Joe waved his hand away. He needed to get out of the room. Joe practically ran downstairs in his haste to get some air and ended up tripping over one of the cats.
"Mimi!"
"Don't yell at the cat, Joe!"
"Sorry, Mom," he muttered as he reached down for the newest cat addition to the family. His mom had been rescuing cats for as long as he could remember. Mimi made three in the home for now. Joe stroked the cat's gray fur as he whispered his apology. Mimi, properly soothed, jumped down and flicked her tail at him.
He saw his mom reach for plates in the cabinet and he grabbed them first. "I'll set the table," he offered.
"Thanks, Joey. Where's Kris?" She asked as she glanced into the hall behind him.
"Still upstairs. Not sure if he'll be down soon or not."
"Okay. Karen should be down any second. She went for a run this morning. What an amazing girl, Joe. She gets up early every morning and runs five miles!"
Joe grimaced. He was definitely not a runner.
"You know who you should introduce her to?"
"Mom," he said, his voice warning her to stop there. Not that it did any good. She continued anyway.
"Your friend Gavin."
He bit back a laugh as he set the plates around the old wooden table. "Gavin's gay, Mom."
She turned to look at him, waving the spatula in the air. "He is? Hmm," she looked deep in thought for a moment before her face brightened up. "How about Kris? Michael says he isn't dating anyone right now. He and Gavin might hit it off."
If he had been punched hard in the gut, it would not have hurt as much as the image of Kris in the arms of Gavin did. A primal, possessive desire rushed through him and he instantly wanted to yell at Gavin. He felt himself reaching for his phone before he remembered this was all talk. Gavin hadn't made a move on his boyfriend.
Boyfriend? What the hell Joe? Kris isn't your guy. You have no reason to get jealous.
"Joe?"
He turned to look at his mom. "Yeah?"
"I asked you if you were okay?"
"Oh, fine. Just fine. I guess just tired from the long drive."
"Well, have a seat. Michael's out back getting some wood so we can have a cozy fire in the fireplace tonight while we watch Miracle on 34th Street. As soon as he gets in and Karen joins us we can eat."
Joe sat down in the closest chair. His stomach was churning and he wasn't even sure he wanted pancakes anymore. Finding out Danny had groped Kris and asked about a threesome had hit him like a brick.
A Little Christmas: Rivi by Wendy Rathbone
1
Rivi
Apurple unicorn nightlight glowed down the darkened hall. I tiptoed on the wood floor, trying to be quiet, but Mama’s door was ajar. A rustle of blankets froze me.
“Is that you, Rivi?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Good. Everything okay?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Night-night, then.”
“Night, Mama.”
It was our routine five nights a week. I got off my job as a drink server at the local Indian casino at one-thirty. I always made it home by two. I hated that Mama waited up. That she worried. At twenty-one, I was grown man—even if I was rather small in stature. She shouldn’t have to worry so much. But she told me a hundred times, “You’ll always be my sweet little boy.”
Working at the casino was a good job when tips were flowing. Even though it was a small casino, not like one of those big city resorts, when people won they could be generous. But there were slow nights, too, when I mostly hung out at the bar talking to the bartenders.
I pushed my thick glasses further up the bridge of my nose and headed for my room. I tossed my Shrek backpack on an easy chair by the window, unzipped the front compartment, and took out my cash tips for the night. At least half my tips went on credit cards and were added to my paycheck twice a month. But we were allowed to take the cash after every shift as long as we declared it to the manager.
I saved just about every dollar I made. Mama wouldn’t take rent from me, so I bought groceries, despite her shaking her head at me, and contributed to electric, water and trash.
What I had left over, I could save or spend as I wanted.
We weren’t poor. My Uncle Trent, Mama’s cousin or second cousin—I wasn’t sure—was very rich and when I was ten he’d bought her the house we lived in when my dad died. He came around at least once a month to visit and check up on us and said I should call him Uncle Trent. He sent her what he called “child support” even though I wasn’t his kid. Mama also worked part-time as a substitute teacher. She loved her job.
We were doing well. That was why I didn’t feel guilty when I bought some things I wanted just for me.
I straightened all the cash in my hand and put it in order. It was mostly ones. But there were some fives and even a twenty. And change. Tonight, I’d made seventy dollars and seventy-five cents in just the cash tips. That was more than average for the cash.
I walked to my dresser and opened the bottom drawer. Behind my socks I kept a Disney Peter Pan handbag I’d bought online. It was a woman’s purse, but I didn’t care. It was colorful with the most beautiful character art. I loved collecting Disney stuff. It made me feel like my insides were made of bubbles to look at it all. Inside my Peter Pan purse was where I kept my cash.
I took everything out and counted it, adding tonight’s tips. I had over four grand in that bag.
My Disney collection was known to my mom. I bought a lot of it online. Plus, I bought all my electronics that way. But there were other things, secret things I bought with my cash that I never showed another soul. And I was getting ready to go on a shopping trip, an in-person one where no one would ever see the packages coming to me.
I stashed my money back in the purse and closed the drawer.
Quickly, I showered and changed into my favorite sleep onesie. On it were cows jumping over moons. I was small, but I didn’t quite fit into kids’ clothes. This was the largest onesie with feet I could find in person, and I had to teach myself to sew to adjust it so I could wear it. I added flannel at all the seams. It had turned out quite cute.
I only wore it with my door locked. Luckily, Mama wasn’t the prying type. She liked her own privacy, as well.
There were some things I didn’t hide. Mama knew I loved my squishies. The softer, the better. I mentioned they were simply extra pillows and made me comfortable to use as support on my aching bones after a long night at work. She had zero problems with that.
One was a hotdog. One was a Santa Claus. And of course there was the classic teddy bear. I hugged him to my chest every night and always went to sleep with a smile on my face. Or I imagined I smiled. And why not? I was happy.
Except for one thing.
Loneliness. I did not have a boyfriend. I never had. My fear was that this would be the reality of my whole life. Who would want me? I was too weird. Too shy. Too small. With glasses that hid my best features, my eyes. No one would glance my way even if I did get up the courage to go to a club or gay bar.
Being gay was hard enough. But I also knew from about age fourteen when I’d discovered porn and online fetish stores, that I was a little. And littles needed daddies.
Just the thought! A daddy, in my mind, was a big muscled tough guy who liked to dominate small twinks. I didn’t really go beyond that in my thinking because porn had been my teacher and that had been all about sex. Fake sex. If a boy actor wore a onesie and sucked on a bottle, it seemed to be played for laughs. I didn’t care to be laughed at.
My heart pounded under the covers as I hugged Ursula to me. She was another anomaly. What gay boy had a girl teddy bear? Well, I did. And it was not something I wanted just anybody to know. How would I ever bring that subject up on a date? I wouldn’t. Which meant I would have to get rid of the things I loved if I ever wanted a real boyfriend.
It seemed like I had a lot to think about. And a lot still to learn.
In the meantime, I was really looking forward to my shopping trip. On my next day off, I was taking a trip to the city to browse a hideaway store I’d found online. They specialized in kink.
Deciding to be brave, I’d already planned my attire. Christmas was less than three weeks away, so I was going to wear my sparkle Christmas tree sweater, my tight pink pants, and use the Peter Pan purse crossways over my shoulder so it would rest at my hip.
I hugged Ursula harder and smiled.
A Devilish Christmas by Silvia Violet
1
Devil
“Don’t move.” My cock slipped from Joe’s body as I rose from the bed, leaving him lying on his back, panting and sweaty.
“I’m not sure I could if I wanted to.”
“Mission accomplished.”
He flipped me off as I walked to the en suite bathroom. After taking a moment to clean myself up, I stared at myself in the mirror. I’d put this off too many times. I told myself it was because Joe had been working insanely long hours and was distracted as hell by his current case, but that wasn’t really it. I was scared—damn, I hated admitting that, even to myself—but I wasn’t going to chicken out again. If for no other reason than my cousin Angelo would never stop giving me grief. There was never going to be a moment more perfect than this one while Joe was spread out in our bed, spent and satisfied.
I opened the bottom drawer in the vanity cabinet, pulled out the small velvet box, and charged back into the bedroom before I could change my mind.
Joe was dozing, but he opened his eyes when I knelt on the bed. “Devil, why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
He studied me before replying. “Like you’re about to tell me something I won’t like.”
“You better like it.”
Joe snorted, then he noticed what I was holding, and his breath caught. “Devil?”
“Yes, baby?”
“What’s that?”
I shrugged. “You’re the detective, you tell me.”
I watched the muscles of his throat work as he pushed himself up on his elbows.
“Yes? I’m waiting for an explanation,” I prompted.
“It’s a ring box.”
I grinned. “See? I knew you were smarter than you look.”
“Tell me you’re not about to propose to me when I’m lying here covered in cum.”
“Can you think of a more appropriate time?”
Joe sighed, but when he looked up from the box and met my gaze, we both froze. The air seemed too thick, and I wondered if we’d both suffocate. At least then I wouldn’t have to take this risk, ask him this question, wonder if he’d say no. I knew what we had was good—so damn good—but did Joe really want to tie himself to me permanently?
“Is this really happening?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“You better decide soon because I’m starving, and I want my breakfast.”
I laughed. “You’ve gotten so spoiled living with me. You never used to eat breakfast.”
He just shrugged.
I hated that my hands were shaky, but I ignored that and opened the box. Joe’s eyes widened when he saw the simple gold band inside.
“You didn’t think I was going to get you something gaudy that you’d hate, did you?”
“Um…”
I held up a hand. “Don’t answer that.”
Our eyes met again, and I had to swallow before I could speak. “Joseph Daniels, will you marry me?”
Tears shimmered in his eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. Please say yes.
“Yes, baby. Of course the answer is yes. I already told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
The ring box tumbled to the bed as I pulled him to me and kissed him until we were both desperate for air.
Joe cupped my face. “I love you Sylvester Marchesi. Now put that ring on me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Call me Sylvester again, and that’s not the only ring you’ll get.”
He huffed. “That’s not much of a threat when you know what I like.”
“Damn right, I do, and no one else can satisfy you like I do.”
“Yes, yes. I did agree to bind myself to you for life after all.”
“Right.” I felt around until I found the box, which had thankfully snapped closed when I’d dropped it. I extracted the ring and grabbed Joe’s left hand.
“Should I wait to wear it until we’re actually married, or are you planning on getting the gaudy one then?”
I gave him a sly grin. “Don’t you think a mobster’s husband should look the part?”
His scathing expression made me laugh, but Joe stared at his hand, his expression serious.
“Should I get you a ring now? What are the rules for this?”
I shook my head. “There are no rules except the ones I give you.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. And I don’t want to wait.”
He met my gaze, and my heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his eyes. “To put on the ring?”
“To get married.”
“Don’t tell me you want a cheesy ass Christmas wedding.”
Joe had been horrified when he’d learned I was one of those “Christmas freaks” who loved everything about the holiday and that I intended to drag him around to all manner of holiday activities. I considered playing up his ridiculous idea, but if we were going to follow my plan, I didn’t have time for more nonsense. “Christmas? I said I didn’t want to wait. That’s weeks away.”
“How fast can you plan a wedding?”
I laughed as I slid from the bed and stood. “Get showered and dressed. We’re supposed to be at city hall in an hour.”
“What?”
“When I said I didn’t want to wait, I meant it. We’re getting married today.”
“You didn’t even know I’d say yes.”
“Of course I did.”
He raised his brows and glared. “Fine. I didn’t, but I hoped you would.”
“Damn it. You know I hate it when you give me that look.”
That look being the one that could bring Joe to his knees anytime. “Then don’t be so stubborn. Angelo is going to meet us there. Why don’t you call Lindsay and see if she’s available to be your witness?”
My former partner on the force was the perfect choice. “I’m surprised you didn’t do that for me.”
“I will if it will get you moving.”
“Your family is going to murder you.”
I pretended to consider that. “Yeah, they are, or at least Lucien and Aunt Sabrina will. Angelo is in on it, though, so really they should kill him too.”
“Sabrina will be devastated if she doesn’t get to plan this whole business.”
And Angelo’s brother, Lucien, was head of the family and expected us to run everything by him. I waved away Joe’s protest. “Like Lucien and Peter or Angelo and Cameron won’t be having a big wedding sometime soon.”
“Are they…”
“No, but I bet we’ll inspire them.”
“Or at least make them realize the price of eloping.” He took a few steps in the right direction, then turned. “Isn’t there a waiting period after we apply for the license?”
“I may have gotten the license already.”
“Without me there?”
“I’m a Marchesi. I always get what I want.”
“And you signed my name for me?”
I pushed him toward the bathroom. “Get in the shower.”
Joe looked like he was going to protest more. Instead, he changed the subject. “I thought you wanted me to call Lindsay.”
“You can do that while the shower heats up.”
“So pushy.”
“You’ve known that since the day we met, and you still said yes.”
Joe pulled his phone from the pants he’d discarded last night before holding me down and fucking me into submission. I watched his naked ass as he disappeared into the bedroom. Damn, I loved that man.
“Hurry up. You don’t want to be late for your own wedding.”
Ellie ThomasEllie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical romance.
Ellie also writes historical erotic romance under the pen name L. E. Thomas.
Clare LondonClare London took her pen name from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with her other day job as an accountant.
She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with award-winning novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters.
Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter-three stage and plenty of other projects in mind… she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.
Clare loves to hear from readers, and you can contact her on all her social media.
Sarah Hadley Brook lives smack-dab in the middle of the Heartland and is the mother of two wonderful young men, as well as two cats. During the day, she works in the nonprofit world, but reserves evenings for her hobby-turned-passion of writing, letting the characters she conjures in her mind take the lead and show her where the story will go. When not working or writing, she can be found reading, working on dollhouses, trying her hand at new recipes, or watching old movies and musicals. In her ideal world, Christmas would come at least twice a year, Rock Hudson and Doris Day would have costarred in more than three movies, and chocolate would be a daily necessity. She dreams of traveling to Scotland some day and visiting the places her ancestors lived. Sarah believes in “Happily Ever After” and strives to ensure her characters find their own happiness in love and life.
Hi, I'm Wendy and I'm a voracious reader as well as an author.
Currently, I write all male/male romances and am lately focused on omegaverse. For many years mm has been my first love.
The stories of my characters rattle around in my brain until I have to write them down or lose sleep!
All my books are available in Kindle Unlimited. Happy reading!
Silvia Violet writes bad boy M/M romance. She can be found haunting coffee shops looking for the darkest, strongest cup of coffee she can find. Once equipped with the needed fuel, she can happily sit for hours pounding away at her laptop. Silvia typically leaves home disguised as a suburban stay-at-home-mom, and other coffee shop patrons tend to ask her hilarious questions like "Do you write children's books?" She loves watching the looks on their faces when they learn what she's actually up to. When not writing, Silvia enjoys baking sinfully delicious treats, exploring new styles of cooking, and reading to her incorrigible offspring.
She also writes high heat paranormal romance with shifters of all descriptions under the pen name Silvia Onyx.
Ellie Thomas
Clare London
B&N / GOOGLE PLAY / SMASHWORDS
EMAIL: clarelondon11@yahoo.co.uk
Sarah Hadley Brook
PINTEREST / SMASHWORDS / B&N
Wendy Rathbone
Silvia Violet/Silvia Onyx
EMAIL: silviaviolet@gmail.com
Home for Christmas by Sarah Hadley Brook
B&N / KOBO / GOOGLE PLAY
A Little Christmas: Rivi by Wendy Rathbone
A Devilish Christmas by Silvia Violet
