💜Sunday's Short Stack💜: Cinnamon Eyes by Nell Iris

Summary:
Cory’s had a rough year struggling with severe depression. He’s desperate to rebuild his shattered life and break away from his demanding family. When his therapist encourages him to do something for himself, he knows exactly what he needs. I want to see Asher again. The best friend Corey ever had who, at fifteen, held Cory’s heart in his hands without knowing it.

Asher’s had a troubled relationship with his father since he came out. Now that Pops is sick, he’s fighting for his right to help or even find out about his father’s health. Then there’s the complication of an ex-boyfriend unwilling to let go.

When Cory and Asher meet again after sixteen years, Cory’s feelings are as strong as ever. But does Asher feel the same?

Original Review August 2017:

Cory is looking to start over so when his therapist gives him an assignment to do something for himself that makes him happy, the choice is a no-brainer.  Asher may own and run his own bar but his relationship with his father has been on shaky ground ever since he came out so when an old friend comes in looking for him, his reason to smile is genuine.  Will their childhood friendship be enough to bring happiness to Cory and Asher's lives after all these years?

I am going to start by saying that I wanted to wrap Cory up in bubblewrap and never let him near his family ever again.  I can't imagine being surrounded by family where appearance and stature takes precedence over health and happiness but the author has definitely conveyed the pain that Cory feels perfectly.  As for Asher and his dad, well I unfortunately know what it's like to be that stubborn but I still loved the fact that Asher does not give up and walk away from his father.

Now, some might think Cinnamon Eyes is a bit on the rushed side but I don't because I firmly believe in kindred spirits, that there is some in our lives that no matter how long its been between contact, when we meet again its as if there was no time at all since we last said hello.  So despite the sixteen years that has happened since Cory and Asher last talked, there connection is there, its real, and very believable.  Cinnamon Eyes is a sweet and fun read that will make you believe in life and love and has definitely put Nell Iris on my authors-to-watch list.

RATING: 

When the song ended, I opened my eyes and clapped with the others. He didn't look up or say anything, just started strumming another slow song on the strings. Judging by the cheers from the room, it was a popular one.

And then he lifted his head, opened his eyes, and started singing.

I gasped.

It was him. Asher.

Both my hands flew to my face and covered my mouth.

Sixteen years later and I still would have recognized him anywhere. The hair was as unruly as ever, and just as rock 'n' roll as his voice. The jawline so sharp he could probably cut glass with it. And the nose was still a little too big for his face.

I couldn't see his green eyes from here, but I remembered them vividly. The pale color of a leaf newly broken out of its bud in spring, was such a stark contrast to his black eyelashes and olive complexion and had always hypnotized me with their beauty.

When he started singing, his voice pulled me out of my initial shock.

Two best friends
Like no one had ever seen before
Always together
happy and troublesome and wild
Sharing scraped knees
and high flying dreams
Carefree as the clouds in the sky
The boy with laughing cinnamon eyes
And I

The words struck a chord inside me. They reminded me of our friendship, all the way down to the scraped knees. Had he written this song? Had our friendship inspired him?

Then one day
he shimmered with a different light
Just one look at him
made my heart ache, stutter and want
I felt the same
pouring from his soul
A longing for more between us
The boy with loving cinnamon eyes
And I

He sang with such emotion, and the pronouns he used didn't escape me. Asher was singing to a man, and my stomach made a hopeful jump.

Our story
didn't have a fairytale ending
He had to leave me
and all I could do was to cry
But with no choice
I had to let go
We hugged and were saying goodbye
The boy with grieving cinnamon eyes
And I

I swallowed. I didn't understand. That sounded just like ... I shut down that thought immediately. It couldn't be.

It's been years
and my life has never been the same
I'm often wond'ring
what could have been if he'd stayed
Maybe one day
I'll see him again
In dreams we were never apart
My boy with the sweet cinnamon eyes
And I
My boy with loving cinnamon eyes
And I

After the last chord rang out, the bar was deadly silent for a heartbeat, and then everyone started cheering and clapping and whistling.

Everyone except me.

I folded my arms on the table in front of me and collapsed with my forehead on top of them and my face hidden in the dark space between.

Had I heard what I thought I'd just heard?

Was that song ... about us?

Had he had feelings for me too, back then?

The thought made me shake, and I grabbed my elbows and squeezed to keep myself from flying apart. I took a deep breath and didn't let it out until my lungs screamed and burned in protest. I repeated the process several times until my teeth had stopped chattering and my heart had slowed its furious pace.

I was still hiding when someone cleared their throat in my vicinity.

"Excuse me? Benji said you wanted to talk to me? Are, uh, are you all right?"

His voice was as deep when he spoke as when he sang, and it sent a shiver down my spine, completely different from the previous desperate shaking. I took a deep breath and raised my head. Forcing myself to face him.

At first, he didn't seem to recognize me. He searched my face for clues, but it only took a few moments for the spark of realization to light up his eyes.

"Cory?" His voice was gravellier than ever. "Cory, is that you?"

Nell Iris

Nell 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.

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🎅🎄Sunday's Short Stack🎄🎅: Ice Around the Edges by Mary Calmes

Summary:

Evan Kano’s life is on an even keel until the night he’s shot at the homeless shelter where he works. The resulting turmoil is not caused by a bullet but by a blast from the past: Evan’s first lover has returned to visit him in the hospital and deliver some big news.

Ten years ago, Dixon Bain walked out of Evan’s life because he thought his family didn’t approve of him having a male lover. But Dixon has discovered that what he thought he knew could not be further from the truth, and now he’s returned to claim the only man he’s ever loved... if he can melt the ice around the edges of Evan’s still-wounded heart.

2nd edition, previously published December 2010.

Second chance romance is always a favorite of mine, generally with a little redemption and forgiveness thrown in for good measure and lets face it, there isn't a better time of year for those two elements.

Another short holiday tale that I won't go into too much detail so as not to spoil anything.  I will say that Ice Around the Edges may be a bit more tame than one has come to expect from Mary Calmes and her infusion of mayhem.  Here the mayhem happened before and we find the MCs connecting after said mayhem.  Or more accurately Dixon trying to reconnect with Evan, the man he walked away from ten years prior because of his family's lack of accepting who he is(or did they?).  Dixon is not a man to give up on his plan to reconnect easily and he definitely has an uphill climb but he's determined.

Truly another lovely, fun, and spicy holiday short that will warm the heart and put a few laugh lines on your face.

RATING:

I hated hospitals, and having spent the last eight days in one, I was dying to go home. Not that there was anyone to go home to, but still. The smells, the sounds—I was ready to get the hell out of purgatory. And the wound, under the bandage, below my right shoulder, was itchy now instead of painful.

My parents, my brother, had all visited and then returned to their respective homes at my insistence. I loved that they’d all hopped on planes, but the holidays were looming and things like an excitedly anticipated cruise for my parents, and his wife being in her third trimester for my brother, meant none of them could stay. I didn’t need them to. It had been scary when I’d been shot, but I was well on the mend. This was corroborated by an endless stream of friends who had come by as well. I had so many visitors, the nurses had given me multiple warnings. They understood I was popular, but the sheer volume of people stopping by was out of hand. It was very kind, and I appreciated the company, but for an introvert, it had become a bit daunting. At the moment, I was more tired of being cheerful than I was from recovering from getting shot.

“Hey.”

Looking up, I was stunned.

“What?” he groused at me, irritated that fast.

I was speechless. The man who had just walked into my room was my ex, but what made it amazing was that he wasn’t my last one. He was not Greg Nevill, who had decided that living with a man who ran a homeless shelter was too much work, and he was not Sean Harris, who I had spent three years with before that. The man I was looking at was Dixon Bain, the very first man I had ever loved, back a million years ago when I was young and stupid and twenty-two. It had begun at eighteen, when we were both freshmen in college at the University of Chicago, and ended four years later, when he returned to New York.

“Holy shit,” I managed to get out.

He walked over to the bed, took off the black cashmere-and-wool overcoat, and draped it over the end. He was wearing a navy-blue suit underneath, the epitome of polished and professional. I was thinking he should have been on the cover of GQ.

“May I sit and talk to you?”

“Of course,” I told him, too out of it to do anything but stare. I watched him grab the chair that my boss was in an hour before and move it next to the bed. He sat down facing me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Dark olive-green eyes focused on me.

“Jesus, Dix, what’s it been?”

“Ten years.”

I knew for certain it was at least eight, but I would take his word for it. “And you’re doing what? Just… visiting?”

He cleared his throat. “You know Gwen Dawkins of Peterson Dunbar, don’t you?”

It took me a minute, because really, it had been forever since I’d laid eyes on the man, and I was having just the most surreal moment ever.

“Ev?”

And he was shortening my name like it was normal and expected and still us.

“Um, yeah, she––she’s the community outreach coordinator at PD.”

He nodded, leaning forward. “Well, I don’t know if you know or not, but Peterson Dunbar is an affiliate of Bain Limited.”

I shook my head. “No, I had no idea.”

His eyes were hard to describe, because when you said olive green, people immediately had a vision in their heads of what that looked like. But Dixon’s eyes… his eyes were this clear green mixed with brown, the color of dark khaki but with a sort of simmering intensity in them everyone always noticed. They were unique, just like he was. When I had been spellbound by the man those many years ago, just looking up and finding myself caught in his gaze had made my cock hard. I was very glad that I was swaddled under layers of blankets so he couldn’t see the reaction I was having to him. Some things never changed.

“So.” He cleared his throat. “When Gwen sent an email to her boss saying that she felt a donation in your name to the shelter you ran would be a good idea, sort of a gift for the holidays, I had to sign off on it, as my director of charitable contributions is out on maternity leave.”

I nodded.

“I emailed her back, asking why we were making a donation in your name, and she explained that she felt it would be a nice gesture, as the shelter would be missing their director for at least a month while you recuperated from getting shot.”

I had the weirdest feeling that I was dreaming. “So you came all the way from New York just to check up on me?”

“Of course I did.”

I saw how tense he looked, but that made no sense. “Why?”

“Why what?”

I squinted at him.

“Why would I come check on you?”

“Yes, Dixon,” I said, drawing out his name. “Why would you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Oh dear God. We would be caught in this circle forever. “Just answer the question, would you, please? It’s annoying as hell.”

“I came because you got shot, idiot.”

Mary Calmes
Mary Calmes lives in Lexington, Kentucky, with her husband and two children and loves all the seasons except summer. She graduated from the University of the Pacific in Stockton, California, with a bachelor's degree in English literature. Due to the fact that it is English lit and not English grammar, do not ask her to point out a clause for you, as it will so not happen. She loves writing, becoming immersed in the process, and falling into the work. She can even tell you what her characters smell like. She loves buying books and going to conventions to meet her fans.

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