🍾🎉📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘🎉🍾: The Poseidon Adventure by Paul Gallico

Summary:

The high-octane thriller that inspired the Academy Award–winning film: On a sinking cruise ship, passengers fight rising water—and each other—to survive.

 

On its maiden voyage, luxury ocean liner SS Poseidon is capsized by a massive undersea earthquake. A handful of survivors must fight for their lives—struggling to make it from the upper deck of the ship to the hull, the only part above water, before the ship sinks. Faced with rising water and the violence of desperate passengers and crewmembers, the group must do everything it can to survive—before time runs out. Adapted into an award-winning film by Irwin Allen, The Poseidon Adventure is a thrilling tale with timeless suspense and excitement.

CHAPTER 1

Rehearsal for Disaster

At seven o'clock, the morning of the 26th day of December, the S.S. Poseidon, 81,000 tons, homeward bound for Lisbon after a month-long Christmas cruise to African and South American ports, suddenly found herself in the midst of an unaccountable swell, 400 miles south-west of the Azores, and began to roll like a pig.

The Poseidon, formerly the R.M.S. Atlantis, the first of the giant transatlantic liners to become outmoded, sold and converted to a combination of cargo and cruise trade, entered the area with her fuel tanks two-thirds empty and no water ballast replacement. The curiously long, low waves she was encountering came at intervals just too far apart to be caught by the lagging synchronization of her out-of-date and partially damaged stabilizers. Thus, she reeled drunkenly from side to side with the result that the motion combined with the hangover from the practically all-night, gala Christmas party and dance made the bulk of her five hundred odd, one-class Travel Consortium Limited passengers miserably and uncompromisingly ill.

The big switchboard serving the cabin telephones began to light up like the Christmas tree decorating the grand dining-saloon. Calls for help swamped the office of the ship's medico, Dr Caravello, a seventy-five-year-old Italian dragged from retirement by the International Syndicate operating the trip, and his assistant Marco, an intern just out of medical school. There were also a head nurse and two sisters. The telephone in the surgery never stopped ringing. Unable to cope personally, the Doctor simply sent around pills and instructions to remain in bed. All this took place in bright tropical sunlight on a sea which, except for the interminable swells, was barely ruffled.

To add to the unhappiness of the retching passengers, things in the cabins came alive. Everything unattached — trunks, hand luggage, bottles — slid from side to side; clothing hung upon pegs took on animation, swaying outwards and back again. Nerves were further jangled by the protesting creaks and groans of the old ship's joints and the distant crashes of breaking crockery. Seasick remedies eventually lost both their potency and psychological magic. By mid-morning as far as the travellers were concerned, their happy home throughout an otherwise gay and uneventful voyage had become a hell.

As always, however, there were a few hardy exceptions, that small percentage of good sailors to be found on every liner which says, 'I never get sick' and don't.

Thus, shortly before noon Mr James Martin, proprietor of a men's haberdashery shop in Evanston, Illinois, travelling alone and unaffected by the movement, telephoned to Mrs Wilma Lewis, a widow from Chicago. Mrs Lewis was not amongst the fortunate and said, 'For God's sake don't bother me! Just let me die quietly.' And when he asked, 'Mayn't I come and see you?' groaned, 'No!' and hung up.

In another cabin Mrs Linda Rogo was abusing her husband, between bouts of being sick, with every obscenity of an experienced vocabulary. Mrs Rogo was an ex-Hollywood starlet and briefly a Broadway actress, convinced that she had lowered herself and sacrificed her career when she married Mike Rogo, plain-clothes detective of the Broadway Strong Arm squad. Between calling him every gutter name she could muster, she developed the theme that he had made her come upon this voyage of which she had hated every minute and now had not even the grace to be ill. Mike Rogo, unable to placate his wife, eventually fled the cabin followed by her curses.

Dr Frank Scott — the Doctor was not an M.D. but a Doctor of Divinity — telephoned Mr Richard Shelby of Detroit and said, 'Hi, Dick!' and got back, 'Hi, Frank!'

'How's the family standing up?'

'Okay, up to now.'

Scott said, 'There goes our squash game.'

'I'll say!'

'If this stops, we might have a try this afternoon.'

'Right!'

'See you at lunch.'

'Okay, Buzz.'

The two men had been drawn together during the cruise by common interest in football and athletics. The Reverend Doctor Scott no more than five years ago had been Frank 'Buzz' Scott, Princeton's All-America full back, all-around athlete, two-time Olympic decathlon champion and mountain climber.

Richard Shelby, Scott's senior by some twenty years, travelling with his family, Vice-President of Cranborne Motors of Detroit, in charge of commercial vehicle design, had been a useful end at Michigan in his day.

Mrs Timker, director of the Gresham Girls, the dancing troupe connected with the floating cabaret which had been entertaining thrice weekly throughout the voyage, though considering herself in the last throes, still had the strength to send around a message to the members of her company, 'No show tonight.' One of the dancers, a thin girl from Bristol, Nona Parry, with red hair and a pale, somewhat too-small face who should have been sick but was not, said, 'Oh goody! I can wash my hair.'

At eleven-thirty the only three passengers visible in the smoke- room were an English alcoholic called Tony Bates, his girl friend Pamela Reid and Hubie Muller, a lone American from San Francisco.

The Englishman, who had been nicknamed The Beamer, and Pamela had their legs coiled around bar stools which had been firmly screwed to the floor, while the batman served them their double martinis in deep whisky tumblers to keep them from slopping over as the ship canted. Neither of them were suffering from hangovers or mal de mer, as they were both amiably and hazily drunk and had been since the night before and on through the morning, not having been to bed at all.

Muller, a wealthy bachelor of no occupation, in his early forties, man about Europe and darling of every Mama with an eligible daughter on two continents, had wedged himself, feet up, into one of the leather corners of the smoke-room with a book and a half bottle of champagne. He was not ill but the book was bad, the champagne would not stay in the glass, the cruise had not been particularly successful for him and he was bored stiff. The ceaseless swooning of the ship he took as a personal affront.

In his cabin Mr Rosen, a retired delicatessen owner, queried his wife, 'Are you all right, Mamma? You feeling all right?'

Belle Rosen replied, 'Certainly. Why shouldn't I be feeling all right?'

Mr Rosen, who in his striped pyjamas and hair mussed managed to look like a small, plump child, said, 'I hear everybody is pretty sick.'

'Well, I'm not sick,' said Belle. She was a fat woman whose bulk almost filled her bed and she had so managed to plug the remaining space with pillows and a suitcase that she was fairly well immobilized against the motion.

Down in the ladies' hairdressing saloon on 'D' deck the hairdresser struggled to work on a blonde, shoulder-length wig that had been sent down to her by Mrs Gleeson of cabin M. 119, to be washed and set, with instructions that it be delivered to her no later than nine o'clock that evening. Marie, the hairdresser, was wondering when and where Mrs Gleeson was going to wear it if this kept up. In cabin M. 119 five decks up, Mrs Gleeson was beyond caring about anything.

Another widow, Mrs Reid, was not only desperately sick but suffering mental anguish as well over the disastrous turn the voyage had taken for her. In part its purpose had been in the hopes of finding a husband for her rather dowdy daughter. Pamela had had the bad taste to become appallingly infatuated with the most unsuitable man on the ship and with whom she was now no doubt drinking at one of the too many available bars.

Completely unaffected by the nauseating motion was Miss Mary Kinsale, spinster, head book-keeper of the branch of Browne's Bank in Camberley, near London, a reticent, tidy little woman whose outstanding feature was a huge length of glossy brown hair which she wore drawn tightly back from her face and coiled into a tremendous bun at the back of her head and descending to the nape of her neck. She had a small prim mouth but her eyes were alert and ingenuously interested.

An attempt at having breakfast served to her in bed had been unsuccessful since the movement of the vessel had made it necessary to suspend all tray service and she was hungry. She had picked up her telephone, asked for the dining-room and inquired, 'Will there be any lunch today?' to which the rather horrified voice of the assistant chief steward had repeated, 'Lunch!'

Miss Kinsale at once said apologetically, 'Oh dear, I don't mean to be any trouble to anyone.'

The voice at the other end also apologized, 'No, no, madam, not at all. It's just that we hadn't been expecting many. We'll be only too delighted to have someone to serve. But I'm afraid it will be only cold food. We shan't be cooking in the kitchens.'

'Oh, that will be quite all right,' Miss Kinsale replied. 'Thank you so much. Anything will do.' Not even in the twenty-seven or so days of the cruise that far had she been able to accustom herself to luxury treatment or overcome her shyness at being served.

When at one o'clock in the afternoon the dining-room page, whose duty it was to signal that they were open for business, came staggering along the slanting corridors striking 'Bim, bom, bum, bim' on his portable xylophone gong, the sound hitherto only too welcome to the ears of the for ever hungry, he collected this time only a meagre pied-piped train of followers. They came from their various quarters on Main and 'A' decks, lurching, slipping, sliding, clinging on to the guide-ropes that had been put up, shouting warnings to one another, negotiating the stairs a step at a time since the lifts were not running. It was actually dangerous going but these people of lusty constitutions and unaffected semicircular canals of the inner ear were seized by a certain camaraderie of hazard and the novelty of the careening platform beneath their feet which caused them either at one moment a laborious uphill climb and at the next to be launched like something out of a catapult. Thus half a hundred or so hardy souls gathered in the dining-saloon below on 'R' for Restaurant Deck.

The Shelby family: Richard, Jane his wife, Susan their seventeen-year-old daughter and Robin aged ten, made their slightly raucous way inching down the grand staircase.

For the fifth time tubby little Manny Rosen struggled to his feet with an attempted bow to say, 'Welcome to The Strong Stomach Club!'

His wife Belle said, 'Oh stop it, Manny! Ain't it bad enough without you making a joke?'

The Rosens had a table for two on the extreme port side of the dining-saloon by one of the big square, brass-bound windows giving out on to the sea that slid by no more than a few yards below. Next to them Hubie Muller occupied another table for two by himself. He also had had a standing reservation for a t?te-à- t?te table in the Observation Grill topside, in case an intimate friendship should occur during the voyage. An inveterate traveller he had made half a dozen crossings New York–Cherbourg, Southampton–New York in the days when the Poseidon had been the Atlantis and he knew all the ropes. The hoped-for situation however had never developed.

All the tables along the windows were twosomes but the others seated up to eight diners to promote get-togetherness. Close by the Rosens and near one of the entrances to the serving pantries, from which the stewards emerged with their heaped-up trays was the one named the grab-bag table by Susan Shelby for its mixture of persons. Its full complement numbered the Reverend Doctor Scott, Miss Kinsale, James Martin, the Rogos and Mr Kyrenos the Third Engineer Officer.

Miss Kinsale and James Martin the Evanston haberdasher, were already there when Mike Rogo arrived alone to receive his induction speech from Manny who added, 'Where's Linda? She quittin' on us?'

Rogo said, 'Linda ain't speakin' to me. She thinks it's me rockin' the boat.'

As the Shelby family staggered to the adjoining table, the ship heeled over again, catching young Robin Shelby without a handhold and yelling, 'Yay-yay-yay-yay-yay!' all the way, he shot down the side of the saloon to collide violently with Mike Rogo and bounce off him on to the floor. 'Wow!' he said.

Robin was a sturdy boy who was going to be as athletic as his father. But Mike Rogo picked him up off the floor as though he had been an infant and set him on his feet with, 'You could'a hurt yourself, sonny. You better hold on to somethin'.' Rogo, a hundred-and-fifty-pounder was himself as strong as a little bull.

Martin asked of the steward Peters, 'Say, what's going on here, anyway? We're in a calm sea and the old tub is falling all over herself.'

Peters said, 'I can't exactly say, sir. There's probably been a storm somewhere ahead of us. You often get swells like that then.'

The Shelbys had got themselves seated when Tony Bates and Pamela Reid somehow made a perfectly normal, straightforward descent down the centre of the wide staircase and as steadfastly marched across the saloon to his table for two on the fat starboard side. In some mysterious fashion the alcohol in which they were soaked contrived to counteract the gyrations of the liner.

'Oh look, Mom!' Susan cried, 'The Beamer's made it with his girl. Aren't they wonderful? How does she do it? If I take just a sip of sherry it makes me feel funny.'

Richard Shelby said, 'Hollow leg.' He and his wife were a handsome couple and their daughter a fresh, gay creature. She had her father's somewhat square jawline and dark hair and her mother's refinement and vivacity combined with the American schoolgirl's sexless figure.

The new arrivals were too far even for shouting, so Manny Rosen could only stand up and wave a welcome, for he liked them. The Beamer beamed back.

A further scattering of passengers made their precarious way into the dining-saloon: Greeks, Belgians, a family of eight from Düsseldorf by the extraordinary name of Augenblick and a dozen or so others including British, Americans and some hardy Scandinavians. Rosen did not attempt to include them in the fold of The Strong Stomach Club since they were distributed at tables far removed over the vast area of the room. This honour he reserved for the little group who through the neighbourliness of the seating arrangements had come to acknowledge one another during the voyage.

Lunch, at least to Robin Shelby, was threatening to develop into something exciting. Fiddles or racks were up on the tables to keep plates and cutlery from sliding to the floor and Peters with Acre his partner, the two stewards who served the four tables, performed ballets of equilibrium as they balanced trays.

The six-foot-four of the Reverend Frank Scott came striding to his table rather giving the impression that he was impelling the ship with his legs than that the rolling vessel was moving him.

Manny Rosen started to say, 'Welcome to ...' but when Belle put her hand firmly on his arm, changed it to, 'Hi, Frank! We knew you'd make it.'

Throughout the voyage it had been difficult to think of Scott as 'The Reverend'. Nearly everyone called him Frank or Buzz with the exception of Miss Kinsale who, with her more British respect for the American cloth, insisted upon addressing him as Dr Scott, and Rogo who referred to him as either Parson or Padre and managed to make both sound faintly mocking. The Europeans on board were quite baffled by him. He was so young and his sports achievements still so recent that the American contingent was unable to see him as anything but Buzz Scott, Princeton's star full-back, two-time Olympic decathlon champion, skier, conqueror of Andes Mountain peaks and perpetual winner in the athletic lists.

Rarely off the sports pages during his college years he continued to make news during his studies at Union Theological Seminary as one of the party to climb the never before subdued San Jacinto peak in the Andes. At twenty-nine Scott was still a hustler and a bustler, an overpowering person, crew-cut, glowing with health and just saved from All-American-boy beauty by the wavering line of a broken nose. He had a direct, frank look-you-right-in-the-eye gaze that was both attractive and compelling and yet in a way also vaguely disconcerting, something undefinable and slightly disturbing behind the frankness. When he was at his games the glare of combat that came into his eyes was more suggestive of a heavyweight prize-fighter than a Minister of the Gospel.

It was certainly true that he was all over the ship during the cruise, slashing bullet shots into unbeatable corners on the squash court; pounding out five miles around the promenade deck with a train of admiring youngsters in his wake, shattering clay pigeons without a miss at the sun deck skeet shoots; overwhelming opponents at deck tennis.

His bronze torso had been on exhibition at the pool side. He daily violated the pulleys and exercise apparatus in the ship's gymnasium or put on gloves and toyed with the instructor there, a British ex-middleweight champion.

Jane Shelby once remarked to her husband that, for her liking, he took up just slightly too much space. Her thoughts about his eyes she kept to herself for it seemed too absurd to suggest that so famous a public sports figure might harbour a touch of the fanatic except when he seemed to have carried the aura of the football field over into his own peculiar brand of evangelism.

Passengers and crew struggle to escape an ocean liner turned upside down.

Release Date: December 12, 1972
Release Time: 117 minutes

Director: Ronald Neame

Cast:
Gene Hackman as Reverend Frank Scott
Ernest Borgnine as Detective Lieutenant Mike Rogo
Stella Stevens as Linda Rogo
Red Buttons as James Martin
Carol Lynley as Nonnie Parry
Shelley Winters as Belle Rosen
Jack Albertson as Manny Rosen
Roddy McDowall as Acres
Pamela Sue Martin as Susan Shelby
Arthur O'Connell as Chaplain John
Eric Shea as Robin Shelby
Leslie Nielsen as Captain Harrison
Fred Sadoff as Mr. Linarcos
Byron Webster as the Purser
Jan Arvan as Dr. Caravello
Sheila Mathews as the ship's nurse
John Crawford as Chief Engineer
Erik L. Nelson as Mr. Tinkham
Ernie Orsatti as Terry

Awards:

45th Academy Awards - March 12, 1973

Best Supporting Actress - Shelley Winters - Nominated

Best Art Direction - Art Direction: William J. Creber; Set Decoration: Raphaël Bretton - Nominated

Best Cinematography - Harold E. Stine - Nominated

Best Costume Design - Paul Zastupnevich - Nominated

Best Film Editing - Harold F. Kress - Nominated

Best Original Dramatic Score - John Williams - Nominated

Best Song – Original for the Picture - "The Morning After" Music and Lyrics by Al Kasha and Joel Hirschhorn - Won

Best Sound - Theodore Soderberg and Herman Lewis - Nominated

Best Visual Effects (Special Achievement Award) - L. B. Abbott and A. D. Flowers - Won

26th BAFTAs - February 28, 1973

Best Actor in a Leading Role - Gene Hackman - Won

Best Actress in a Supporting Role - Shelley Winters - Nominated

30th Golden Globes - January 28, 1973

Best Motion Picture – Drama - Nominated

Best Supporting Actress – Motion Picture - Shelley Winters - Won

Best Original Score – Motion Picture - John Williams - Nominated

Best Original Song – Motion Picture - "The Morning After" Music and Lyrics by Al Kasha and Joel Hirschhorn - Nominated

Paul Gallico

Paul Gallico (1897-1976) was an American novelist and sportswriter. Born in New York City, he graduated from Columbia University and became the sports editor and columnist for the New York Daily News, where he became known for asking champion boxer Jack Dempsey to spar with him during an interview. He founded the Golden Gloves amateur boxing competition, and wrote the book that inspired the movie The Pride of the Yankees, starring Gary Cooper.

Gallico is known for his short stories and novels, several of which were adapted to TV and film. His short story The Snow Goose received the O. Henry Award for short fiction; his novel Love of Seven Dolls was adapted into Lili, an Oscar-winning film.

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🎅🎄⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine⏳🎄🎅: The Rest of Our Lives by Helena Stone

Summary:

Mitch & Cian #5

A year after their first kiss, Mitch and Cian have settled into their relationship and life in Dublin. There’ve been ups and downs and one or two unexpected turns in the road, but through it all they’ve gone from strength to strength.

Going home to Castleforest for Christmas means having to stay with their own families. Neither Mitch nor Cian enjoys being apart, but the sting of separation fades in the wake of a surprise from Mitch’s mother, and reconnecting with old and very dear friends lifts their spirits further.

Back in the city for New Year’s Eve, they throw a party for their friends and at last acknowledge the depth of their feelings for each other and the ties that will bind them for the rest of their lives.

This last instalment in the Mitch & Cian series comes with delightful surprises, fabulous parties, and declarations that will make your heart sing.

Original Review December 2019:

What better day than New Year's Eve to read the concluding entry in the Mitch and Cian series?  It's sad to see the story end but riding along on the journey of their first year together has been romantic, humorous, realistic, and simply put: entertaining and a pure delight.

I don't really think there is much I can say about The Rest of our Lives that I haven't said in the previous entries other than don't miss out and don't let the novella size fool you because Mitch and Cian's love story is perfect just as it is and jam packed to the rafters with high quality storytelling.

There's just something magical about this one(the whole series really) not just because it's the holidays or because it's their one year anniversary but because of . . . well you'll have to read to decide for yourself, trust me you wont' regret it😉.  Another holiday romance gem to enjoy for years to come.

BTW: Mitch's mom being a Star Wars fan is such a lovely treat.  As a lifelong devoted SW nerd it always adds a special flare when a character(be it main, secondary, or cameo doesn't really matter) is too and when that character is a woman, that's an even bigger dessert special because too often it's the male character that is the fan so for that element, Thank You, Helena Stone💙

RATING:

Chapter One
“This is going to be weird.” Mitch looked out of the bus window. It was after five in the afternoon, and night had fallen. The bus’s headlights lit up a road sign, and Mitch knew they were less than half an hour from Castleforest.

“Not being together for a week, you mean?” Cian sounded about as enthusiastic about the idea as Mitch felt.

“Yeah,” Mitch concurred. “Do you think our families will ever get so comfortable with us being a couple that they’ll allow us to share a room while visiting?”

The reflection of Cian’s gaze caught Mitch’s in the dark glass, and for a moment, they kept each other captive there.

“I don’t think it’s us being a couple they’re having an issue with,” Cian eventually said. “The idea of us actually sleeping together, never mind having sex, is probably easier to deal with on a ‘what I can’t see doesn’t exist’ sorta level.”

“Do you reckon it would be the same if one of us was a girl?”

“Probably not.” Cian frowned. “Having said that, we’re together less than a year, and they probably still see us as children rather than adults, so who knows?”

It wasn’t the end of the world of course. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d spend time apart since they’d moved in together, four months earlier. On more than one occasion, Mitch had gone back to Castleforest on his own for a weekend when Cian had had a match, just as Cian sometimes went home without Mitch to make up for the times he couldn’t make it. This felt different, though. Being alone because they were in different parts of the country was unavoidable. A separation due to parental overprotectiveness or prejudice—Mitch wasn’t sure what to call it—stung.

“Oh, well,” Mitch said, deciding to keep things in perspective and not ruin their week home before it even started. “It’s only for a week, and it’s not as if we won’t see each other during the day. It could be worse. Imagine if your family lived in Cork. We’d be half the country away from each other.”

Cian’s fingers brushed across Mitch’s hand, which rested on his thigh. Mitch relished the intimacy of the gesture, no matter how fleeting. At the same time, he resented that they couldn’t just hold hands for the duration of the journey.  Surely one day they would be able to be as affectionate in public as heterosexual couples without the fear of offending people? He had to believe that; anything else would be too frustrating.

“Have you any idea what plans your mother has made?” Cian asked. “Because my parents have been rather vague, apart from telling me that we’ll be celebrating Christmas day as we’ve always done in the past.”

Mitch thought back to his last conversation with his mother. He hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but now that Cian mentioned it, he remembered she’d been rather circumspect when it came to details.

“She asked me what I wanted to eat for Christmas and made some vague references to surprises.” He chuckled. “Maybe I should remind her I’m legally an adult. She hasn’t teased me with secrecy since I stopped believing in Santa.” He turned to Cian, fully expecting him to laugh along or at least smile. Instead, he encountered a thoughtful expression.

“I wonder what they’re up to?” Cian mused.

“Up to?”

“It’s too much of a coincidence otherwise.” Cian focused on Mitch, his eyes gleaming. “My mother used almost the exact same words with me, last time we spoke.”

For a moment Mitch turned into the boy he’d been when he was seven and still firmly believed in the magic of Christmas, reindeer, and Santa Claus. Excitement rushed through him as he tried to figure out what their parents might be planning.

Something bright illuminated the darkness as they drove into town.

“Are those new?” Cian nodded in the direction of the lights that stretched in rows running across the main street at regular intervals, creating an illusion of ice and snow.

“I think so.” Mitch hadn’t paid much attention to Castleforest’s Christmas decorations in the past. They were there for a few weeks before disappearing again for a year, in the same way leaves came and went on trees.

Two minutes later, as the bus drove on without them, Mitch stared down the street and reconsidered. “It does look better. More festive, I guess.” He focused on Cian, reluctant to take the next step on his journey home.

“What are we like?” Cian grinned ruefully. “Our families aren’t so bad that we have to worry about going to different homes.”

Mitch smiled, unable to deny that they were being silly. “Where do you want to meet tomorrow?”

“At the library?” Cian suggested. “For old times’ sake?”

“Works for me,” Mitch said calmly while pushing down a burst of excitement because Cian had picked the place where they’d first met, almost exactly a year earlier.

He looked up and down the street, finding it mostly deserted. Given that it was dinner time on a Sunday in December, that was hardly surprising, but it served his purpose perfectly. He leaned forward, angled his head, and pressed his lips against Cian’s. If anybody did see the kiss, tough. In a town as small as Castleforest, their relationship had to be common knowledge. He wasn’t inclined to force public displays of intimacy on unsuspecting passers-by, but he refused to hide who he was or, more importantly, who he was with any longer.

Cian returned the far too short kiss, smirking when he pulled back. “What a difference a year makes.” He fixed the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and took a step. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Ten-ish?"

“See you then.”

Watching Cian walk away toward the estate where he lived, Mitch wondered if he’d ever get tired of looking at his boyfriend. He’d been attracted to Cian long before they’d exchanged their first words, and far from lessening, the feeling had only strengthened over time. Cian’s training regime since he’d taken up rugby again helped to make an always tantalizing physique even more irresistible too.

Only after Cian turned a corner and disappeared from sight did Mitch set off in the opposite direction. He resisted the temptation to walk by the old community center on his way home. He’d meet Cian there tomorrow, and it would be the long way around. He had no doubt his mother was eagerly awaiting his arrival, and if he were honest, he looked forward to seeing her too. 

 The front door to the house he’d grown up in opened before Mitch had a chance to put his key in the lock. His mother’s beaming face welcomed him home, and his answering smile was almost certainly just as delighted. Yes, Mitch would miss Cian, especially at night, when he’d have to settle for sleeping on his own, without a warm body to wrap himself around. However, he couldn’t deny that his mother’s joy whenever he visited made him feel warm and loved.

“There you are.” His mother pulled him into a tight hug before scrutinizing his face. “You look well.” She released him and walked into the house. “Do you want to eat now or later?”

“I have a choice?” Mitch snickered. This was new. His whole life his mother had told him what time dinner would be ready, and it had been up to him to make sure he was present at the appointed hour.

“Sure.” She grinned at him as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. She probably does.

“I’m having takeaway delivered. I was thinking fish and chips?”

Mitch’s mouth watered, but he was surprised. “Delivered? I’m impressed. Castleforest is moving up in the world.”

“Oh, stop it. We’re not that much of a backwater.” But his mother smiled at him, taking the sting out of her words.

“I’ll just put my stuff away,” Mitch said. “Then I’m good with whatever you want to do.”   

An hour later Mitch settled on the couch in the living room with a full belly. “That was great.”

“Good. Does it make up for having to share a living space with your old ma for a few days?”

Mitch didn’t need mind-reading powers to recognize the question wasn’t only meant as a joke. He sighed.

“Living with you has never been hard,” he said honestly. “It isn’t difficult now either. It’s just…” Mitch didn’t want to upset his mother so soon after arriving, but he didn’t want to lie to her either.

“What?”

He shrugged. “It’s a bit frustrating that nobody minds that Cian and I live together in Dublin, but at the same time won’t allow us to sleep in the same house when we’re here.”

His mother gave him a look he knew all too well. This stare indicated that, in her opinion, he hadn’t thought hard enough before opening his mouth. Unfortunately, recognizing her expression didn’t mean he knew the reason behind it.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe Cian’s parents would like to have him to themselves for a few days to catch up? Or that I might like spending some time with my son without having to share his attention?” Mitch gaped at his mother, disinclined to tell her that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

She sighed. “We’re not stupid. We know you two are all grown up and living your own life together. But it feels like only yesterday you came running to me because you’d fallen off your bike and hurt yourself. Give an old woman a chance to adjust to the fact that you’re no longer a child.”

Mitch got up and crossed the room. When he reached his ma in her comfortable chair, he leaned forward and hugged her. “You’re not an old woman,” he whispered while relaxing into her embrace. He allowed himself to revisit the younger version of himself she’d described, surprised to find he welcomed the security her arms offered as much now as he always had.

“I’m sorry.” Mitch murmured the words against her shoulder. He hadn’t meant to upset his mother. “It’s just that I’m so used to being together with Cian it feels a bit weird when we’re not. Especially since for once we’re home at the same time.” He straightened and sat on the armrest of his mother’s chair.

“It’s okay.” She patted his leg. “I do understand, you know. I used to be young once, a long, long time ago.” She looked up at him with a cheeky glint in her eye. “Did I mention I have a surprise for you?”

“You did.” The sudden change in subject caught Mitch off guard. “I thought you’d keep me in suspense until Christmas.”

“That would defeat the purpose.”

The plot thickened, and Mitch was still none the wiser. “Well then, don’t keep me hanging.”

“We had a raffle in work,” his mother said, at first glance apropos of nothing. “I won the first prize.”

“Congratulations?” Mitch had no idea why his mother made such a big deal about having won a box of chocolates or something similar, but he was willing to wait her out.

“I’ve now got two tickets to see the Symphony Orchestra perform the music from Star Wars. Tomorrow night, actually.”

“Nice one.” Mitch was delighted for her. His mother was a huge Star Wars fan. In fact, she’d watched the movies so often over the years Mitch knew large chunks of them off by heart. “But what has that got to do with me?” Surely, she hadn’t made him come all the way home today, only to travel back to Dublin tomorrow?

“I was wondering if you’d let us use your apartment for the night.” Her gaze bored into him as if she was expecting a certain reaction. “Marian is coming with me, and neither of us fancies driving all the way home at midnight. Since your place will be empty...”

Mitch chuckled. “We have two bedrooms, remember? There’s no reason you can’t stay with us, even when we’re there.” He sobered as he tried to remember what state they’d left the place in before leaving, suppressing a sigh of relief when he recalled they’d done a rather thorough cleanup because they didn’t want to return to chaos. “Of course, you can stay there.” But how is that a surprise for me? He kept that thought to himself.

“And now you’re wondering how me winning concert tickets constitutes a surprise for you.”

Mitch blinked at his mother, shocked to discover that four months after he’d moved out, she could still read his mind with ease.

“I’m disappointed.” The sparkle in his mother’s eyes belied her words. “I thought you would have recognized your opportunity by now.”

The beginnings of an idea formed in Mitch’s mind. Surely, she doesn’t mean...?

“How did I manage to raise such an eejit?” The sigh she expelled was obviously exaggerated. “Why don’t you get on your phone and see if Cian wants to spend tomorrow evening and night here?”

“Really?”

His mother gave him a blank stare. “Really.” She reached for the remote. “Now, either settle or go and do your own thing. I’m watching The Empire Strikes Back tonight.

Mitch reached for his mother, hugging her again and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks. That’s the best surprise ever.” He got up. “Enjoy your movie. I’m going up to my room.”

He was texting Cian before he was halfway up the stairs.

Sunday's Short Stack

Box Set

Helena Stone
Helena Stone can’t remember a life before words and reading. After growing up in a household where no holiday or festivity was complete without at least one new book, it’s hardly surprising she now owns more books than shelf space while her Kindle is about to explode.

The urge to write came as a surprise. The realisation that people might enjoy her words was a shock to say the least. Now that the writing bug has well and truly taken hold, Helena can no longer imagine not sharing the characters in her head and heart with the rest of the world.

Having left the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam for the peace and quiet of the Irish Country side she divides her time between reading, writing, long and often wet walks with the dog, her part-time job in a library, a grown-up daughter and her ever loving and patient husband.

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The Rest of Our Lives #5

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Box Set

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Series

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🎅🎄8th Day of Christmas Author Spotlight🎄🎅: Connor Crowe

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 ;)

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Stealing His Heart

Summary:

Nox Bay Pack #1

Can the pack he's been sent to rob become his new home, and the alpha he's crossed own his heart?

Felix is on a mission: steal a priceless artifact from the most dangerous wolves in the land. The reward? Freedom at last from the criminal syndicate that raised him and other orphaned omegas. When he stops to save a man in peril, the guards close in. Getting captured wasn't part of the plan. Neither was meeting the intimidatingly sexy Pack Alpha. Soon, he finds himself questioning if he really wants to leave...

As the Alpha of Nox Bay, Markus is bound by duty to protect his land and his people. So when a thieving fox appears in their territory, it's his job to punish him. Except...this fox is different than the others. He smells suspiciously like Markus's fated mate. But can true love blossom between sworn enemies? 

When Felix's crime family come to reclaim their 'investment', both men must make a choice. A choice that will set both their futures in motion—and the future of the little one growing inside Felix.

Stealing His Heart is the first book in the Nox Bay Pack series. Readers should be advised for mentions of attempted assault and trafficking, but don't worry—you'll find mpreg elements, found family, low angst, no cheating, and always a happily ever after! Welcome to the pack <3

Tentacles with Benefits

Summary:

One man. Ten tentacles. You do the math.

A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, even if that means taking a night watchman position at the local aquarium to pay the bills. Soon, Evan learns that the job comes with some very unique "benefits"...

A chance discovery leaves him helpless before a dangerous creature. Ten tentacles stretch him to his limits and show him pleasure he never imagined in this spicy short story.

Mated Under the Mistletoe

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!

Ruby Heat

Summary:

Love in Diamond Falls #1

Welcome to Diamond Falls, a small town with big secrets. Join the Gemstone Guardians as they learn to work together, harness their powers, and find love with their true mates.

Flighty omega Wesley Sparks always thought his grandfather’s stories were just that… stories.

When his grandfather’s death leaves him with a strange, precious ruby, he becomes a target of an otherworldly darkness, forcing him to face the truth: the mythical Gemstone Guardians are real, and he’s the newest recruit.

He finds temporary safety in the small, secret enclave of Diamond Falls, where he learns to harness his gem and finds others like him. Others like his childhood best friend… Daniel.

Sweet alpha Daniel Anderson is haunted by his missed chance at love...

Lonely and jaded, Dan pours energy into his donut shop. But love can’t keep a business afloat, and Dan needs cash--fast. When he gets a mysterious invitation and a chance to save his business, he doesn’t think twice. What could go wrong?

An ancient evil gathers...

Dan has been dreaming of Wes for ten years, and can barely believe it when they meet again. Their reunion sizzles, prompting Wes to look at his old best friend in an entirely new light. Dan won’t let this second chance escape him--but can best friends turn into lovers?

The gem awakens a dormant omega gene…

Suddenly and unexpectedly pregnant, Wes and his ragtag team of Guardians must master their gems before the danger falls upon them, and he loses everything he never knew he wanted.

This knotty story contains an excitable guinea pig shifter, a smoking-hot shower, a vampire librarian, and one big, hard, long… tower. Ruby Heat is the first book in the Love in Diamond Falls series by fantasy romance author Connor Crowe. Fans of Harry Potter and Sailor Moon will love this new, exciting love story. Adults only, please!

The Dragon's Runaway Omega

Summary:

Darkvale Dragons #1

An Omega on the Run…

Alec Cipher is having a bad day. The superstitious elders of his village demand a seasonal sacrifice to ward off dragon attacks. And lucky him—he’s the Chosen. Desperate to escape and forge a new life for himself, Alec stows away on a passing carriage late one night. Little does he know, the driver of the carriage is an undercover dragon!

An Outcast Alpha…

Alpha dragon Lucien wanders the wilds after a bloody mutiny stripped him of his mate, his powers, and his homeland. On one of his midnight journeys, he unknowingly picks up a stowaway—a little omega human. And he smells delicious. What starts out as annoyance transforms into something greater the longer they spend time together. With an extremist clan on the rise, can Lucien save both his people and his heart? Can Alec love a beast whose brethren have terrorized his people for centuries?

Can they find a new life together in one another’s arms?

Sometimes love is the greatest adventure...welcome to Darkvale.

The Dragon's Runaway Omega is the first book in the Darkvale Dragons series and is filled with all the things you crave: smoking-hot dragons, magic, mpreg, knotting, and of course, adorable children. The series takes place in a rich epic fantasy world torn by battle. If you're looking for a world filled with lust, danger, and spice, you've come to the right place.

Stealing His Heart

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

Tentacles with Benefits

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

Mated Under the Mistletoe

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK

AUDIBLE  /  GOODREADS TBR

Ruby Heat

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

The Dragon's Runaway Omega

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR