Saturday, January 8, 2022

Saturday's Series Spotlight: Vale Valley Season One Part 1



Mated Under the Mistletoe by Connor Crowe
Summary:
Vale Valley Season One #1
Like your favorite Hallmark Christmas movie...only way more gay.

A Dragon In Denial...
Sebastian Wallace spread his wings (literally) and left Vale Valley for business school in the city the moment he was able. Ambitious and full of big ideas, he wanted to find his own place in the world. With an MBA under his belt and a startup business venture in New York, things are looking up. Until he gets the call that his mother has passed away and left him The Dozing Dragon, her bed and breakfast, in the will. Sebastian returns to his hometown, hoping to make it a quick trip. But when he reconnects with a sweet omega in the Valley, everything changes.

A Haunted Omega...
Will Sterling can see things no one should. In a town full of shifters and other paranormals, you'd think seeing ghosts would be no biggie. Afraid of his own power, Will does his best to live a "normal" life and keeps himself busy at the local garden shop. But things are starting to change in Vale Valley. The yearly fireworks show ended five years ago when a stray rocket sent the place up in flames. And now The Dozing Dragon's sudden closure fills Will with dread for what might come next. When the owner's son returns to town, dare he hope for a better future?

With Sebastian's help, can they save the Dozing Dragon and bring back the fireworks in time for Christmas? And does Will's secret power hold the key to both?

Mated Under The Mistletoe is the first book in a multi-author series about Vale Valley, a small town open to everyone in need of love and a home. Each installment can be read as a standalone.

It contains way too many dirty jokes, plants with a mind of their own, mpreg, and more sweets than Willy Wonka's factory. Pull up a chair, grab your hot cocoa, and settle in for this heartwarming holiday read!



Twice as Joyful by Lorelei M Hart
Summary:
Vale Valley Season One #2
Sometimes the ones who got away never really did…

Omega Bryce, stuck in a dead-end job that barely makes ends meet, doesn’t have time to act as executor for his dearly departed uncle’s estate—especially since it means going back to Vale Valley, home of many of his best (and long-past) memories. He’s even more unwilling to let his uncle down. But when Bryce arrives only to discover the lawyer he needs to meet with has closed up shop for the holidays, he decides to stay in his uncle’s cabin for a few days.

Alpha Houston had no intention of ever returning to Vale Valley after he joined the Coast Guard nearly a decade earlier. But the news that he’s been named Sal’s executor draws him back. He decides to stay at the cabin and is shocked when he returns with groceries to find Bryce, his old crush, looking and smelling every bit as delicious as Houston remembered.

Alpha Dante never left Vale Valley—not that it mattered, since both his hearts took off years ago. When Sal passes and names him executor of the estate, it’s like a door finally closing on that chapter of his life. After all, why would either Houston or Bryce ever return? When he sees them again, though, he feels his past has returned and is being dangled in front of him as a possible future.

The three men fall back into their old friendship with ease—and the lust they felt all those years ago is only magnified. This time, though, they don’t ignore it, allowing the magic of the season to thrust them into what they always truly wanted.

But with adult commitments looming and so much time lost, is it too late for their happily ever after?

Twice as Joyful is part of a multi-author series about Vale Valley, a small town open to everyone in need of love and a home. Each installment can be read as a standalone.

Nestle up with your cup of cocoa and enjoy this MMM non-shifter super sweet with knotty omegaverse second-chance romance featuring three reunited best friends, some mistletoe mischief, and a surprise gift that will warm your heart, all set in the mystical, magical, love-filled Vale Valley!



Three Roses by Alice Shaw
Summary:
Vale Valley Season One #3
A rose by any other name can still fall for two alphas…

Alphas Ozzie and Aidrick believe all they need to make their relationship complete is a baby. But after several surrogates cancel their plans with the alpha couple, they’re beginning to lose hope. When they receive a mysterious brochure for the magical town of Vale Valley, it turns out to be exactly the new home they need.

Omega Tommy has no idea who he really is. Alone and close to freezing, he’s saved when the two alphas follow Ozzie’s dream to the top of Onyx Mountain and find him lying next to three immaculate roses growing in the snow. The alphas’ love warms his body and heart, and their relationship is cemented when the three of them finally give in to the lust they feel for each other.

But before they can fully commit, the thruple must complete their quest to find Tommy’s true identity—and once there’s a baby on the way, the clock is ticking!

Three Roses is part of a multi-author series about Vale Valley, a small town open to everyone in need of love and a home. Each installment can be read as a standalone.

It's a MMM Mpreg romance featuring two hot, kinky, gorgeous alphas, an omega who needs the love his alphas have to give, a magic music box, and a surprise gift that will warm your heart, all set in the mystical, magical, love-filled Vale Valley!



Mated Under the Mistletoe by Connor Crowe
The Phone Call 
Sebastian 
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Wallace!” 

Hannah poked her head into my office, brandishing a glittery card and a very festive looking cupcake. 

A quick glance at the calendar on my desktop read December 1. I turned to Hannah and gave her my best smile. “You going to keep doing this every day till Christmas?” I asked. “There’s still a whole month left.” 

She gave me her best pouty face. “And who says I can’t start celebrating early? Besides, if there’s cupcakes in it for you, you can’t be too grumpy about it.” 

She had a point. I shrugged and took the card and cupcake from her, setting them on my desk next to all the day’s paperwork. “Thank you, Hannah.” I turned back to her. “And you know you can call me Sebastian. I may be the CEO, but I don’t want anyone to feel they can’t approach me. We’re in this together.” 

Hannah bobbed her head up and down. The tight black ponytail she always wore bounced from side to side, and that’s when I realized: she was wearing a jingle bells hair tie. 

Lord, this was gonna be a long month. 

“Of course, Mr.—I mean Sebastian. Can I call you Seb? I was coming in here to let you know I’m traveling for the holidays starting December 12th. My family has this whole crazy 12 days of Christmas tradition, and I couldn’t miss it…”

The twelfth. So soon. 

I rubbed my forehead, trying to come up with a response. But she looked so excited about going home, so sure that I’d say yes, that I couldn’t resist. 

“Oh, all right. But you know we have some big deadlines coming up. Think you’ll be able to finish your work before you leave?” 

“I will, promise. Thank you Seb!” With that, she bounced out the door, her musical hair tie ringing as she went. 

The door clattered closed and I returned to the computer. Less than a month until Christmas. And so much yet to do. 

I wondered why I’d given in so easily to Hannah’s request. I wasn’t exactly known for being the most festive this time of year. But there was a reason for that. 

When I saw Hannah’s eyes light up as she talked about her family, it touched something inside me. Something I’d lost, long ago. Hope? Happiness? Joy for the future? 

Didn’t matter now though. What mattered was closing this deal before Christmas. Everyone knew nearly the entire month of December was a dead zone for work getting done, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. 

I’d busted my ass getting Wallace Innovations off the ground, and now we were one of the up and coming consulting firms in New York City. 

That came with a price, though. My people were feeling the strain of all the work, and I was too, much as I didn’t want to admit it. Our reputation for quick and stellar service meant we were working basically all the time, and while it was fun at first, lost in the heady haze of adrenaline and bootstrapping the business, it was starting to wear on us. All of us.  

I ran a hand through my hair and stared at the computer screen, my eyes glazing over. Deep inside, my dragon roared. It didn’t like being cooped up like this. I knew that much. But I’d never asked to be a shifter. Especially in the cutthroat world of business, coming out as a shifter would only be a liability. So I kept to myself and buried those parts of me deep, deep within.  

I left my hometown as soon as I could and set off for the big city. I didn’t want any part of their games. I wanted to prove to myself that I could be more than nature had decided for me.  

And it worked. Sorta.  

With an MBA in hand, they said I’d have my pick of opportunities. So what did I do? Started my own business, of course. Something about me and authority never really meshed too well. Hell, I nearly got kicked out of school a couple times. But I remembered why I was there in the first place and doubled down. Tripled down.  

I needed school, just as I needed to keep my shifter at bay. I needed routine and discipline to make up for my weaknesses. And there were many.  

When’s the last time you’ve stretched your wings? A little voice came from within. I shook my head and squinted at the spreadsheet even more aggressively, like that would make the thoughts go away. 

You need to get out. A dragon isn’t meant to be cooped up in an office. 

“I’m not a dragon,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I’m a man.” 

And an alpha, it teased. When are you going to find a mate? 

When I’m done here, was the first answer that came to mind, but it wasn’t a good one. Anyone could tell you that any endeavor, creative or otherwise, was never truly done. You simply built it the best you could and then took that leap of faith, putting it out into the world.  

Yeah. It was that leaping part I wasn’t so good at sometimes.

My thoughts returned to Hannah’s jingling pigtails and the festive cheer on her face when mentioning going home for Christmas. Had I stayed in Vale Valley, there probably would have been a huge celebration for the season. There always was, at least when I was a kid. All the shifters got together and ran, flew, or swam free, the night of Christmas Eve. A way to ring in the season.  

But my favorite part of it all? No question. The yearly Festival of Fire was one of the things I missed most about Vale Valley. That and Rosemary Vale. She was the mayor of the town and one of the sweetest old ladies I’d ever met. I almost regretted leaving her when I ‘spread my wings’ after high school and left town. Always there with a kind word or a helping hand, she seemed to be everywhere at once, and had an uncanny knack for knowing what others wanted or needed, even when they didn’t quite know it themselves.  

Growing up in Vale Valley, it wasn’t that weird, though. It was an enclave of shifters and non shifters alike, held in balance by a magical force field around the town. A spell hung over the valley, ensuring that only the full hearted would ever find the place. 

If you’re lost and need love and a warm home, Vale Valley will be there for you. 

I mouthed the words of our hometown slogan. So cheery. So cheesy. So...optimistic. They lived in a bubble, without a care for the goings-on of the real world. More than a little irresponsible, if you asked me. 

But they’d made their choices. Just as I’d made mine. And business was picking up here in NYC. Just had to dig myself and my team out from under this mountain of work we’d created for ourselves... 

The phone rang and I startled, jostling the cup of pens on the desk and sending them flying.

I cleared my throat and grabbed the phone, taking a quick moment to exhale and ground myself.  

“Hello, Wallace Innovations. This is Sebastian Wallace speaking.” 

“Sebastian. Oh, thank god I got the right number. I wasn’t sure, took me quite a bit of digging to find you out there in the wide world.” 

I froze. I knew that voice. Hadn’t heard it in years, but still I knew it like the back of my hand.  

That was Rosemary Vale.  

“Rose,” I breathed. “How’d you find me?” 

“You know I’ve always had a knack for that, sweetheart.” 

I huffed in amusement. “I know. But why now?” 

She grew silent for a moment, then choose her words carefully. “I wish I was contacting you under better circumstances, Sebastian. But it’s your mother.” 

I froze. Blinked. Surely I hadn’t heard that right.  

“Sebastian?” Rose asked on the other line. “You there?”  

“Yeah,” I croaked. “What happened to her?” 

When I left Vale Valley, I hadn’t done so on the best of terms. I was ready to get out and see the world. I was ready to take life into my own hands, something I hadn’t quite been able to do back at home.  

Silence strung out on the end of the line. A lump built up in my throat. Sure, I left out of rebellion and anger, but if something had happened to her... 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Seb. But Nellie died in her sleep last night. Totally unexpected, mind you. But she went peacefully.”

I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles hurt. “Wha-?” I stammered. She didn’t actually say ‘died’. She didn’t. 

“I’m so sorry, Sebastian. Your mother has passed away.” 

Memories flooded back all at once. I drowned in them. All the things I’d never told her. And all the things I wish I could have done, could have said... 

She went to her grave believing that her only son had abandoned her. 

I vaguely heard Rose’s voice on the other end of the line, but she sounded far away now. Distant. 

“It was sudden, but she had a rough will drafted up not long ago. She was in perfect health beforehand, far as we could tell. But these things happen sometimes, unfortunately. The only problem now is her estate. Since you’re the next-of-kin, you need to be here.” 

“I...yeah. When?” My mind spun. There was so much left to finish here, but if my mom was dead, did it even matter? 

“Vale Valley needs you, Sebastian.” Rose echoed the same words that had been on my mind. “It’s time to come home.” 

“Yeah,” I breathed, scrabbling around on the desk for something to write with. “I’ll get there on the next flight out. I...let me just notify my staff.” 

“See you soon, Sebastian. You know Vale Valley will always be here to welcome you home.” 

I sat there for a few moments in the silence of the office. How things had changed. Nothing like a death in the family to get you to re-evaluate your priorities.  

Even if we weren’t ever very close...in fact, because of that, it felt so much more raw. Like the rug had been ripped out from under me with no warning, no chance to make things right.

I’d never get the chance to make amends with her. Never again get the chance to tell her I loved her. It wasn’t fair. 

No, more than that. It was wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen! 

My dragon reared up inside me, screeching in pain and grief. Gone! It shrieked. She’s gone! 

Mother! 

Everything felt cold. Distant. Out of touch. There was a knock at my door, but I barely even registered it.  

I needed to tell the team. Then I needed to get my ass to Vale Valley.



Twice as Joyful by Lorelei M Hart
Chapter One 
Brian 
Vale Valley. 

I hadn’t been there since the summer after college graduation. That had been one of my fondest childhood memories, too, hanging out for the week with my uncle Sal just fishing and carving wood into nothing even if the intent had always been some kind of animal, and learning all of the constellations. 

This trip was not going to be one of those fond memories. No. Sal had passed from our world and for reasons I’d never understand, he left me the executor of his estate. Me, the college graduate still sharing a one-bedroom apartment with two other people to be able to afford rent because of bad student loan decisions a decade earlier. I was far from the person who should be trusted with money, especially not money destined to be mine. 

The entire thing was a hot mess, and I was about out of personal leave at work, using the last of it to come to Vale Valley to meet with some lawyer who was somehow connected to the estate. Thank goodness it was going to piggyback on the Christmas closure or I’d have been good and fired. 

I drove down the road looking for the offices of James Madison Esquire, my GPS and phone not even pretending to work. The town was so much smaller than I remembered which worked out well, given I didn’t have a map. I found Elm Ave. fairly quickly, and from there it was easy peasy lemon squeezy to find the office. Which would’ve been amazingly magnificent had the office not had a large Closed for the Holidays sign on it. 

“Fuck.” My head fell to the steering wheel. I had wanted to come, take care of whatever needed doing, and be out of there in time to possibly regain one of my days off. 

A pine cone fell onto my windshield, bouncing down onto the hood before rolling off the car, startling the crap out of me. It startled me back to the reality that I needed to find a place to stay, at least for the night. I could regroup again in the morning and figure out if I should go home and wait for the lawyer to come back from the less-than-informative sign on the door that had not a date on it. 

I’d passed an inn on the way in, and had I some money I’d have considered it, but my paycheck-to-paycheck lifestyle made that not the wisest move. 

Instead, I opted to head out to my uncle’s cabin. I was pretty sure I remembered the way and even if he’d started locking the doors, something he never did back then, I’d probably be able to break in, as not ideal as that was. 

I only had to turn around twice before I found the cabin of my memories. From the outside, nothing had changed—the metal roof still had a dent from when the large oak lost a branch after being hit by lightning, the front porch still lopsided, and the front door decorated with a wreath. It was like coming home except no Uncle Sal. 

Sorrow I’d been pushing down the entire trip bubbled over and tears trickled down my cheeks. 

I’d complained to myself and others that the PTO and money and my car being old were the reasons I didn’t want to do this job and while every single one of those were valid, the true reason, the one I tried to hide even from myself, was the combination of guilt and grief I held inside over my uncle’s death. 

I’d known something was wrong when he didn’t show up for family Thanksgiving. Sure, the excuse was that he had work to do on the cabin to get ready for winter, that it had snuck up on him. Except that wasn’t the Sal I nor anyone else knew. Yet, I let that worry, that concern go unexpressed. 

Would he still be alive had I checked on him? Absolutely not. Cancer didn’t play that way. Once it had its eyes set on you, you were on its timeline. But I could’ve spent time with him, gone on that fishing trip he’d been nagging me about, helped him get the new generator hooked up, so many things.

But I had been a selfish jerk, using my job as an excuse, using my car as an excuse, using my plans as an excuse, when in reality none of that had been even a smidgeon more important than seeing the man who treated me more than just a beta. He never knew that I was an omega, as I discovered that only after his demise, even though doctors suspected it earlier. He treated me like the man he saw me to be, not a label. 

And in return, what did I do? I focused on me. The exact opposite of the way Sal taught me to be. 

As the tears slowed, I climbed out of the car to find, sure enough, the front door was not locked. The front room, which opened into the kitchen, wasn’t the mess I feared it would be. Someone had been there since his passing and, at the very least, taken the dishes out of the drainer, for my uncle never once had that thing empty. 

We had complied with Sal’s wishes not to have a funeral or any kind of celebration of life, so the cleanliness of the place puzzled me. I dropped my duffle bag with a thud and made quick use of the bathroom, finding the towel already damp. 

The someone had been there recently. 

Maybe it was the lawyer or someone he hired, I rationalized as I went back into the kitchen, grabbed a garbage bag, and prepared to take out all the gross condiments from at least a decade earlier that somehow always occupied the space. I swung the door to the fridge open, expecting the worst to instead find it stocked with food—real food, not old condiments and not anything green and fuzzy. 

I’d been wrong. No one had been there to clean. Someone had been squatting. This was not going to end well. 

And as if on cue, headlights shone through the front window, and I instinctively grabbed the fireplace poker, crossing my fingers I hadn’t brought a spoon to a knife fight.



Three Roses by Alice Shaw
Prologue: Ozzie 
“Baby, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.” 

Thick beads of sweat rolled down my forehead, landing on the soft bedding above my upper lip. The winter air that managed to flow through a crack in the window was cold, but my body acted as if it were on fire. Every muscle in my body ached with strain. 

Struggling to catch my breath, I clutched the warm blanket against my chest and gasped for air. My sweet boyfriend tenderly tickled my back as I allowed myself to bask in the upcoming calm. 

“Sorry,” I panted. “You’re right. It was a bad dream.” 

“Here. Let me get you something to drink,” Aidrick said. After turning on the light in the bedroom, he ran into the kitchen to grab me a glass of water. 

I opened the blinds to our bedroom window. I breathed easier when I saw the red and white lights of the cars below. 

In the corner of our room sat all of our suitcases, perfectly packed and waiting to be thrown into the trunk. Instead of setting up our old plastic tree, we celebrated a day early by going to our favorite, local Chinese food restaurant. It wasn’t the most festive establishment, but we had a lot on our plate. 

The sounds of the city were always comforting to me. Philadelphia was such a vibrant city with the right amount of diversity of people and sights to visit on a day where boredom takes over. The food was delicious, and we had a darn good rent price, but we had outgrown our welcome.

As he came back from the small kitchen, he handed me a glass of cold water. “Here you go, baby. Drink slowly, okay?” 

Aidrick was the sweetest soul I knew. He would have done anything for me, and I knew it. That’s why I had to take the first step. 

As soon as I got the brochure for the cabin within the “magical town” of Vale Valley, I knew we had to leave. It was the right choice for a new life. 

I took a too big of a sip and exhaled loudly after nearly choking. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately,” I said. “I keep dreaming that I’m falling.” 

“Those dreams are awful,” he said, taking the glass back into his hands. “It’ll be okay. They’ll pass. You’re just going through a funk.” 

I lowered the blinds again and managed a smile. “Maybe. I’m a little nervous to move away from the city.” 

Heartbeat slowing down, Aidrick combed his nails through the chocolate highlights of his hair before lowering his lips to my forehead. “It’s okay to be nervous. You grew up down the street from here. It’s a big change” he whispered. 

But that wasn’t why I felt so weird. Every time I thought about Vale Valley, I felt great relief. For the last ten years, we tried to make things work in the city. Sure, we had friends and family. We had people who were there for us. But as we grew older, we wanted more. Maybe that was selfish. Maybe I blamed myself for what had been happening to us. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked. 

Aidrick sighed and looked into my eyes. The green surrounding his pupils reflected against the light flooding in from the kitchen. “We need a change, Oz,” he said. “All of the surrogates fled, our rent prices are probably going to skyrocket, and I love what we have too much to live a banal life. I don’t think I have any more fight left in me, Ozzie.” 

I nodded, but my heart ached. A baby was supposed to change everything for us. We were clean into our thirties—the drive to procreate was so strong, but the opportunity wasn’t there. We were two alphas that deserved a chance. 

“Maybe Vale Valley will change things for us.” 

He squeezed my shoulders, lovingly. “It’s okay. We tried. I don’t need a baby.” 

But I knew all of his tells—the quick movement of his upper lip alerted me of the lie. Aidrick wanted a child more than me. It was the one wish he had for the holidays, and after the last runaway surrogate, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. So much planning, shopping, and emotional pull wore us down. All of it added up to nothing. 

“Do you want to hear about my dream?” I asked. 

Though I knew it was far too early to be getting up just yet, he listened. “We were climbing this mountain. I think it was close to our new home, but I can’t be sure. Something inside of my body told me there was someone waiting for us at the top.” 

“A person?” 

I shook my head and tried to make sense of my thoughts. I could feel the presence of someone, but I wasn’t sure what he was and how he got there. After all, it was a dream. 

“I think so,” I said. 

“Well, have you searched on the internet to see if this mountain is real?” he asked. 

I laughed and grabbed my phone. “Not yet. I suppose I should, huh?” 

“Well, duh!” 

Sure enough, there was a mountain that overlooked the whole town. Onyx Mountain.

Apparently, people traveled from all over just to hike to the treacherous summit. 

Judging by the gleam in Aidrick’s eyes, I knew he had some elaborate plan brewing. “No, Aidrick. It says right here—it’s a difficult hike.” 

Aidrick flexed his biceps around my chest and playfully bit my shoulder. “So what? I can do it.” 

I frowned. He was strong, but hiking was not something he was suited for. “There is a fifty meter chute up the mountain,” I said. “Apparently, it’s a seventy degree angle. You really think you can handle it?” 

He sucked in a breath and smiled. “I think we should try it. If it’s a designated trail, we’ll be okay,” he said. “Plus, once we get to the top, we’ll feel unstoppable.” 

I didn’t imagine a long hike right when we got into town, but if Aidrick was truly up for the work, I was all for it. “That would feel really cool,” I said. “I guess we do need something to knock us out of our funk.” 

“You see? That’s why you’ve been having these dreams! We just need to challenge ourselves again,” he said. 

“Wouldn’t it be funny if someone was up there, waiting for us?” I laughed and finally crawled out of bed, yawning. 

“Hey, be careful what you wish for. It’s Christmas—Santa Claus could be waiting with a bag of new toys.” 

“Hm. What kind of toys are we talking about?” 

I could already tell that moving was going to be the start of something different. How unsual that was going to be, I didn’t yet know. 

I rolled on top of him before sucking in a hicky on his neck. “Get over here,” I said. 

I kissed him and said goodbye forever to the apartment and bustling city that shaped our lives.


Vale Valley is a small town open to everyone in need of love and a home,
where were-creatures, witches, ghosts and many others can live in harmony.

Saturday Series Spotlight
Season One-Winter
Part 1  /  Part 2

Season Two-Valentine
Part 1  /  Part 2








Connor Crowe
Connor Crowe grew up reading stories about dragons, magic, and adventure. He often liked to imagine himself as a character in those stories, and as he grew older he began to write some of them down. He couldn't just write any old fantasy, though. As a die-hard romantic, he tells stories of men finding true love amidst adversity.

When you read a Connor Crowe book, you know you're getting action-packed fantasy mpreg that will make your heart race in more ways than one ;)



Lorelei M. Hart
Lorelei 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 ;).



Alice Shaw
Alice Shaw grew up in the deserts of Arizona. From an early age, she loved reading about shifters, alphas, and their lovely omegas. As she got older, she fell in love with MM and Mpreg. Now, she can't stop writing stories and building new worlds in the omegaverse.

Want to stay updated on all my new works? First, click the FOLLOW button. Then, join my newsletter.


Connor Crowe

Lorelei M Hart
EMAIL: Lorelei@mpregwithhart.com 

Alice Shaw
EMAIL: aliceshawauthor@gmail.com



Mated Under the Mistletoe by Connor Crowe

Twice as Joyful by Lorelei M Hart
Three Roses by Alice Shaw

Season One - Winter

Season Two - Valentine

Season Three - Summer

Season Four - Holiday

Season Five - Autumn/Solstice


Friday, January 7, 2022

πŸ“˜πŸŽ₯Friday's Film AdaptationπŸŽ₯πŸ“˜: The Lady in the Lake by Raymond Chandler



Summary:
Philip Marlowe #3
A couple of missing wives—one a rich man's and one a poor man's—become the objects of Marlowe's investigation. One of them may have gotten a Mexican divorce and married a gigolo and the other may be dead. Marlowe's not sure he cares about either one, but he's not paid to care.





One
The Treloar Building was, and is, on Olive Street, near Sixth, on the west side. The sidewalk in front of it had been built of black and white rubber blocks. They were taking them up now to give to the government, and a hatless pale man with a face like a building superintendent was watching the work and looking as if it was breaking his heart.

I went past him through an arcade of specialty shops into a vast black and gold lobby. The Gillerlain Company was on the seventh floor, in front, behind swinging double plate glass doors bound in platinum. Their reception room had Chinese rugs, dull silver walls, angular but elaborate furniture, sharp shiny bits of abstract sculpture on pedastals and a tall display in a triangular showcase in the corner. On tiers and steps and islands and promontories of shining mirror-glass it seemed to contain every fancy bottle and box that had ever been designed. There were creams and powders and soaps and toilet waters for every season and every occasion. There were perfumes in tall thin bottles that looked as if a breath would blow them over and perfumes in little pastel phials tied with ducky satin bows, like the little girls at a dancing class. The cream of the crop seemed to be something very small and simple in a squat amber bottle. It was in the middle at eye height, had a lot of space to itself, and was labeled Gillerlain Regal, The Champagne of Perfumes. It was definitely the stuff to get. One drop of that in the hollow of your throat and the matched pink pearls started falling on you like summer rain.

A neat little blonde sat off in a far corner at a small PBX, behind a railing and well out of harm's way. At a flat desk in line with the doors was a tall, lean, dark-haired lovely whose name, according to the tilted embossed plaque on her desk, was Miss Adrienne Fromsett.

She wore a steel gray business suit and under the jacket a dark blue shirt and a man's tie of lighter shade. The edges of the folded handkerchief in the breast pocket looked sharp enough to slice bread. She wore a linked bracelet and no other jewelry. Her dark hair was parted and fell in loose but not unstudied waves. She had a smooth ivory skin and rather severe eyebrows and large dark eyes that looked as if they might warm up at the right time and in the right place.

I put my plain card, the one without the tommy gun in the corner, on her desk and asked to see Mr. Derace Kingsley. She looked at the card and said: "Have you an appointment?"

"No appointment."

"It is very difficult to see Mr. Kingsley without an appointment."

That wasn't anything I could argue about.

"What is the nature of your business, Mr. Marlowe?"

"Personal."

"I see. Does Mr. Kingsley know you, Mr. Marlowe?"

"I don't think so. He may have heard my name. You might say I'm from Lieutenant M'Gee."

"And does Mr. Kingsley know Lieutenant M'Gee?"

She put my card beside a pile of freshly typed letterheads. She leaned back and put one arm on the desk and tapped lightly with a small gold pencil.

I grinned at her. The little blonde at the PBX cocked a shell-like ear and smiled a small fluffy smile. She looked playful and eager, but not quite sure of herself, like a new kitten in a house where they don't care much about kittens.

"I'm hoping he does," I said. "But maybe the best way to find out is to ask him."

She initialed three letters rapidly, to keep from throwing her pen set at me. She spoke again without looking up.

"Mr. Kingsley is in conference. I'll send your card in when I have an opportunity."

I thanked her and went and sat in a chromium and leather chair that was a lot more comfortable than it looked. Time passed and silence descended on the scene. Nobody came in or went out. Miss Fromsett's elegant hand moved over her papers and the muted peep of the kitten at the PBX was audible at moments, and the little click of the plugs going in and out.

I lit a cigarette and dragged a smoking stand beside the chair. The minutes went by on tiptoe, with their fingers to their lips. I looked the place over. You can't tell any thing about an outfit like that. They might be making millions, and they might have the sheriff in the back room, with his chair tilted against the safe.

Half an hour and three or four cigarettes later a door opened behind Miss Fromsett's desk and two men came out backwards laughing. A third man held the door for them and helped them laugh. They all shook hands heartily and the two men went across the office and out. The third man dropped the grin off his face and looked as if he had never grinned in his life. He was a tall bird in a gray suit and he didn't want any nonsense.

"Any calls?" he asked in a sharp bossy voice.

Miss Fromsett said softly: "A Mr. Marlowe to see you. From Lieutenant M'Gee. His business is personal."'

"Never heard of him," the tall man barked. He took my card, didn't even glance at me, and went back into his office. His door closed on the pneumatic closer and made a sound like "phooey." Miss Fromsett gave me a sweet sad smile and I gave it back to her in the form of an obscene leer. I ate another cigarette and more time staggered by. I was getting to be very fond of the Gillerlain Company.

Ten minutes later the same door opened again and the big shot came out with his hat on and sneered that he was going to get a hair-cut. He started off across the Chinese rug in a swinging athletic stride, made about half the distance to the door and then did a sharp cutback and came over to where I was sitting.

"You want to see me?" he barked.

He was about six feet two and not much of it soft. His eyes were stone gray with flecks of cold light in them. He filled a large size in smooth gray flannel with a narrow chalk stripe, and filled it elegantly. His manner said he was very tough to get along with.

I stood up. "If you're Mr. Derace Kingsley."

"Who the hell did you think I was?"

I let him have that trick and gave him my other card, the one with the business on it. He clamped it in his paw and scowled down at it.

"Who's M'Gee?" he snapped.

"He's just a fellow I know."

"I'm fascinated," he said, glancing back at Miss Fromsett. She liked it. She liked it very much. "Anything else you would care to let drop about him?"

"Well, they call him Violets M'Gee," I said. "On account of he chews little throat pastilles that smell of violets. He's a big man with soft silvery hair and a cute little mouth made to kiss babies with. When last seen he was wearing a neat blue suit, wide-toed brown shoes, gray homburg hat, and he was smoking opium in a short briar pipe."

"I don't like your manner," Kingsley said in a voice you could have cracked a Brazil nut on.

"That's all right," I said. "I'm not selling it."

He reared back as if I had hung a week-old mackerel under his nose. After a moment he turned his back on me and said over his shoulder:

"I'll give you exactly three minutes. God knows why."

He burned the carpet back past Miss Fromsett's desk to his door, yanked it open and let it swing to in my face. Miss Fromsett liked that too, but I thought there was a little sly laughter behind her eyes now.

TWO

The private office was everything a private office should be. It was long and dim and quiet and air-conditioned and its windows were shut and its gray venetian blinds half-closed to keep out the July glare. Gray drapes matched the gray carpeting. There was a large black and silver safe in the corner and a low row of low filing cases that exactly matched it. On the wall there was a huge tinted photograph of an elderly party with a chiselled beak and whiskers and a wing collar. The Adam's apple that edged through his wing collar looked harder than most people's chins. The plate underneath the photograph read: Mr. Matthew Gillerlain 1860-1934.

Derace Kingsley marched briskly behind about eight hundred dollars' worth of executive desk and planted his backside in a tall leather chair. He reached himself a panatela out of a copper and mahogany box and trimmed it and lit it with a fat copper desk lighter. He took his time about it. It didn't matter about my time. When he had finished this, he leaned back and blew a little smoke and said:

"I'm a business man. I don't fool around. You're a licensed detective, your card says. Show me something to prove it."

I got my wallet out and handed him things to prove it. He looked at them and threw them back across the desk. The celluloid holder with the photostat license in it fell to the floor. He didn't bother to apologize.

"I don't know M'Gee," he said. "I know Sheriff Petersen. I asked for the name of a reliable man to do a job. I suppose you are the man."

"M'Gee is in the Hollywood sub-station of the sheriff's office," I said. "You can check on that."

"Not necessary. I guess you might do, but don't get flip with me. And remember when I hire a man he's my man. He does exactly what I tell him and he keeps his mouth shut. Or he goes out fast. Is that clear? I hope I'm not too tough for you."

"Why not leave that an open question?" I said.

He frowned. He said sharply: "What do you charge?"

"Twenty-five a day and expenses. Eight cents a mile for my car."

"Absurd," he said. "Far too much. Fifteen a day flat. That's plenty. I'll pay the mileage, within reason, the way things are now. But no joyriding."

I blew a little gray cloud of cigarette smoke and fanned it with my hand. I said nothing. He seemed a little surprised that I said nothing.

He leaned over the desk and pointed with his cigar. "I haven't hired you yet," he said, "but if I do, the job is absolutely confidential. No talking it over with your cop friends. Is that understood?"

"Just what do you want done, Mr. Kingsley?"

"What do you care? You do all kinds of detective work, don't you?"

"Not all kinds. Only the fairly honest kinds."

He stared at me level-eyed, his jaws tight. His gray eyes had an opaque look.

"For one thing I don't do divorce business," I said. "And I get a hundred down as a retainer—from strangers."

"Well, well," he said, in a voice suddenly soft. "Well, well."

"And as for your being too tough for me," I said, "most of the clients start out either by weeping down my shirt or bawling me out to show who's boss. But usually they end up very reasonable—if they're still alive."

"Well, well," he said again, in the same soft voice, and went on staring at me. "Do you lose very many of them?" he asked.

"Not if they treat me right," I said.

"Have a cigar," he said.

I took a cigar and put it in my pocket.

"I want you to find my wife," he said. "She's been missing for a month."

"Okay," I said. "I'll find your wife."

He patted his desk with both hands. He stared at me solidly. "I think you will at that," he said. Then he grinned. "I haven't been called down like that in four years." he said.

I didn't say anything.

"Damn it all," he said, "I liked it. I liked it fine." He ran a hand through his thick dark hair. "She's been gone a whole month," he said. "From a cabin we have in the mountains. Near Puma Point. Do you know Puma Point?"

I said I knew Puma Point.

"Our place is three miles from the village," he said, "partly over a private road. It's on a private lake. Little Fawn Lake. There's a dam three of us put up to improve the property. I own the tract with two other men. It's quite large, but undeveloped and won't be developed now for some time, of course. My friends have cabins, I have a cabin and a man named Bill Chess lives with his wife in another cabin rent free and looks after the place. He's a disabled veteran with a pension. That's all there is up there. My wife went up the middle of May, came down twice for weekends, was due down the 12th of June for a party and never showed up. I haven't seen her since."

"What have you done about it?" I asked.

"Nothing. Not a thing. I haven't even been up there." He waited, wanting me to ask why.

I said: "Why?"

He pushed his chair back to get a locked drawer open. He took out a folded paper and passed it over. I unfolded it and saw it was a Postal Telegraph form. The wire had been filed at El Paso on June 14th at 9:19 a.m. It was addressed to Derace Kingsley, 965 Carson Drive, Beverly Hills, and read:

"AM CROSSING TO GET MEXICAN DIVORCE STOP WILL MARRY CHRIS STOP GOOD LUCK AND GOODBY CRYSTAL."

I put this down on my side of the desk and he was handing me a large and very clear snapshot on glazed paper which showed a man and a woman sitting on the sand under a beach umbrella. The man wore trunks and the woman what looked like a very daring white sharkskin bathing suit. She was a slim blonde, young and shapely and smiling. The man was a hefty dark handsome lad with fine shoulders and legs, sleek dark hair and white teeth. Six feet of a standard type of homewrecker. Arms to hold you close and all his brains in his face. He was holding a pair of dark glasses in his hand and smiling at the camera with a practiced and easy smile.

"That's Crystal," Kingsley said, "and that's Chris Lavery. She can have him and he can have her and to hell with them both."

I put the photo down on the telegram. "All right, what's the catch?" I asked him.


Philip Marlowe searches for a missing woman in this mystery shot entirely from the detective's viewpoint.

Release Date: January 23, 1947
Release Time: 105 minutes

Director: Robert Montgomery

Cast:
Robert Montgomery as Phillip Marlowe
Audrey Totter as Adrienne Fromsett
Lloyd Nolan as Lt. DeGarmot
Tom Tully as Police Captain Fergus K. Kane
Leon Ames as Derace "Derry" Kingsby
Jayne Meadows as Mildred Havelend
Richard Simmons as Chris Lavery
Morris Ankrum as Eugene Grayson
Lila Leeds as Receptionist
Robert Williams as Artist
Kathleen Lockhart as Mrs. Grayson









Author Bio:
Raymond Thornton Chandler was an American novelist and screenwriter.

In 1932, at age forty-four, Raymond Chandler decided to become a detective fiction writer after losing his job as an oil company executive during the Depression. His first short story, "Blackmailers Don't Shoot", was published in 1933 in Black Mask, a popular pulp magazine. His first novel, The Big Sleep, was published in 1939. In addition to his short stories, Chandler published just seven full novels during his lifetime (though an eighth in progress at his death was completed by Robert B. Parker). All but Playback have been realized into motion pictures, some several times. In the year before he died, he was elected president of the Mystery Writers of America. He died on March 26, 1959, in La Jolla, California.

Chandler had an immense stylistic influence on American popular literature, and is considered by many to be a founder, along with Dashiell Hammett, James M. Cain and other Black Mask writers, of the hard-boiled school of detective fiction. Chandler's Philip Marlowe, along with Hammett's Sam Spade, are considered by some to be synonymous with "private detective," both having been played on screen by Humphrey Bogart, whom many considered to be the quintessential Marlowe.

Some of Chandler's novels are considered to be important literary works, and three are often considered to be masterpieces: Farewell, My Lovely (1940), The Little Sister (1949), and The Long Goodbye (1953). The Long Goodbye is praised within an anthology of American crime stories as "arguably the first book since Hammett's The Glass Key, published more than twenty years earlier, to qualify as a serious and significant mainstream novel that just happened to possess elements of mystery".


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The Lady in the Lake

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Thursday, January 6, 2022

12the Day of Christmas Author Spotlight: Rheland Richmond



Rheland Richmond

For as long as she can remember Rheland's had her nose stuck in a book, getting lost in the world of someone else's creation (She still does). Her love for writing came from her love for reading. She could never have one without the other. 

Writing has always been a hobby and a cathartic experience for her. There are many stories lost to the never to be completed or published pile but needed to be written at the time.

She's just a girl that loved stories so much she wrote hers. 

Rheland would love to hear from her readers and learn more about Y'all. So if you get a chance... please get in touch.

She also writes Omegaverse as Skye R. Richmond.


FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB GROUP
BOOKBUB /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS
EMAIL: rhelandrichmond@gmail.com



A Family for Keeps
Summary:
Stories of Us #1
After being thrust into unexpected fatherhood four years ago by the tragic loss of his sister, Tristan discovers the baby he's fallen for was accidentally switched at birth.

As soon as he meets the father of the other child, he realizes parenthood wasn't the only surprise Fate had in store for him. 

Nathaniel is everything Tristan always wanted in a partner, but how could he even hope to have a chance with someone under these tragic circumstances?

While Nathaniel is fighting for his daughter's life, Tris discovers a deep need to fight for both of them—for all of them.

Because they're a family now, like it or not, and Tris is determined to do whatever it takes to convince Nathaniel that together, they are a family for keeps.



Christmas for Keeps
Summary:
Stories of Us #2.2
A little Christmas catch up with Tristan and Nathaniel, Teo and Michael and the rest of the gang, as they celebrate Christmas and start building their traditions together as a family.

Enjoy Tristan's attempt to give Nathaniel a Christmas as he has never had and a little peek at what is to come for Cris and Lain.

***This Is Not A Standalone***

9,000 Words Christmas Story, featuring characters from the Stories of Us Series.



Dear Daddy, Please Trust Me
Summary:
Naugthy or Nice #8
Dear Santa, 
I know I have a lot and I shouldn’t ask for more. But all I want is a Daddy that’s okay being a dad too. 

I love my daughter, but I’m still a boy at heart. I know what I’m asking for is hard. Maybe even impossible. But I have to try. 

Sebastian is happy with his life, but there’s something missing. A Daddy to call his own. When he goes on a blind date with a Daddy from his app, he never expects the whole thing is a set up. There’s no way this much younger guy is a Daddy, right? 

Maddox has skeletons of his own. The last thing he wants is to be a Daddy right now, no matter how much he misses it. How much he craves it. But Sebastian needs guiding and his darling little girl touches a part of his heart he thought was long dead.

Can Sebastian earn Maddox’s trust and get the relationship he’s always wanted? 

Dear Daddy, Please Trust Me is part of the Naughty or Nice multi-author series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but there are so many boys hoping that holiday magic will bring them their perfect Daddy, why not grab them all?




Stranded with His Boss

Summary:
Amber Falls #1
Holiday at home, check. Snowstorm, check. Hot boss ... check?

Ford Erickson didn't plan to take his hot, and very rich boss home for Christmas. But when an incoming snowstorm grounds flights and there are no vacancies in the small town of Amber Falls, Ford finds himself in close quarters with the aloof man he’s been lusting over. 

He’s bound to make Santa’s naughty list with all that temptation.

A family Christmas in a small town was not how Sawyer Lancaster expected his holiday to go… and his plans definitely hadn’t included his adorable assistant and his lovely parents welcoming him into their home. More like a holiday in his cold apartment… alone.

But then again, the best gifts don’t always come wrapped in pretty bows.

When the weather clears, will Sawyer find to the courage to accept that maybe, just maybe, he’s found the perfect gift in Ford?



Forever With HIs Boss
Summary:
Amber Falls #2
Ford broke the rules and fell for his boss. Hard. All that time stranded together over Christmas, who could blame him?

And maybe it was the magic of sleigh rides and kisses under the mistletoe, but... Sawyer fell for him too. Or, heck, maybe not. Because now that Sawyer had been called back to NYC, he'd gone radio silent.

Like... nothing, nada, zilch.

He was only supposed to be gone ten days, but now it's been a month and Ford is losing his cool. Would it be too crazy to hop a plane and go looking for him?

But what Ford finds when he gets there only deepens his confusion, because his boss is holding a toddler and suddenly everything Ford had thought about his boss makes him question if he even knows the man he’s fallen for.

Has Sawyer been leading a double-life this whole time and he's just too lovestruck to notice?

Read Stranded With The Boss first to enjoy this finale of Sawyer and Ford's story!



A Family for Keeps

Christmas for Keeps

Dear Daddy, Please Trust Me

Stranded with His Boss

Forever With HIs Boss