Showing posts with label mpreg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mpreg. Show all posts
Sunday, July 26, 2026
Saturday, July 25, 2026
🎅🎆🎄Saturday's Series Spotlight - Xmas in July🎄🎆🎅: A Reindeer Mate for Christmas Part 1
Reindeer Mate for Life
I thought the snow was preventing me from getting home. Instead, it brought me straight to it.
I never count on the weather report to be accurate, but when they predicted something between a dusting and a half inch, I thought I could make it the rest of my way home. I thought wrong. My car is barely making it on the flat terrain, and I’m about to head into mountain country when I see an old sign for Santa’s Lodge. It’s time to say uncle and hunker down for the rest of the storm.
Only, when I pull up to the inn, it looks like someplace time has forgotten. If not for the man carrying an armload of firewood, I’d have thought the place vacant. I grab my bag, expecting to pay a huge amount for a last-minute booking only to walk in and discover the entire building is under renovations with one exception: the owner’s residence.
He offers to let me ride out the storm there, but I politely decline. As I’m about to leave, the emergency sirens on our phones go off. All roads have been closed until further notice. Looks like I’m taking him up on it after all.
Snowed in at Santa’s Lodge is an M/M mpreg shifter holiday romance featuring a reindeer shifter who inherited one mess of an inn, the human who stumbles by long before they are guest ready, a whole lot of snow, the week they will never forget, true love, fated mates, cookies galore, tinsel-filled festivities, the sweetest puppy, enough Christmas lights to lead Santa’s sleigh on a foggy winter night, Christmas magic, an adorable baby, and a guaranteed happy ever after. If you love your omegas filled with the holiday spirit and your alphas willing to do whatever it takes to be their ultimate Santa, download your copy today.
Snowed in at Santa’s Lodge is part of the multi-author, gay romance, mpreg shifter A Reindeer Mate for Christmas series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but why stop at one when you can read them all?
Summary:
Reindeer Mate for Christmas
When Christmas magic meets destiny, love grows evergreen.
Human Reed Keller is one bad season away from losing his family's Christmas tree farm when a stranger arrives with a lifeline.
Roscoe Curran’s reindeer shifter pack needs to lease land, providing money that will save Reed's farm. When a reindeer Christmas carol triggers Roscoe into a partial shift, he reveals he’s not human. But this reindeer shifter is keeping more secrets about their fated mate bond, Christmas magic, and why his pack needs to be settled before December 24th.
Some Christmas miracles come with antlers, others arrive with a man who talks to his prized trees, while a few take a ride across the night sky on Santa’s sleigh.
Jingle Bell Mate is a steamy MM mpreg Christmas romance. If you love stories featuring an alpha reindeer shifter who grows antlers at awkward moments, a human omega whose best friends are trees, a secret the land has been keeping for over a generation, a pack that becomes found family, a sighting of Santa, and an adorable baby, download this book now.
Jingle Bell Mate is part of the multi-author, gay romance, mpreg shifter A Reindeer Mate For Christmas series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but why stop at one when you can read them all!
Summary:
Reindeer Mate for Christmas
Alpha reindeer shifter, Theo, almost ruined Christmas. Literally.
Now Theo has twelve days to help a random person find the spirit of Christmas or Santa will expel him from a coveted internship in the North Pole. He finds the perfect target in Shaun, a young business-owner more concerned with turning a profit than being festive. But somewhere in the middle of trying to get Shaun to fall in love with Christmas, Theo realizes he might just be falling in love with Shaun…
Omega snow leopard Shaun loves all things Christmas. In fact, he loves it so much that his father has decided that if Shaun can’t prove he can turn off his festive side, he’ll cut Shaun out of his inheritance. For the next twelve days Shaun has to run his future resort without a single holiday distraction. His unexpected roommate, Theo, is as Christmas-crazy as he is attractive, and under any other circumstances Shaun would be head-over-heels. Luckily, it doesn’t take Shaun long to figure out that Theo must have been hired by his father to sabotage him. He’ll prove to both of them what a grinch he can be, even as Theo starts to melt his heart.
Unbeknownst to them, Theo has given Shaun more for Christmas than either bargained for: a gift that comes with nine months of cravings, mood swings, and nausea...
How to Lose an Omega in Twelve Days is a cheesy Christmas movie in book form, with two shifters who are confidently wrong that they can outsmart each other. Their mix-up is your holiday ticket to a cozy read with enough spice to warm you up.
How to Lose an Omega in Twelve Days is part of the multi-author, gay romance, mpreg shifter Reindeer Mates For Christmas series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but why stop at one when you can read them all!
Snowed In at Santa's Lodge by Lorelei M Hart
Chapter One
Ragnar
My grandfather was one of my favorite people in the entire world. When I was a little calf and my father, his son, disappeared from our life, Granddad stepped in and took over as the man of the family. He felt responsible for us, I was sure, but he never once complained or treated me as if I was a burden. Something my own father had been very good at.
Mom tried to do it all herself, but Granddad somehow made her feel as if we were doing him a favor—a white lie I believed myself until I was much older. He supported us financially, helped Mom with chores around the land, and taught me reindeer lore. I thought life was perfect until I turned sixteen and Mom met a new mate. Granddad, with all the grace he’d exhibited my whole life, stepped away to let her live hers. My stepdad was fine, treated my mother well, but I was too old for him to be anything more than her person. I’d had a dad, not great, and a granddad who was great. Not looking for number three to bond with. Not at sixteen.
My grandfather bought a lodge deep in the mountains. Several hours away from us, far enough that I only saw him on summer and winter breaks and, as I grew up and left home, taking on a job and my own responsibilities, even less frequently. Something I regretted when I got the notice from his attorney that he’d passed on and left me everything he had.
Everything was the lodge and a little money. He’d planned to fix the place up and make it a real destination. Granddad’s long white beard and round belly made him look just like Santa Claus, and when we were out and about, years before, I always got a real kick out of kids running up to tell him what they wanted for Christmas. It didn’t help that he played into it and wore a red hooded sweatshirt a lot of the time.
And now he was gone, and with it his dreams of making Santa’s Lodge a place where families would want to spend their holidays. Not all shifters were into Christmas, but a surprising number were. Cozy family times appealed to most people, I thought. Or they should.
I had only been here a couple of months and when I first walked up the drive, I was shocked at the condition of the place. It hadn’t been so many years since I saw Granddad, but the last few visits, he’d come to me, and not only had he not done anything to improve his lodge, it needed immediate repairs if it was going to withstand another winter.
He’d always said we’d run the lodge together. Called me his reindeer elf. We would make drawings of how it was going to look when it was finished. Where Santa’s throne would be, and the hot-chocolate bar. The cookie-decorating station. A model train would run all the way around the main rooms on a track mounted near the ceiling.
Presents. Everyone who came to stay would get one on Christmas morning.
Had Granddad given up on the project because of his age and physical condition? Or because I had grown away from it?
A glance upward revealed the dark gray of snow clouds blanketing the sky. We’d already had enough of the white stuff to stick, but a few flakes drifted down to promise more. The ladder I stood on, chipping away at caulking, swayed in a sudden gust of wind. I’d hoped to get more done today, certainly a lot more before winter totally closed in and made it that much harder, but if I fell fifteen feet to the ground, I’d break something that a simple shift wouldn’t fix.
I glanced at my watch, brushing a few snowflakes from the face. Then looked up at the sky again. I probably could last another half hour up here, as long as the wind didn’t gust too much. So, I tightened my grip on the scraper and redoubled my efforts. It would be ideal to replace the windows, but that would have to wait for another year. For now, I was trying to get everything at least winter-ready and as waterproof as possible. So painting the outside, replacing the caulking, and, well, I had a long list. I’d never get through it all, but my best would have to do.
Pausing, I zipped the hoodie up to my chin and patted the worn fabric. Granddad’s old clothes were good for doing jobs like this, I told myself, not willing to dwell on the comfort I received from the last traces of pipe tobacco scent. The old man could have stepped in to act in a production of ’Twas the Night Before Christmas with all his quirks.
I missed him hard. When he came to visit, I’d tried to show him the town and take him all the best places, but he always shied away from fancy. “Let’s go to the diner around the corner again,” he’d say. “You work too hard for your money to spend it all on me.”
He never even told me about his heart. Or that the healer said it was failing. And that there was nothing to be done about it.
But since I couldn’t go back and be a less neglectful grandson, I promised myself to make his dream, our dream together, a reality. Thus giving up my big-city job and coming here to invest my savings and elbow grease into making Santa’s Lodge the coziest, most welcoming place to spend the holidays—or any day of the year!
Trying to make my savings stretch involved doing everything possible myself. Some of my former coworkers with whom I stayed in touch on social media tried to convince me that I should take out a loan and hire professionals, cut the time down and be ready to open sooner. Start making money, but Granddad had been adamant that wasn’t the way to go. He never borrowed a dime in his life, which was why the lodge had no loans on it. It needed a whole lot of work, but there was nobody coming to foreclose anytime soon. Or ever.
A few flakes landed on the windowsill, but it wasn’t bad yet, so I kept working, wanting to finish this one window if possible. And I did, but not because of the time limit I’d given myself. Once I’d gotten out the old caulk, I taped plastic over the window. New caulk would have been ideal, but it would have to wait until the storm ended.
Climbing down, I held onto the ladder as the wind buffeted it. A microburst that ripped the plastic from the window. Perfect. I’d have to cover it from the inside and hope it didn’t do too much more damage.
The winter would be spent working on indoor repairs, but I had rather wished for a little more for the outside. The patched roof would either hold up or it wouldn’t, but the angle should keep the snow from building up too much.
My job in the city was behind a desk, the only tools my laptop and phone. Granddad and I had made a lot of plans but never did any actual construction-type work. I wasn’t actually sure if he had the skills or planned to learn them down the line. Me? YouTube had videos of handy folks who could do anything and got their kicks and probably living out of showing those of us who did not know how. So far, it had gotten me through a lot of the general painting and the roof patch as well as one broken pipe that threatened to flood the second floor.
I’d had a run in mind for the afternoon. The snow was getting thicker, the winds wilder, and my reindeer loved the idea. I might be tired and ready to sit by a fire, but he was prancing inside me, anxious to get going.
Then something happened that neither of us could have seen coming. A rattletrap car chugging toward us. The beater belonged in the junkyard, but the omega who climbed out of it belonged on the cover of a magazine.
Jingle Bell Mate by Colbie Dunbar
ONE
REED
I'd been talking to Douglas for about twenty minutes when I chuckled and slapped my brow. I was probably losing my mind but hey, if this was me cracking up, it wasn’t a bad place to be.
“The thing is,” I adjusted the string of Christmas lights that had tangled around Doug's lower branches overnight. How the heck did that happen? Perhaps Santa’s elves were playing tricks late at night when I was asleep.
“Anyway, I know you want to make some family happy for Christmas. But Mrs. Ledger already picked out that Blue Spruce over in Section C, and Doug, don’t be disappointed. You’ll find someone to love you.”
Doug rustled his needles which I interpreted as an agreement. The morning breeze helped, but I was convinced he had opinions about these things. Maybe it was his branches leaning toward me or how his needles were more radiant after our morning chats. Aunt Mollie used to insist the trees responded to kindness, and after spending three years with them, I agreed.
I admired my handiwork with the lights. Every year, I decorated as many of the trees as I could so the farm, Right as Rain(deer), would appear more festive. Aunt Mollie had started the tradition and though she’d been gone for three years, I was continuing it. The Christmas tree lot was more alive with lights scattered throughout the rows of evergreens, and I wanted first-time visitors surrounded by a winter wonderland.
Right as Rain(deer) was kinda an odd name for a Christmas tree farm—Aunt Mollie had people tell her over the years she should change it— but my aunt maintained the soil on this land was special. She loved to tell the story of seeing reindeer wandering through the lot on her first Christmas Eve here. I was pretty sure that was a tall tale but I had loved hearing it every December and had adored her quirky personality.
The winter air carried the sharp scent of pine and the earthier smell of decomposing leaves from the oak trees that bordered the property. I moved closer to check Doug's watering system, making sure he was getting enough moisture to keep his needles fresh and vibrant.
“You're going to make someone's Christmas magical.”
The phone buzzed in my pocket. Probably another bill I couldn't pay. Perhaps it was my friend, Gemma, telling me how I should sell the place and get a real job. Her latest voicemail had included a suggestion that I could work at her husband's accounting firm. Ugh!
Being cooped up in a tiny cubicle instead of being outdoors with the trees would be nightmarish. I refused to throw away the time and effort it’s taken to keep this tree farm running.
I ignored the phone and moved onto the paths between the Fraser Firs. Each section of the farm had its own personality. The Noble Firs were tall and dignified. The Frasers clustered together as if they were gossiping while the Douglas Firs sprawled out, holding their heads high because they were haughty and proud of themselves.
Right as Rain(deer) had been in my family for more than thirty years. Aunt Mollie had bought the land on a whim after inheriting money from a relative. She planted her first seedlings with no idea what she was doing and turned the place into a beloved Christmas tree farm. She talked to the trees as if they were her children, commiserating with them on bad days and celebrating their growth spurts.
Three years after inheriting this unprofitable farm, I understood. The trees did listen and they responded to kindness. But being nice to my trees didn't pay the mortgage.
The numbers were getting worse every month. The seasonal income from Christmas tree sales barely covered the property taxes, let alone the equipment and maintenance along with the endless repairs to the old farmhouse. I'd been supplementing my income with jobs in town, ones I could do outside because I’d stifle in a cubicle, similar to a tree left without water. But the money wasn't enough and the bank had been sending threatening letters.
Aunt Mollie had brought in extra income from renting out the cabins over the hill. But I’d stopped that practice because the buildings needed extensive repairs.
I made my way over to the Noble Fir section, where Noelle was showing off her perfect symmetry.
“Morning, Noelle. You're looking majestic today.”
Her branches swayed gently in response. She was going to be somebody's centerpiece this year if I could keep the farm running long enough to find the right family.
The rattle of loose stones on the driveway interrupted my morning routine. A car door slammed followed by footsteps. My stomach dropped. Please don't be the bank. Please don't be someone from the county.
I wove between the Fraser Firs and tried not to trip over the extension cord powering the office's ancient heater. The little wooden building that served as an office looked kinda bleak in the morning light with its peeling paint and dirty windows. But Aunt Mollie's hand-painted sign above the door, “Welcome to Right as Rain(deer)” gave me the courage to meet my guest.
The tall man with dark hair standing beside a black sedan had a jawline that needed to be stroked and peppered with kisses, and I stared at him for longer than I should have. I was intimidated by the confidence that radiated from him, which was helped by his caramel-colored coat that I wanted to run my hands over. I hunched my shoulders, protecting myself from whatever he was going to say.
He was studying the farm and he did a 360, taking in the decorated trees, the old office building with holly growing near the door, and my home enclosed with a fence and an old gate that hung on one hinge.
I tensed, thinking he disapproved but I’d like to see him try to run this place and make a huge profit, especially when most of my trees were balled and burlapped (B&B) so families could enjoy them inside for Christmas and plant them in the garden afterward. They were more expensive than cut trees but they were environmentally friendly. But I did have smaller ones in pots for apartments that were cheaper.
When the guy turned his gaze on me, it was as though I’d been zapped with a stun gun. Yikes. If his glance did that, I wondered what his… Whoa. Nope I wasn’t going there.
“Can I help you?” I jogged the last few steps, trying not to appear as frazzled as I felt while pine needles clung to my flannel shirt. “If you're looking for a tree, you're welcome to browse.”
“Reed Keller?” That voice suggested he knew who I was and I braced myself for whatever bad news he was here to deliver.
“That's me.” I wiped my hands on my jeans, aware of the contrast between us. He was wearing a smart coat and I’d been wrestling with Christmas trees. At least I smelled good from pine sap.
“Are you from the county? Because I filed all the paperwork, and if there's an issue with the lighting display—”
“I’m not.”
Okay, so he had to be from the bank though no banker from town ever looked like this guy. They wore suits, and ties that were askew because they were fed up having to travel outside town or they’d taken two wrong turns before getting here.
He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder. I glared at it, wondering how its contents would change my life, and willing him not to open it.
“My name is Roscoe Curran. I represent a group that's interested in this property.”
Gods not another one. He may as well have tossed ice water over me. I shivered and stamped my feet before tucking my gloved hands under my armpits.
“You're here about buying the farm.”
Hearing why he’d come wasn’t a shock because I’d been getting calls, letters, and visits for months from developers and investors who'd heard that the farm was struggling. They were all the same with their name brand sunglasses and confidence they’d secure the deal and turn the land into a housing development or anything other than a Christmas tree farm.
“Not exactly.”
Roscoe glanced at his feet as he shuffled them. Was he embarrassed at my distress because me blinking away tears was broadcasting how upset I was?
“I’d like to discuss a potential arrangement regarding this property, if you have time. My ummm clients are looking for suitable land, and this farm has qualities that might work for everyone."
I studied the rows of trees. Doug’s Christmas lights were still tangled but Noelle was showing off her branches. My gaze trailed over the dozens of other evergreens I'd nurtured. Looking in the other direction brought me to the office where Aunt Mollie's coffee mug still sat on the windowsill. I swiveled to take in the wooden sign she'd made for my eighth birthday that said “Reed's Corner” and marked the spot where she'd let me plant my first seedling.
“Mr. Curran.” I straightened my spine because I was not going to let anyone bully me, not that he had as yet. “I’ll be honest, if your clients want to buy this place and turn it into condos or a shopping center, I'm not interested. This farm means everything to me.” It was my life.
There was something about his eyes, how they surveyed me as if he was looking right through me and I shoved my hands in my coat pockets. He probably thought I’d ask where I could sign as I was desperate for money. I was in debt but I was hanging on by my fingertips.
“I understand your attachment. But what I'm proposing isn't about taking the farm away from you. My clients need land but they're not developers. They're a community group and they would help to preserve what you've built here.”
A gust of wind swept through the farm, stronger than the gentle breeze that had been rustling the branches earlier. All the trees swayed and their needles ‘sang’ in harmony. I couldn’t understand what they were saying but it had to be disapproval, though it was charming, making me want to dance. But no way would my trees welcome this man and his group here.
Roscoe’s face reminded of the expression deer in the headlights. His head snapped to the side and he studied the trees as they waved their branches. There was a faint smile on his face. But the wind died and the trees quietened.
“Would you like coffee?” Shoot no, why had I said that? This man and his jaw needed to leave and find someone else’s land. Not that I wanted anyone else to be taken in by that jaw.
“It's freezing out here, and we could both use some caffeine. Fair warning, though I make terrible coffee.” I was rabbiting on like I was making a new friend.
Roscoe searched my face before he replied. “Coffee would be great.”
He sounded uncertain but if he’d spent hours or days trawling the countryside for land to snatch away from people buried by debt, he probably didn’t get offered coffee.
As I led him toward the office, I caught him glancing at the trees. Did he just nod? No one else did that but me. That was weird. But I talked to them like they were my friends, so I couldn’t judge him. Instead, I was open to hearing more about his community group even though my answer at the end of his spiel would be no, no thanks and another no thank you.
The trees rustled softly as we walked past and I shrugged and mouthed, “What?”
How to Lose an Omega in Twelve Days by Kallie Frost
Chapter One
“Jake Winter”
Our laughter turned into horrified gasps as the giant candy cane began to fall the wrong way.
“Oh, no. No, no, no…” Theo moaned.
I held my breath as the massive hunk of sugar crashed down onto the runway. It shattered into a billion shards of red and white. As the peppermint scented dust cleared I heard a sound. I knew what it was immediately. In fact, it was one of my least favorite sounds: cracking ice.
Sure enough, a large crack suddenly cut through the ice of the runway. And kept going. It took an eternity, or maybe just a few seconds, for the perfectly smooth runway to turn into a jagged pile of ice. The thing looked like a giant ice maker had just dumped out tons of ice into a pile.
“Well, well, well,” boomed a voice from behind us.
Maybe if I didn’t turn around…
“Theobroma Jingle,” the voice continued. “And…”
“Jake Winter?” I offered pitifully, turning around.
Santa narrowed his eyes at me and I knew that he knew. He was Santa, after all. He always knew.
“Santa,” Theo cried. “I’m so sorry! It was an accident! We were just… just…”
“I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” Santa said gently. “But, unless we can fix this runway before Christmas Eve… I don’t know if I’ll be able to get the sleigh off the ground.”
“I’ll fix it, sir,” I said quickly, rolling up my sleeves. I loved a good prank, but I wasn’t above cleaning up my messes either. But, as I surveyed the damage, trying to figure out where to start, I knew the shattered runway wasn’t going to be easy to fix.
Santa shook his head. “I’m afraid this is too much ice, even for you.”
“Are we going to be expelled?” Theo asked.
“Not today,” said Santa slowly. “But, I cannot simply let this go without addressing it either. Play time is over this semester,” he added firmly to me. “I suggest that you stay out of the way until Christmas.”
“Yes, sir. Yes. I should uh… go decorate some windows or… something.” I spun in a tight circle and vanished in a puff of snowflakes before he could change his mind.
I didn’t go far, however. I materialized in a tree nearby and leaned down to see what happened to Theo. He was a good kid, I didn’t want to get him in trouble.
“Where did he go?” Theo cried. “How did he do that?!”
Santa laughed. It wasn’t quite his usual jolly belly laugh, but I figured if he was laughing, then he must not have been too upset about the ruined runway. And, hopefully, was optimistic about Christmas. “Ah Theo, you’ve just met the North Pole’s most infamous prankster. And a good thing too. If Jack hadn’t been with you, you would be expelled now. But, seeing as he was involved, I can’t be too upset with you.”
“Jack? You mean Jake?”
“I mean Jack,” Santa corrected. “Frost.”
Theo let out an audible gasp and looked around as if he expected to see me. “Jack Frost? The Jack Frost?” he said.
I couldn’t stop a smile at his excitement. When things calmed down, I’d have to go reintroduce myself.
Theo was one of a handful of students enjoying a coveted, highly competitive winter internship in Santa’s Village. I sometimes liked to disguise myself as one of them and cause mischief. It usually didn’t end up with anything this bad happening though.
“That’s right,” Santa replied. “The Jack Frost. Now… what do we do with you?”
Theo cleared his throat nervously, but said nothing.
“Let’s do this the old-fashioned way, Theobroma. Enjoy the rest of your evening and get ready. Tomorrow you’re going down south.”
“Down… south?” Theo echoed in dismay. I winced. When St. Nick said “down south” he meant way down.
“Yes. I want you to find someone who has lost the spirit of Christmas and rekindle it for them. You have twelve days.”
“But Christmas is in twelve days!”
“It is. I’ll pick you up on my Christmas Eve route. You’ll have to find someone in need of cheer quickly. Help them find joy in the holiday season and you will remain here to finish out your internship. Fail, and when you return, you will pack your bags and return home.”
Theo stammered a moment, but nobody argues with Santa. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled.
“Don’t you have windows to frost?” Santa suddenly said loudly.
Why I ever thought I could get anything past him, I’d never know. I winked away. Far away, this time.
I found myself in another tree and looked around a ski resort. A very green ski resort.
“I think this place needs some fresh snow,” I said out loud.
With that, I got comfortable on my branch and settled back as the temperature dropped and the snow started falling. As I watched my handiwork, I brainstormed a way to make it up to Theo. Sure, Santa had gone easy on him, but missing out on the days leading up to Christmas in the North Pole would stink. I sat there, lost in thought until the sun started to set, casting a dreamy glow over the snow.
“I don’t like snow either.”
The annoyed voice drifted up to me and I narrowed my eyes at the sentiment. Excuse you! Who doesn’t care about snow?!
I leaned down to see a sour-faced young man pulling a suitcase out of a car nearby.
“Suit yourself. Merry Christmas!” called the driver.
“Bah! Humbug!” retorted the cranky guy.
He slammed the trunk and stomped off toward the main entrance. I shook my head and made the snow fall harder out of spite.
“Someone needs to get into the… spirit…” I said, trailing off as a brilliant idea struck me.
Saturday Series Spotlight
Lorelei M HartLorelei M. Hart is the cowriting team of USA Today Bestselling Authors Kate Richards and Ever Coming. Friends for years, the duo decided to come together and write one of their favorite guilty pleasures: Mpreg. There is something that just does it for them about smexy men who love each other enough to start a family together in a world where they can do it the old-fashioned way ;).
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?
Kallie is the pseudonym of a USA Today Bestselling Author who normally writes young adult fantasy and dabbles in paranormal romance. She loves animals of all kinds, so she loves reading and writing books with shifter themes. Her favorite time to write is late at night when her husband and kids are asleep and everything is quiet. During the day she can be found chasing her boys, baking, and talking to herself.
Lorelei M Hart
Snowed In at Santa's Lodge by Lorelei M Hart
A Reindeer Mates for Christmas Series
Tuesday, July 21, 2026
🎅🎆🎄Christmas in July 2026 Part 3🎄🎆🎅
🎅💕🎅🎆🎄🎇🎄🎆🎅💕🎅
I've been doing a Christmas in July series for a few years now and always hope to feature holiday stories that I have recently re-read but once again, time had other plans. For my Christmas in July 2026 series, I'm featuring another 20 of my favorite Christmas set LGBT reads. I say "Christmas set" because some may not really be holiday-centric but set, at least in part, during the holiday season and for me that is all it takes to be a Christmas read(and yes, I'm in the "Die Hard is a Christmas Movie" camp😉). If by chance, I've had opportunity in the past to re-read or re-listen, I've included the original and the most recent re-read review. As always, the purchase links are current as of posting but if they no longer work for a dozen different reasons, be sure to check out the author's website/social media sites for the latest links. There are genres of all kinds here, whether you are a holiday lover or perhaps you just want to read something set in cooler weather on a long hot summer night, either way there is something for everyone here.
🎅💕🎅🎆🎄🎇🎄🎆🎅💕🎅
Summary:
Slow Burn Holidays #2
It’s only a matter of time until Christmas works its magic on them...
Jack and I lived together for our entire twenties, friends so close that everyone just assumed: if we weren’t already together, we would be soon. Honestly, I believed it too.
Then Jack got married. I was his best man. Jack moved in with his new wife. And I was alone.
Four years later, with Jack’s terrible marriage over, we're roommates again—and it's all too easy to slide right back into the rhythm and comfort of living together. But something is different this time. Warmer. Closer. And just like before, everyone can see it.
When we agree to host my parents for the holidays, the slow countdown to Christmas wraps us in all the cozy, intimate warmth of holiday preparations. There are so many almost moments I think I might go mad… along with all our friends and family, who have been watching this dance for far too long. But when a friend talks me into buying Jack a romantic Christmas gift, the old fear comes rushing back. Revealing my feelings seems so dangerous, even after all these years. Especially now that I know what it’s like to lose Jack.
Have I waited too long? Is the risk too great? Or could this Christmas be the day we finally admit what’s been between us all along?
Say It Out Loud is a 19,000-word low-angst M/M romantic novella featuring roommates-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, meddling friends and family, warm Christmas feelings, and a super steamy and romantic first time. All books in the Slow Burn Holidays series can be read as standalones and in any order.
Original Review January 2024:
Generally(and by "generally" I mean 99.999% of the time) I'm a read-in-order kind of series gal, even a series of standalones, there's just something about "out of order" that seems out of whack, what can I say😉? On the odd occasion the "out of whack" happens I've never been lost, never missed anything and Say it Out Loud is no different. I featured Out Loud in my Random Tales of Xmas posts in December but just didn't have time to read it even though I skipped ahead and read book 3, Sing in the New Year for my New Year's post. So I can honestly say this trilogy really is a group of standalones even though the couples do seem to be friends.
So on to Say it Out Loud. As with the other two in Nico Flynn's Slow Burn Holidays, there is a certain amount of lack of communication mostly due to fear of lost friendship. I'll admit when an author goes the route of communication issues it can go sideways but when written realistically it can be magical. Let's face it, even when we're at our most honest we've all had communication hiccups and it's easy to say for an outsider/reader to scream "Just talk to each other!" but it isn't always easy to do. So again, when written right it can be a very special story and IMO, the author has written it right.
If I'm completely honest, I see Out Loud as more of a friends to lovers/right time, right place story more than lack of communicating. With Ezra getting what he sees as the perfect romantic Christmas gift to help him jumpstart the convo over loving and being in love with Jack forever, I can't help but love the big, adorable, scared goof and wrap him in the biggest Mama Bear Hug ever.
I don't know if the author has plans for any more holidays in this Slow Burn Holidays series but if there are more, I'll be sure to read them because I'm a sucker for a heartwarming, sweet, smile-inducing tale of love.
Summary:
Young couple Ellis and Casey’s Christmas is set to be a lean one. Struggling financially, they’re only able to manage the most basic needs for their holiday celebration. They can’t afford luxuries like a turkey. Or decorations. Or presents. Between the recent death of Casey’s beloved momma, and Ellis’ estrangement from his family, all they have is each other.
When Ellis finds the saddest looking Christmas tree south of the Mason-Dixon line thrown outside his workplace and brings it home to Casey, things look up. Because what more do you need to have a Merry Christmas than enthusiasm, ingenuity, and someone to love?
Short, cute, believable, and oh so super duper sweet. The whole Charlie Brown-like tree is a wonderful setting for Red Popcorn Strings and Gumball Rings. Would either like a bigger tree? A proper holiday lunch? Gifts under the aforementioned tree? Sure, of course they would but at the same time, this tiny, forgotten tree that was probably days away from "recycling" is perfect for Casey and Ellis. So much joy and happiness in this little holiday short that will leave you happy, smiling, and looking for what's important. It may be short in quantity but it is long on quality.
RATING:
Summary:
For Sam, every moment counts. Life is precious and finite. He’s grateful for every second and hasn’t taken anything for granted for the past five years. With his two best friends, lovable cat, and his bucket list, he’s determined to value every experience and all the people around him. Even the grumpy new town resident who Sam can’t leave alone, no matter how many times the handsome man tells him to.
Lukas is a vampire exhausted with humanity, bored with everything, and wishing the council would put him out of his misery. Instead, they gave him orders that had him moving to a small town with a lot of nosy people. His love of ice cream is the only reason he begrudgingly deals with humans—one of whom in particular he can’t seem to shake.
Together, Sam and Lukas awaken parts of themselves they never knew existed. With each passing day, Lukas unknowingly helps Sam cross something off his bucket list. But just when life seems perfect, it comes crashing down.
For the first time, Lukas wants forever so he can spend it with Sam, only to hit roadblocks at every turn. Sam has come to terms with his fate. Born on the edge of goodbye, the only thing Sam isn’t prepared for is falling in love and the possibility of leaving it all behind.
The Edge of Goodbye is a standalone M/M paranormal romance with a strong HEA and no cliffhanger
I'm going to start off by saying, Davidson King has done it again. Such an emotional and powerful journey. Next, I'm going to get a little personal here, The Edge of Goodbye is amazing but I'll be honest, I should not have read this right now. On January 13th, it'll be a year since my mother passed away and reading hasn't held the same pull for me this year as it usually does but that isn't why I should have waited. The reasons behind Sam's journey(I won't spoil it for anyone so I won't mention specifics) may be different than my mother's but I could see so many elements that resonated in our daily lives. There came a point where I just broke down completely and that was when I knew I should have set this aside before beginning. I won't say it broke me but it probably was as close as anything has in 2025 AND YET I couldn't stop. I'm not a DNF reader, I've been known to set a book aside for multiple reasons but I always come back and finish it but I just couldn't do that with Goodbye. The heartache was worth it and frankly, that probably speaks louder volumes about how amazing this story is than anything I can come up with. I have no triggers when it comes to reading and watching but if I did, this probably would have been one of them, so be sure you're prepared for the heart hurting before the heartwarming. Truth is, the tears Sam's journey brought to the surface probably helped more than they seemed at the time and for that, I say, Thank You, Davidson King, you didn't heal my heart but you helped fill a notch.
Okay, now to the story.
As I said above, I won't spoil anything but I'll mention a little. Sam might rub a few the wrong way, he can be a bit overwhelming and borderline pushy but I get why he's that way. As an introvert, I don't think I could be that way in his situation but I applaud his fight and determination to enjoy every second of life. On the other side, Lukas comes across as grumpy and borderline(maybe not so borderline at first) rude but I can also understand why he is that way too. Being able to make the reader see both sides of the personality ruler is just another example of King's storytelling and world building talent.
As a paranormal lover, I've read many ways authors have created their own vampire lore. I loved how King uses the Hollywood folklore we all associate with vampires to build her own. I can honestly say, Lukas' love of ice cream is one I can see myself partaking in if I was a vampire too. Again, I won't spoil the lore she created so you'll have to read it for yourself to see if you would agree with Lukas or not.
This might have the smallest supporting cast of any of King's works but each played a part, none were a page filler, and they all helped paint a picture that was believable(which in a paranormal genre sounds an odd thing to say but no less true).
Don't let my initial paragraph scare you, The Edge of Goodbye, is one not to be missed. I probably should have waited to read it for personal reasons that came close to breaking me but at the same time, I couldn't stop and when I swiped the last page, I found a crack in my heart that wasn't as big as it was when I started. Whether you choose to be a part of Sam and Lukas' journey now or later, just know you don't want to miss it. It may seem heavy at times but it's entertaining from beginning to end and that's all I ever ask for.
One last side note: I have added this to my Xmas shelf even though the holiday is a tiny blip in wordage but as I am in the "Die Hard is a Christmas Movie" camp, I view my readings the same, if the holiday is mentioned than its holiday story.
Anna Martin's Xmas Shorts #5
Jack Daly owns a toy shop nestled away down one of Bath’s cobbled streets, and he has big plans: in the new year, he’s going to expand to include a book shop. So when a seasonal pop-up shop selling children’s books opens on the other side of the street, he’s livid — is he about to lose everything he’s worked so hard for?
Oliver Rowe would much prefer to be writing books than selling them, but since writer’s block hit he doesn’t have much choice. With his agent breathing down his neck and inspiration at an all time low, all he can do is daydream about the grumpy toy shop owner who won’t stop scowling at him.
I started the year with Single Bells before bed and when I woke up a few hours later, Mistletoe & Whine seemed the perfect way to jumpstart the day. This may be the shortest entry in pages but so chock full of quality that you don't notice the shortness. This entry was from 2023 but it's my last one, I have now read all of them and I am anxiously awaiting 2026's holiday entry all ready. 11 months to go . . . Xmas never seemed so far away.
This has a nod to You've Got Mail feel a bit with the competing book sellers and yet nothing more than that is the same. I don't know if the author had any inspiration from the film or not but I couldn't help but feel a bit of a homage element to it. Frankly, this is so much better but still it brought memories back.
Jack and Oliver have what I like to call a snark and cuddle initial meet but unlike a lot of the characters I put the label to, the snark is brief but definitely makes for a cute meet. Again, this is a perfect entry in the author's Christmas Shorts series that will make you chuckle, smile, and leave you warm-hearted when you reach the last page. Perfect holiday reading that will entertain any time of year.
Summary:
Holiday Surprise #8
Justin's dating life has just gone from bad, to worse.
Justin's never had the best luck meeting alphas, and for more than a year it's been a string of disappointing dates. So when he meets a seemingly nice guy at a charity party for the Valle Granja Art Museum, he thinks his luck has changed. Instead he finds himself trying to ghost a man who refuses to take 'no' for an answer.
Max can't help but protect the omega living in his apartment complex.
Max is newly single, and still rying to find out what signs he missed before his last relationship ended. However all those thoughts come to a screeching halt when he finds his neighbor hiding on his porch. He quickly learns that the omega is scared of another alpha, and decides that he'll do whatever is needed to protect the handsome man.
However, will Justin return Max's feelings as they shift from protection to attraction?
Tinsel Time Treasure is a 35K word , non-shifter, M/M, mpreg, omegaverse romance
Content note: A stalking ex-partner plays a role in this book. Therefore it may not be suitable for readers sensitive to this topic.
Original Review December 2024:
I haven't read all the entries in Lacey Daize's Holiday Surprise series but of the one's I've read I can honestly say Tinsel Time Treasure probably has a bit more darker-ish undertones. They aren't "in your face" details but the things Justin finds himself facing are not sweet but they do lead to something, or someone, that has the potential to be brilliant.
Max of course is going through some things that have left his heart hurting too and when these two meet, the chemistry is so much deeper than alpha/omega, protector/protectee, it's a bit all encompassing which isn't exactly where either party is heart-ready but sometimes fate knows best.
A delightfully fun, heartwarming tale with moments of heartache to make this mpreg realistically beautiful, as realistic as mpreg can be anyway, truth is by the end of the book you almost believe it to be real, an wouldn't our world be different if mpreg did in fact exist. Tinsel Time Treasure leaves you smiling and wanting to give both parties huge Mama Bear Hugs to let them know everything is going to be as it's meant to be.
Say it Out Loud by Nico Flynn
Chapter One
Tess Navarra is a woman on a Christmas mission, and I am firmly in her clutches. I've begged, I've bargained, but she refuses to be swayed.
I'm currently backed into a corner of an adorable bakery draped in gauzy fake snow and cheerful twinkling fairy lights, pinned there by the force of her glare. She presses her lips together into a thin line and stares me down.
"Ezra, you knew my opinion on this when you texted me this morning. I'm not sure why you thought it would change in the last..." She checks her watch. “Six hours?”
"Because your opinion is stupid and I hate it," I say with absolutely no whining in my voice. I pull my coat tighter around my thin frame, my shoulders rounded in what is definitely not a petulant sulk, and shove past her, out the door, into the chilled evening air. Tess jogs after me, blinking against the flurries of fine snowflakes that land in her eyelashes. As soon as she catches up, I try another tactic.
"How about a—"
She cuts me off. "No. Unless you're going to say a kiss, a card that includes the words 'I'm in love with you,' or you're planning to put a bow around your own dick—"
"Oh my god, you are the most mortifying human—"
She barrels on, completely ignoring the glare of a passing middle-aged man in an unfortunate scarf. "If it's not one of those things, then Jack doesn't want it, and I don't want to hear it."
I scowl. She makes it sound so easy. Like Jack and I don't have years of baggage working against us. We met in our freshman year of college when we were in the same core requirement history class. We started living together our sophomore year, then got a place off campus our senior year and just... stayed there. We have all the same friends. We've traveled together, spent holidays with each other’s families... and I've been in love with him the whole time.
Well, probably. There were a few years there in the beginning where I swore we were just really great friends. Best friends, the kind you have for life. In hindsight, though... I'm pretty sure it's always been more than that.
I just didn't realize it until Jack started dating the woman that would become his wife.
If we really were just best friends, then being the best man at his wedding would have been one of the highlights of our friendship. Instead, the day he asked me was one of the worst I've ever had. The whole experience left me sick. It was right after one of our biggest almost moments, too, the night of Jack’s twenty-seventh birthday, when we’d had way too much whiskey and I nearly fucked up our entire friendship.
I guess in the back of my mind, I thought we would always be together. Even throughout the whole wedding preparation year, I kept thinking... this will all go away. Something will happen, the wedding will get called off, and everything will go back to normal. I always thought... eventually, it'll just happen. We'll get there.
We didn't get there. Jack married Hannah four years ago. He moved out, and I stayed. We were still best friends, but he had a wife. Things were different.
Then they split up six months ago, though Jack was uncharacteristically vague on the 'why' of it. He moved back in a few months later. And now, everything is almost back to normal.
Almost.
"Look, Tess," I say, struggling to master my temper. "I’m not going to turn Christmas morning into some kind of grand romantic gesture. Especially not while hosting my parents. And you’re one to talk. You’ve been mooning over Imani’s sister for the last year. Why do you have to keep picking at this?"
"Because, Ezra—"
She snags me by the crook of my arm and tugs me to a halt. The grumbling, holiday-rushed crowd pushes us against the wall of yet another glittering shop, this one full of toys and delicate ornaments and a thousand other things I study intently instead of meeting Tess's gaze.
"Because you've been through enough," she says, her voice low and gentle. "The both of you have been through so much, and it's time to just be happy, okay?"
My throat goes thick, and I blink hard until the lights through the shop window lose their blur.
“It’s not like I’ve just been waiting around. I’ve dated. I have a job I love, and a seat in the orchestra—"
She cuts me off.
"It's time, Ez. You asked for my help, and I'm giving it. Let yourself be happy." She runs a comforting hand down my arm, then takes a deep breath and steps back. "Now, why don't we—"
I slip away before she can finish that sentence, already halfway across the street before she starts to follow. The light changes, and she gets stuck on the other side of the crosswalk while I disappear into the craft beer and wine shop I spotted in the reflection of the window. I have an idea. Maybe it's a stupid one... but it's the only idea I've had all day. It's worth a shot.
I must give off helpless vibes, because seconds after I stop in the middle of the store, a woman with a kind smile approaches me.
"Shopping for a gift?" she asks.
"How could you tell?"
She shrugs, eyebrows raised. "Just a lucky guess. Who's it for?"
"It's, uh..."
This question shouldn't be hard. It's for my roommate? It's for my best friend? It's for... the man I've been in love with for my entire adult life? I don't know how to answer without spilling way more than this poor woman asked for. She seems to sense my internal angst and comes to my rescue, thankfully.
"Is it for someone... special?" she asks delicately.
My cheeks go hot, and I look away, sure it's written all over my face.
"Possibly," I say, then immediately have to fight the urge to run away. Before I can flee, the woman's smile deepens. She waves for me to follow her.
"I think I know just the thing," she says as we weave through aisles of craft and imported beer toward the wine section. "Do they like red wine?"
"He does," I say, and the urge to flee overtakes me again as soon as I realize that I've just come out to this random stranger, which shouldn't be a big deal but always feels like it. She doesn't react at all, though, just scans a rack of red wines and gently withdraws a bottle with a quiet 'ah hah!'
"This merlot is deep and rich,” she says, angling the bottle for my inspection. “Beautifully seductive color, full-bodied flavor, very warming. It's a fantastic wine for a special occasion, or... a night in."
The flush spreads from my cheeks to the tips of my now burning ears, but I nod, a vision of Christmas possibilities unfolding in my mind. This wine, the right atmosphere, a touch of bravery, and maybe…
"I'll take two," I say, once my throat lets me.
Tess sidles up and bumps her shoulder against mine, having finally caught up. She nods at the wine.
"Good choice.”
I slide my card across the checkout counter and can't help the tiny, private smile that curls at the corner of my mouth.
"We'll see," I say.
The snow is falling in earnest by the time we get home from our shopping trip, my cheeks wind-burned and my hair dusted with fine powdery flakes. Tess and I chat on our shared front porch for a moment, then head for our respective doors. Jack and I have been renting this same duplex since college, and when our terrible previous neighbors moved out we begged Tess to apply to rent the other unit. One good word to the landlord later, and she was in. Good thing, too, because it made things at least slightly less desolate when Jack moved out.
I unlock the door, and a warm, sweet scent immediately fills my senses. What is that? Chocolate? As soon as I step inside, I see him. Jack, standing in front of the stove, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon and humming quietly to himself. My heart gives a painful contraction at the sight of him, so perfectly at home here, as much a part of this place as the walls. Some part of me is still expecting him to leave again, to come home one day and find it empty and quiet.
But he’s here.
"Welcome home," Jack says in that warm southern drawl of his. He doesn't look up, intent on whatever his project of the day is—the man can never just sit still and relax for an afternoon. I should reply. Thanks, or hello, or something.
Instead, I flee into my bedroom, darting past Jack with something like guilt or embarrassment twisting in my stomach. I practically slam the door behind me and shove the wine under my bed like a porn magazine hidden from a parent.
What am I doing?
I slump onto the floor next to the bed, forearms propped on my knees, waiting for my heart to stop trying to break out and fly away. Somehow, having the wine in the same physical location as Jack makes the reality of giving it to him, drinking it with him, so much more immediate.
Honestly, there’s probably nothing to worry about. It's wine. Jack will drink it and completely fail to understand the significance. He'll be a little confused, but he'll say thank you, compliment the wine's characteristics, appreciate its color without ever applying the word seductive like the woman in the shop did.
Things will continue as they always have.
I'll want him. Jack will be oblivious.
Fine.
But... agh. Tess's words are like a nagging fly I can't shake. On our walk home, I actually tried to backpedal and make her take the wine. The look she gave me was so fierce I thought she might eat my face off.
"Look, I understand that before he got married, you had lots of reasons to doubt,” she’d said. “But I just don't understand what you're so afraid of now."
I'd barked a harsh laugh right in her face, shaking my head.
"How am I not supposed to be afraid? I could lose my best friend. Again."
"You're not going to lose him, Ez. He's a sure bet. You have nothing to worry about."
"So everyone keeps telling me. Everyone thinks they know. But do they really? How sure are all of you?" I'd had to pause and rein myself in, hearing the ragged edge of hysteria in my voice. "No, I think it's a lost cause. If he wanted me, I'd know by now. I need to let this go. Jack isn't interested in me like that."
"Then why did he come running right back to you as soon as his marriage was over?"
"He's only been back for three months. They've been broken up for six."
Tess had hesitated for a moment then, setting off alarm bells in my brain. But she’d continued.
"He wanted to come straight back to you. But he didn't want you to feel like he was only coming back because he had nowhere else to go. He wanted you to know he was choosing to live with you again because it's what he wanted."
If only I could believe that.
"I think you're reading too much into the situation."
"It's literally what he told me. I'm not 'reading into' anything."
"But he never told me that."
"Because you are two thirty-something men who can't figure out how to talk about feelings. At some point, Ez, you're going to have to open your mouth and say words, and I can't help you with that."
I was grumpy and silent the rest of the way home, digesting that bit of info. Against my better judgment… it does give me a bit of hope.
And yet, here I am, sitting on my bedroom floor and running a thousand scenarios through the logical machinery of my brain. As always, I’m getting nowhere. It’s been a lifelong problem; I’m either thinking with my math brain or I’m drowning in my feelings. It even came out in my choice of college majors. I majored in math but minored in music because I couldn’t bear to put down the flute entirely. Everyone always said, ‘oh, yeah, there’s so much math in music!’
But they don’t understand. To me… I just can’t integrate them. They’re wholly separate parts of me that can’t seem to take possession of my body at the same time. Even now, I have a day job running probability models and managing statistics for a climate nonprofit. But I have a seat in the community orchestra, too.
Logic and feelings. And I can’t make myself accept logic where Jack is concerned, so my feelings just… overwhelm me.
Maybe I need more opinions here. Tess is too close to the situation. Maybe a different friend. I pull one of the wine bottles back out, snap a picture of it, then send it along with a text to one of the only people who might understand what I’m struggling with. Our friend Oliver is a genius scientist who finally just got together with his boyfriend, Chris, after years of pining. Maybe he’ll have some insight.
Ezra: Is this a terrible idea? Too obvious?Oliver: Not obvious enoughOliver: Get out a sharpie and write I FUCKING LOVE YOU on the label and you'll be halfway there.Ezra: Shit, if that's halfway then what's all the way??Ezra: Never mind, please don't answer thatOliver: Look, I know it’s terrifyingOliver: But it’s worth itOliver: Trust me
Ugh, smug bastard. He’s been like this ever since they got together. The sex must be really good.
Ezra: Easy for you to say. Chris did the wooing. All you had to do was be wooed.Oliver: Wooed? What are we, 16th-century ladies of the court?Ezra: I regret texting youOliver: Most people doOliver: But look, I DO know what it’s like to not trust what your eyes are seeingOliver: And to be too afraid to hope that it might be trueOliver: But you have to trust Jack, and trust the rest of usOliver: It’s going to happen. You just have to say something.
Ugh. It’s Tess all over again. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the bed, letting the tide of my feelings carry me out to sea. Jack. What am I going to do? Can I really go through with this?
A knock on the bedroom door startles me from my thoughts.
"Ez? You okay? Are you busy?"
Shit.
I shove the wine back under the bed and scramble to my feet, schooling my features into something less obvious, then crack the door open. A hand holding a cheery red mug pushes through.
"Come on," Jack sings, waggling the mug as much as he can without spilling. "Come join me. I built a fire in the fireplace, and I just made real hot chocolate from scratch. Try some."
My throat constricts at the sight of Jack's warm, crinkled smile, so all I can do is nod and take the mug, following him out into our living room. Jack picks up his own mug and goes to stand by one of the big windows overlooking the road. After a moment of hesitation, I join him. I'm careful to place myself a comfortable distance away, but Jack ignores it and shifts closer until our arms brush with each sip of hot chocolate. Outside, the fine powdery snow shifts to fat, wet flakes, falling in a thick rain over the dusted streets.
"Beautiful, right?" Jack asks. "I wonder if we'll get snow like this for Christmas."
He turns to me, as if I could possibly provide the answer to such an impossible, changeable thing... and my gaze falls to his lips. My mind automatically maps out the motions needed to bring our mouths together, the possible actions and reactions, the—
I drag my eyes back up to Jack's, finding them soft and glowing with something. And I think of the wine. Of that full-bodied flavor on Jack's mouth, of seductive red, warmth in my belly, first kisses, and laying Jack down in front of the fire while a winter wonderland swirls outside our window.
I take in a shuddering breath and lean away from Jack, bracing my forearm against the window. A topic of conversation, something to distract, anything, what can I say...
"My parents want to stay here for Christmas," I blurt, knowing the surprise of it will knock Jack off balance. I wasn't planning to bring this up until later, but needs must. “Instead of a hotel. They want a ‘cozy Christmas at home.’”
Jack predictably flounders, his mouth gaping open for a long moment. "What, here as in our house? Where will they..."
Jack pauses, his face shadowed with disappointment and hurt. "I guess I can call my sister, see if I can spend Christmas Day with them so your parents can stay in my room and—"
"No," I interrupt, half-panicked. "Stay. Please. They want to see you, too. I already talked to Tess and she’s going to let them sleep there while she’s out of town. Please stay here."
Okay, I’m practically begging now. Does this count as talking about feelings? I feel like I should get credit for this. Regardless, I catch the quirk of a small smile at the corner of Jack's mouth.
"All right, Ez. I'll stay, if you're sure you want me to."
Ha. As if we don’t all already know that I want him around at all times. I think back to the wine bottles hidden away under my bed and swallow hard, the anticipation of merlot on my tongue.
"Yeah. I really do."
Red Popcorn Strings and Gumball Rings by Nell Iris
Back out by the door, he got down on the floor to put his sneakers on — no shoes inside, thank you very much — and noticed something under the Christmas tree.
He abandoned the worn sneakers and knee-walked over to check the item. It wasn’t very big, so he got down on all fours to see better.
It was a ball: a little bigger than a ping-pong ball and wrapped in newspaper. It hadn’t been there yesterday when they’d gone to bed, so Ellis must have sneaked it under the tree this morning.
He sat back on his heels and his hand flew to his mouth.
Ellis had gotten him a gift for Christmas!
Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He didn’t wipe them away; he just sat there. Staring at the newspaper-covered ball.
What could it be?
He threw himself on his stomach and crawled as close as he could while making sure not to tangle his hair in the low-hanging branches. A message scrawled with a red marker in Ellis’s almost illegible writing greeted him: merry xmass boo.
Next to the writing, he’d also drawn a small, crooked heart, with one arch much bigger than the other.
Casey couldn’t keep his hands off it. He traced the heart with his finger, wanting nothing more than to tear off the paper and see what Ellis had gotten him. But he didn’t, of course.
Instead, he crossed his arms on the floor in front of him and rested his head down. Watching the present, he exhaled a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.
He still had no idea what to give Ellis tomorrow. Considering he had absolutely no money, what could he buy?
Untangling one of his hands, he reached out and enveloped the ball, but resisted the urge to shake it. He just held it in his hand, and somehow it made him feel closer to Ellis.
He shouldn’t be surprised that Ellis had gotten him a present. He knew how much Casey loved Christmas, how desperately he missed his mother, and was sad that there wouldn’t be any knitted socks wrapped in plain brown paper for either of them this year.
Of course, he’d found a way to cheer Casey up.
Casey let go of the present and wiggled his way out from under the tree. He supposed he could always resort to giving Ellis stupid coupons like he’d given his momma when he was a kid. But instead of one month of doing the dishes, it could be stuff like one hour of hard ass-fucking or a promise of rimming Ellis until he screamed Casey’s name and shot his spunk all over the place. He could even draw dirty pictures on the coupons to illustrate the gifts.
He nodded to himself. It would have to do. But next year he’d buy Ellis a real present.
Casey jumped off the floor, took one last longing look at the ball before he pulled on his shoes and went out for his run.
He abandoned the worn sneakers and knee-walked over to check the item. It wasn’t very big, so he got down on all fours to see better.
It was a ball: a little bigger than a ping-pong ball and wrapped in newspaper. It hadn’t been there yesterday when they’d gone to bed, so Ellis must have sneaked it under the tree this morning.
He sat back on his heels and his hand flew to his mouth.
Ellis had gotten him a gift for Christmas!
Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He didn’t wipe them away; he just sat there. Staring at the newspaper-covered ball.
What could it be?
He threw himself on his stomach and crawled as close as he could while making sure not to tangle his hair in the low-hanging branches. A message scrawled with a red marker in Ellis’s almost illegible writing greeted him: merry xmass boo.
Next to the writing, he’d also drawn a small, crooked heart, with one arch much bigger than the other.
Casey couldn’t keep his hands off it. He traced the heart with his finger, wanting nothing more than to tear off the paper and see what Ellis had gotten him. But he didn’t, of course.
Instead, he crossed his arms on the floor in front of him and rested his head down. Watching the present, he exhaled a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.
He still had no idea what to give Ellis tomorrow. Considering he had absolutely no money, what could he buy?
Untangling one of his hands, he reached out and enveloped the ball, but resisted the urge to shake it. He just held it in his hand, and somehow it made him feel closer to Ellis.
He shouldn’t be surprised that Ellis had gotten him a present. He knew how much Casey loved Christmas, how desperately he missed his mother, and was sad that there wouldn’t be any knitted socks wrapped in plain brown paper for either of them this year.
Of course, he’d found a way to cheer Casey up.
Casey let go of the present and wiggled his way out from under the tree. He supposed he could always resort to giving Ellis stupid coupons like he’d given his momma when he was a kid. But instead of one month of doing the dishes, it could be stuff like one hour of hard ass-fucking or a promise of rimming Ellis until he screamed Casey’s name and shot his spunk all over the place. He could even draw dirty pictures on the coupons to illustrate the gifts.
He nodded to himself. It would have to do. But next year he’d buy Ellis a real present.
Casey jumped off the floor, took one last longing look at the ball before he pulled on his shoes and went out for his run.
The Edge of Goodbye by Davidson King
Chapter One
Sam
“I’m gonna do it!”
The little boy on the other side of the counter shouted, “No!”
“It’s happening.” I was trying hard to hold in my laughter.
“Please, Sammy, no gummy bears!”
“How can you have a Berenstain Bears crafted cone without bears, Lewis?” I lowered my hand and dumped the gummy bears into the small bowl.
“I love the Berenstain Bears, but gummy bears are gross.” He scowled. Lewis couldn’t have been older than six. He came in every Saturday with his grandpa to Cone Crafters Ice Cream Shop, where I worked. And every week, it was a different order for Lewis.
“Hmm.” I tapped my chin. “What are your feelings on Teddy Grahams?”
His eyes widened, and his voice filled with wonder. “On an ice cream cone?”
I shrugged. “Why not? What, are the ice cream police going to come and arrest me?”
He giggled, and his grandpa ruffled his head. “No.”
With a solid nod, I stuck the cone into the holder and rushed to the storage room, where there was a box of Teddy Grahams. I got four of them and returned. Lewis watched with a huge grin on his face as I strategically placed each bear. They were bigger than gummy bears, and it was difficult but here at Cone Crafters, we specialized in extreme ice cream architecture.
“Bam!” I stepped away, my fingers spread wide. “Look at that.”
Lewis and his grandpa clapped. I grandly handed the cone over to the boy and then regarded his grandpa. “What are you having today?”
“Nothing so extravagant. Perhaps just a cup of rum raisin.”
“You got it.”
Once I had the two of them squared away, I grabbed a rag and washed down the area. It got sticky fast and while I loved creating cool cones, I hated being sticky.
“Sam. Oh my God, Sam!”
I turned just in time to see my best friend Natalie rushing through the back room over to me, her hands flapping, a huge, excited expression on her face. She had her blond hair in her typical ponytail, and her glasses were all askew.
“Nat, what’s up?” I chuckled when she practically barreled into me, stopping half an inch away.
“Lancaster Island.” She pointed toward the storefront window. Cone Crafters was across the street from the water, and through the glass you could see the island with the huge mansion on it. From what I’d heard, it had been vacant for the last twenty or so years. The only way on or off it was by boat, and while I often saw a speedboat come and go, it was likely just a cleaning crew or something.
“What about it?”
She squealed. “Someone is moving in!”
“Really?” Now I was excited. I was so curious about that house. It was never for sale and one day Nat and I had gone digging for info to find it had been in the Lancaster family name for generations. Yet, for as long as I could remember, no one had lived there.
“Yes…a long lost Lancaster, perhaps?” She squeezed my hand, vibrating with happiness.
“That would be so freaking cool.”
A voice cleared, and we both turned. Natalie’s father, the owner of Cone Crafters, was staring at us, one eyebrow raised, obviously trying to hold back a smile.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, Mr. Johnson.”
“You’re being a little loud.”
I scanned the shop. Only Lewis and his grandfather were here, and they weren’t paying us any mind.
“Were we disturbing the air?” I asked with a smirk.
“You’re a smartass, Samuel. If I didn’t love you like my own son, I’d swat you.”
“Sorry, sorry. But did you hear?”
He nodded. “I think the whole town heard the news from my daughter.”
She playfully glared at her father. “You have to admit, it’s cool and mysterious.” She began making ghost noises.
“You both act like you’re still teenagers.” He sighed.
I held up my pointer. “I’m a post teenager.”
His brow crinkled. “You’re twenty-five.”
“Mmhmm…barely out of my teenage years, wouldn’t you say?”
He rolled his eyes and tossed a rag at me. “Get to work, you brat.”
I caught it and as soon as he was out of earshot, I whispered to Natalie, “What do we know?”
“Nothing. You know Kim who works for Chester Real Estate?” I nodded. “I bumped into her when I was picking up dry cleaning, and she told me someone was moving in but it wasn’t sold, that it appears someone from the Lancaster family is likely moving in.”
“She doesn’t know who?”
“Nope.”
“Weird.” I faced the window again, gazing at the island that was far out but not so much that we couldn’t see the monstrosity of a house. “I wonder if Ben knows.” He was our third, and he worked at the library.
Nat snapped her fingers. “Brilliant!”
“I’m off work in an hour; then we can head there and see if he knows what’s going on?”
She tapped the counter and cackled. “Yes!”
An hour and a half later, we were sitting at a table at the library and talking to Ben, who had some information for us.
“Lukas Farren is moving in there. He’s some CEO or owns like a hundred companies. Anyway, he’s the current homeowner.”
Natalie cocked her head. “Not a Lancaster?”
Ben shook his head. “I dug a bit, and it appears the Lancasters married out so much that there is no one who officially has that last name.”
“Do we call it Farren Island now?” I looked from Ben to Nat.
“You can’t just rename a property.” Ben chuckled.
“Do you think he’ll come to shore or skulk in his big mansion away from the common folk?” Natalie asked.
“No idea. I didn’t have time to dig much into Lukas Farren.” He cut the air with his hand. “I’m actually working here.”
“You’re the head librarian. Don’t you have bookworms to do your bidding?” I scoffed.
“Um…that’s not how it works.”
“Okay, but, like, is he moving in with a family? Is he alone?” Natalie was giddy, and I too was eager to know more.
“No idea. I just know this Lukas guy is now the island’s resident. Like I said, I am working, and I have other things to do.”
“Fine, fine. Well, maybe tomorrow we can investigate.” I shrugged. I supposed one day would be okay.
Ben frowned. “Can’t. Emily’s parents are visiting. We’re telling them she’s pregnant.” Upon saying it out loud, his face brightened. Ben was the only one of the three of us who’d gotten married, and now he was going to be a dad. He was good-looking in a nerdy way, which people totally dug. Curly brown hair, bow ties and all that.
“Oh, that’s exciting!” I reached out and squeezed his arm. “No problem. Nat and I will do some detective work and let you know what we find.”
He nodded. “I don’t work Tuesday. Maybe we can meet for lunch and put together everything we have.”
“Plan.” Nat put her hand on the table. I covered hers with mine and we waited for Ben. A beat later, he rolled his eyes and laid his hand on mine. “The power of three,” we all cheered in various tones.
“You’re dorks.” Ben stood, but he smiled. “See you later.”
When he was gone, Nat and I faced each other, and she spoke. “Wanna see if Clark’s taking his fishing boat out tomorrow morning and snag a ride?” That was a brilliant idea.
“Yes!”
We had the beginnings of a plan. It was exciting and mysterious. I had a bucket list, and one thing on there was to solve a mystery. This was totally going to have me scratching that off.
Mistletoe & Whine by Anna Martin
The rain floated down outside—a fine, gentle, misty rain that clung to eyelashes and soaked through socks in moments—and inside in his shop, Jack Daly scowled fiercely at the activity across the street.
Festive Children’s Book Shop! the banner screamed in garish red.
Closing Christmas Eve!
Jack’s scowl deepened.
People rushed down the cobbled alley, obscuring Jack’s view in flashes of jewel-coloured coats, black umbrellas, armfuls of shopping bags. The terrible weather clearly hadn’t put anyone off coming out to get some Christmas shopping done.
The bell above the door jingled and Jack forced himself to paste on his professionalsmile as a woman clattered in with three children in tow.
“We’re just looking,” she said, warning them and flashing Jack an apologetic grin.
The kids were already running away from her and if they had heard, they were pretending they hadn’t.
The Magic Toy Shop had been open for a little over four years now, and Jack had a solid business plan of slow and steady growth. The shop was nestled down one of Bath’s twisting cobbled streets, which gave the whole area a quietly magical feel, and at this time of year, when the Christmas lights were strung between the buildings, the magic was dialled up a little higher.
The kids seemed initially less interested in the toys as they were in the slide and the treehouse—something that was vitally important when Jack had been drawing up the designs for the shop. The treehouse, and the slide, and the crawl-spaces between the shelves that kids loved to hide in. The antique wardrobe with the false back, where it was practically required to push aside the faux-fur coats to get to the next room and look at the rows and rows of fairy dolls and ugly gnomes for sale.
It was as much an experience as it was a shop, and Jack had plans, damn it, for a second-floor bookshop next year.
And now this… this… amateur across the street was going to throw a spanner in his plans and Jack thought he was entirely justified in being annoyed by that.
“We’ll just be five minutes,” the woman said, and Jack forced himself to pay attention to his customers. “They’ve been begging to come here since we got into town.”
“It’s fine,” Jack said with a smile, waving away her apologies. “I didn’t put a slide in just to turn away kids who want to play on it.”
“I’ll be back on Wednesday,” she said in a low voice. “To get the last of the shopping done when they’re in school.”
“If you need me to put anything aside for you just let me know,” he replied. “You can send me a message on Instagram if that helps. I can arrange for home delivery, too.”
“Why would anyone want home delivery?” she said, shaking the water from her cropped brown hair. “I want to go down the slide.”
Jack laughed. “You’re welcome to.”
“Kids!” she yelled, turning away from Jack and towards the squabbling which had broken out around whose turn it was. “Time go!”
The kids made the appropriate protests but trudged obligingly towards the door. The woman turned back and grinned at Jack over her shoulder.
See you Wednesday, she mouthed at him. Then, to the kids, “Come on, we’ll have a look in the book shop before we go home.”
Jack’s returning smile turned into a scowl.
It was practically theft, was what it was. He’d established this shop and built his presence here. He’d done the outreach and worked with the children’s hospital in Bristol and painstakingly built his social media presence until The Magic Toy Shop had been listed as one of the top five toy shops in the UK by the Guardian.
Instead of moping, Jack forced himself to get up from behind the counter (polished oak—his granddad had come out of retirement to make it for him bespoke) and tidy up the display of stuffed animals and their adorably quaint matching clothes that he imported from a small business in Romania.
That had been part of the plan he’d refused to budge on, even when everyone was telling him he needed to move with the trends. The shop wasn’t filled with ‘plastic tat’, as his friends with kids had called it, or whatever was the latest must-have toy of the season. He worked with suppliers from around the world to offer unique or bespoke or limited edition toys that you couldn’t just order online for half the price. The shop was a lifestyle brand, and deliberately so.
The sun set early these days, but the steady stream of customers lasted right up until he closed the doors at six—later than usual for December, so people could stop in after work for some last minute shopping. Some came in with the intention of dropping a few hundred pounds on Christmas gifts, some others just wanted to play in the treehouse, and both types of customer was fine by him. As far as Jack was concerned, footfall was footfall. He’d lost count of how many times someone had warned a child that they weren’t buying anything today, and the kid had left with one of Jack’s distinctive black card bags with the black ribbon drawstrings. He’d joked plenty of times that the magic of the shop was the ability to change parents’ minds.
Once the displays were tidy and everything was ready for the next morning, Jack started to close down. His evening routine was quiet and familiar, flicking off the lights, transferring the receipts to the safe, pulling down the shutters and locking them.
The drizzle had stopped, thank God, but the cobbles were still slippery and Jack grabbed the gold door handle as he stepped outside to make sure he didn’t end up on his arse.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Jack forced himself to look up.
It was the bastard thief from across the street.
Jack hadn’t managed to get a good look at him until now, and of course he was ridiculously handsome, because that was what bastard thieves looked like in all of the Hollywood movies. He was tall and broad-shouldered with golden stubble over his jaw and pretty pink lips.
“I’m fine,” Jack said tightly.
“Ooo-kay,” he said, pushing his stupid floppy hair back from his stupid beautiful face. “I’ll see you around.”
“Hopefully not,” Jack muttered and stormed away—in the wrong direction—down the street before the book shop guy could follow him.
Tinsel Time Treasure by Lacey Daize
Chapter 1 - Justin
~October~
Iforced a smile as the alpha across the table droned on about how bad his ex was—which was never a good sign on the first date.
The language was another red flag. He was using whatever terms he could to dehumanize the poor man who’d been with the insufferable bastard, and I could see why the other omega bailed after only a couple months.
“Sluts like him just don’t understand that alphas have needs,” he continued. “I’m never dating a prude like that again.”
Was he a slut or a prude? I wondered to myself. The terms kinda cancel each other out.
“You understand, right?”
“Umm…” I started, scratching my short dark beard.
“Of course you do,” the alpha continued before I could come up with an answer. “You look like a proper omega: one who knows his place in a relationship.”
I replied with a nervous chuckle, then felt a wave of relief as I saw a waitress approaching our table.
“Excuse me,” I said softly. “I’d like to wash my hands before we eat.”
“Um… ok,” he replied, obviously put off by my interrupting his sexist monologue.
“I’ll be right back,” I promised.
He nodded as he picked up his silverware to start eating.
Of course he wouldn’t wait. Why would an alpha ever wait for an omega?
I pretended to hurry, and as soon I was in the relative privacy of the restroom I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent a quick text to my best friend, Kaleb.
Disaster date! Call in five and give me an excuse to leave.
I received a thumbs-up emoji almost immediately. I quickly deleted the messages so that there would be nothing there if my date tried to protest and demand to see my phone. Then I splashed some water over my hands so that they would be cold and slightly moist if he wanted to check that I’d actually washed them.
“Sorry,” I replied as I took my seat again, adjusting my glasses where they’d slid down my nose.
He merely nodded, staring at his phone.
I noticed that half his meal was already gone, and my pile of fries looked suspiciously smaller than it had been when I’d left the table.
“This looks great,” I said as I picked up my burger.
“It’s ok,” he shrugged and scrolled something on his phone. “It’s edible. Next time I’ll introduce you to something better.”
Not gonna be a next time, I thought as I chewed and nodded.
My date continued onto a tirade about how restaurant quality had gone down over the past several years, and somehow he tied his rant to more omegas in the workplace. Something about how with omegas working there were more customers, meaning that cooks had to make food faster, thus resulting in lower quality.
I could have cried with relief when my phone rang.
My date scowled as I pulled it out of my pocket, not recognizing the hypocrisy that he’d just been on his own phone.
“Kay?” I asked, putting on a concerned voice. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
Kaleb snickered. “Putting it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
“Oh Kay,” I sighed. “I’m so sorry. How old was she?”
“If your date is buying this, he must be all of five.”
“Sounds like she had a good life.”
Kaleb wailed on demand, loud enough that one of my date’s eyebrows rose.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” I announced. “You wrap yourself in a blanket and I’ll pick up your favorite ice cream. Is there a date for the funeral yet?”
Another wail from Kaleb.
“I’ll wait with you until your mom calls with more details.”
“Thanks Just,” Kaleb sniffled exaggeratedly. “I’ll see you soon.”
I hung up the call, noting the deep scowl on the alpha’s face. I pulled out my wallet, estimated my half of the meal and threw some cash on the table.
“You’re leaving?” my date asked incredulously.
“Sorry. My best friend just lost his grandmama, and they were super close. He’s devastated.”
“We’re in the middle of a date!”
“And he’s at home, sobbing his eyes out.”
“He can call somebody else.”
“He doesn’t need to, because I’m going.”
I walked away before my date had a chance to respond. I’d figured out almost immediately that he was a pig, but any man who argued with the ‘dead relative’ excuse was automatically upgraded to piece of shit.
Sure, it was a lie, but that was one of those situations where a person should be believed. Though I bet he had more sudden emergencies during dates than not.
I got into my car and placed a to-go order from Cluck Hut—fried chicken for me and a chicken pot pie for Kaleb, then I drove to the nearest grocery store and grabbed a couple pints of Rocky Road.
It was only about twenty minutes after his call that I pulled into the parking lot for his apartment and carried our food to his place.
“Uh-oh,” he said, eyeing the bags.
“Yeah,” I sighed as I carried them in and set them on the table.
“How bad was it?”
I passed over his chicken pot pie, and he shook his head. “Damn.”
“He tried to argue that I shouldn’t leave.”
“The fuck?”
“Yeah.”
Kaleb stood, put the ice cream in the freezer, and returned with plates and silverware.
“So who did I lose this time?” he asked.
“Your grandmama.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I swear, she has more lives than a cat.”
“How’s she doing?”
He laughed. “Fine, no thanks to you.”
“Say hello for me, and tell her I killed her off again.”
“Can do.”
“So besides arguing with the dead relative escape, what else was wrong about this one?”
“Shall I start with the ex-bashing, or the blatant sexism.”
“Oof. Sorry Justin.”
I shook my head. “What can I say? I’m just doomed to date all the worst alphas.”
“You’ll find a good one eventually.”
I snorted. “Maybe if I switch to female alphas. But…”
He nodded. “Yeah. They’re pretty, but not my thing either.”
I sighed and plowed some chicken into my mouth.
“Well, you’re here,” Kaleb said. “We can spend some more time working on your costume.”
“Works for me.”
My luck with alphas sucked, but at least I had Kaleb.
Nico FlynnNico Flynn is all about stories that are heartwarming and steamy in equal measure, always with a healthy dose of humor. Bring on the snappy banter, mutual pining, and well-earned happy endings!
Nico lives a wild life out in the country with too many dogs, a family, video games, and a whole lot of books. If new releases suddenly stop, you can assume Nico was swallowed up by an out-of-control tomato plant or eaten by a bear.
After years of writing across age groups and genres in the traditional publishing arena, Nico is thrilled (and terrified) to finally be taking this first step on the indie side. It's a wide and wonderful world out here!
Nell IrisNell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, short over long, and quirky characters over alpha males. She published her first book in 2017.
Nell is an author with a day job that steals too much time from her writing, her reading, her gardening, and her crocheting. She’s an introverted tea drinker who loves her family, her books, and her home in the Swedish countryside.
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
Anna Martin is from a picturesque seaside village in the southwest of England and now lives in the Bristol, a city that embraces her love for the arts. After spending most of her childhood making up stories, she studied English literature at university before attempting to turn her hand as a professional writer.
Apart from being physically dependent on her laptop, Anna is enthusiastic about writing and producing local grassroots theater (especially at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, where she can be found every summer), going to visit friends in other countries, and reading anything thatís put under her nose.
Anna claims her entire career is due to the love, support, prereading, and creative ass kicking provided by her best friend Jennifer. Jennifer refuses to accept responsibility for anything Anna has written.
Lacey DaizeLacey lives in New Mexico with her four critters. She’s a Jill-of-all-trades by day, but loves writing in her spare time. She dabbles in a variety of pairings, but jumped feet-first into the deep end of omegaverse the first time she read it. She loves the play on social expectations and the different ways to express romance.
Nico Flynn
EMAIL: nicoflynnauthor@gmail.com
Nell Iris
Davidson King
Say it Out Loud by Nico Flynn
Red Popcorn Strings and Gumball Rings by Nell Iris
The Edge of Goodbye by Davidson King
Mistletoe & Whine by Anna Martin
Tinsel Time Treasure by Lacey Daize
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