The Killer Kept Me by Davidson King
Summary:Nothing about Em’s life is simple. He’s treated worse than anyone in the house, punished for every minor infraction, and has zero chance of ever escaping his current situation. He dreams that someday he’ll be free of this nightmare and finally find someone who will want to keep him.
That dream may come true sooner than he thinks.
Saros Tancredi is the most dangerous and powerful man in all of Eastbury. The loyalty he has to his family is unparalleled to anything else. When he wants something, he gets it. He rarely worries and lives without fear. All of that changes one night when he’s faced with his own mortality. When it seems like it will all end, out of nowhere, a stranger jumps in and saves his life.
Saros and Em live separate lives in the underworld. Saros is the most compelling man Em has ever known. Em is the savior Saros never knew he needed. When secrets long buried emerge in the midst of a current war, they threaten to tear away any chance the two men have of finding a happy life together.
One thing Saros and Em know for sure—they’re not going down without a fight.
Original Review February Book of the Month 2025:
I can't begin to express how much I needed this book right now. I'm going to take a few minutes to be a bit personal but I think it helps me express my feelings on the story while sticking to my spoil-free zone reviewing. With my mother's passing in January my reading mojo nosedived even worse than in 2020 with the pandemic so when I started Davidson King's The Killer Who Kept Me, I knew it would take longer than my typical timeframe. I'll be honest, I read the first chapter and as much as I was intrigued and excited to find out what level of dangerous, bordering on sadistic, mayhem the author had in store, it took me 36 hours before I got back to chapter 2 and probably another 24 before chapter 3. Now that had nothing to do with the book or the author but all me.
BUT . . .
When I hit chapter 4, I was having a hard day as it was 6 weeks since my mother's passing so everything brought me to tears but there was something about that chapter that kept me reading and before I knew it I was several chapters in. Not only had I read more than one chapter of anything at a time for the first time in over 3 weeks, I realized I hadn't teared up , Davidson King had done the one thing that normally only Star Wars has ever been able to do: distract me enough to completely shut everything out and feel a little stronger coming out the other side. For that I will forever be grateful, Davidson King, thank you.
Now I'll freely admit it still took another 48 hours before I finished the book but oh what a story. Em(short for November which is absolutely lovely name) and Saros are complete opposites both in nature and nurture. Em has been mistreated(to put it mildly) his whole life and Saros has family(both blood and found) that love and support him. First appearances they shouldn't work but they do, it sounds cliche but they complete each other. You just want to wrap Em up in dangerous levels of bubblewrap and then a soul-crushing Mama Bear hug to keep him safe but I think Saros might do a better job😉. The whole cast of characters is just so perfect, from cute and adorable Maeve to nasty and evil Ramsey, each one plays a part to bring this tale together.
I'm going to end here so I don't reveal too much and spoil any of the dangerous and fun mayhem within the covers of The Killer Who Kept Me. Just so you know, you won't be bored. Even if you have a good inkling of what might be down the road for the characters, it's the journey down said road that is deliciously heart-pounding.
This author has a unique talent, she can create such danger, mayhem, retribution, and revenge and still manages to tell a lovely romance full of heart and strength. I've said it before and I'll say it again(and probably many more times for years to come😉) this is an author that is a true storyteller, a Seanachaidh(Scotland & Ireland), a Dastango(India), a Griot(West Africa), a Skald(Vikings of Norway and Iceland) just to name a few titles around the world. If you've never partook in her creative genius then this is a perfect place to start as it has all the elements that will pull you in and keep you hooked.
Original Audiobook Review August 2025:
I debated about jumping in on the audio already. First, I rarely listen to audios that are only 6-7 months after my initial read. Second, 2025 has sucked in our household since the passing of my mother in January, our air is just so thick with heartache. Third, my dad's health hasn't been the best and is getting worse which has increased my stress levels so it's been hard to concentrate at times. BUT, truth is in a way, it was the second reason that told me to go ahead. This is one of the 3 or 4 books I read shortly after my mom passed and the honestly, Davidson King's words helped me a bit by distracting me with her story, at least while I was reading it so I thought, maybe the audio will do the same.
Sure enough it did!
As for the narration, I don't think I've listened to a book by these two before, Alexander Neal and Parker Douglass. They did a wonderful job bringing Em and Saros journey to life. I may not have felt like I was right there in the room as the mayhem was happening but I was definitely pulled in more than just a reader/listener hearing the tale. Definitely ticked the box I title "feel like listening to Suspense". For those who don't know, Suspense is an old radio show out of the 40s and I've been a huge fan/listener/collector of old radio shows since I was 10 so this ticked box may not mean much to many but for me, it's a huge one when listening and reviewing audiobooks. Setting the scene, grabbing my attention, knowing I would be watching the radio even though there is no picture, yep, these are factors that tell me I found a re-listening experience for years to come.
No spoilers, but if you read or listen to The Killer Who Kept Me, I hope you don't need the emotional distraction I did but if you do, this is the story to help you step outside yourself for awhile(that is if you like mayhem and if you're reading this review I'm guessing you are😉). If you don't need the life distraction I did, you'll still be pulled out of your world so be sure you're prepared for that possibility, you won't be disappointed.
Blitz by RJ Scott & VL Locey
Railers Legacy #3
When hockey's biggest ego meets football's golden boy, sparks fly, and defenses crumble.
Cole "Trick" Harrington III has made a career out of pretending he doesn't care. Not about his past, his name, or the father who built a megachurch empire off judgment and control. Trick torched every bridge back to Atlanta, deliberately wrecked his career, and buried his truth so deep even he started to forget it. Now traded to the Harrisburg Railers, he's skating on thin ice, with a reputation for arrogance and a career teetering on the edge. The last thing he needs is a PR stunt tying him to a squeaky-clean football star, particularly one who is sexy, strong, and always freaking happy. As Trick is forced to confront his growing attraction and deal with the past he's spent years ignoring-including the younger sister he never knew existed-he realizes that the most brutal battles aren't fought on the ice. They're fought in the heart. And this time, he has to stop running.
Tom Fulkowski has led a charmed life. Starting with a typical middle-class childhood in Philly, his skill at catching quarterbacks has propelled him to the heights of pro football. He's got the rings, he's got the cash, and he's got the cars. He's also got a bad back, achy knees, and a yearning to move on. With one final season to play with the Philadelphia Pumas before retirement, Tom looks forward to that next phase of his life. He's just not sure what the next phase is exactly. Then, out of the blue, he meets a wild-eyed hockey player with a chip the size of the Liberty Bell on his shoulder. As he and Cole grow closer, he finds a depth to the younger man that resonates deeply. If only Cole would slow down and let Tom catch up to him, they might win it all.
Blitz is an MM romance featuring a bad-boy hockey player with a past he can't outrun, a football legend on the verge of retirement, a forced PR stunt that might turn into something real, and a game-changing journey to their happy-ever-after.
Original Review August 2025:
I gotta start by saying, I never expected Cole “Trick” Harrington III to get his own story and I definitely could not see myself rooting for him after his behavior in Speed, the first entry in Scott & Locey's newest hockey series, Railers Legacy. He was only in a few scenes but he did not exactly ingratiate himself to the readers with his interactions with Noah Gunnarsson, to say he was a jerk, is an understatement. When I learned Trick was going to get his own story, I never doubted that he would have his HEA because I trusted the authors to get him there by making him earn it. More importantly, I knew there would be underlying issues to his previous attitude and behavior, not that it made it okay but it shows the authors respect the fact that people don't see everything behind the veil, that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, and at the same time those who act out due to the things they don't let us see are still held accountable for their jerkiness(to put it simply).
Now to Blitz and everything about it, Trick, Tom, hockey, football, and romance. As always, we see the journey from both characters' viewpoint, making it the couple's story but if I was to put a number to it, I'd say Trick's side edges on top by a 60/40 margin. Don't get me wrong, Tom has his drama as well dealing with coming out now or waiting until he retires which was the original plan as well as his own "teammate nemesis". As I stated above, Blitz is Trick's redemption journey, though once you learn the reasons behind his behavior, "redemption" might be a little strong but he still has a lot to make amends for. Truth is, some might think the authors didn't spend enough time on the romance factor in Blitz and perhaps they didn't in comparison to their other stories but sometimes that is okay. To have a great romance, you have to have likeable characters that deserve their HEA and sometimes that means the character(s) has to grow, has to heal, has to get to that deserving moment. That is what Blitz is about, Trick's development to deserving, to get him to the point that readers want him to have his HEA.
I'm afraid if I continue I will give too much away and that's a no-no for me, so I'll stop here. Truth be told, my thoughts are a bit jumbled with this story but I hope they aren't coming out that way in this review. I loved the fact that Scott & Locey had competing sports for their two lovers, and by "competing" I mean hockey and football have a partial overlap season-wise not actually playing against each other, despite my loving the dual sport couple, it saddens me a bit too. As the new football pre-season gets underway, my dad and I's hearts are breaking a bit knowing Mom won't be here to cheer on her Green Bay Packers, which is why my thoughts are wonky and again, I hope they aren't translating that way here, if so I apologize. To be as clear and simply put as I can: Blitz will warm your heart, make you smile, but it will also hurt your heart and make you scream a time or two first. Tom may be a football star but he has earned his spot alongside Trick in the Scott/Locey Hockey Universe and together they will entertain you with all the feels you can possibly imagine. There is nothing that is not good about this story and I look forward to their next entry, and the next, and the next, and . . . well lets just finish by saying I'll be here for every journey they bring us😉😍.
A Christmas for Holly by RJ Scott
Summary:
Wishing Tree, Vermont #2
Trapped in a snowstorm, Paul and Lucas find that unresolved feelings from a single, impulsive kiss could spark something deeper, leading them toward the most magical Christmas miracles.
The festive season offers nothing but despair for Paul ‘Holly’ Hollister, the once-proud captain of the Albany Harriers. His once-glittering hockey career has crumbled, leaving him crippled with anxiety and without a sense of direction. After a stint in rehab, Holly is desperate for peace—something his best friend Kai seems to have found in the snowy town of Wishing Tree. Despite his hatred for the cold, Holly is drawn there by friendship—and by the unsettling dreams of Lucas Haynes, the man he drunkenly kissed at Kai and Bailey’s wedding and hasn’t been able to forget since. The only problem? Lucas is determined to keep him at arm’s length.
Lucas Haynes has never felt a romantic pull toward anyone—until that unexpected kiss with Holly at his brother’s wedding flipped his world upside down. Finding out Holly was already in a relationship afterward had only fueled his frustration and his decision to avoid the hockey star. But now that Holly is in Wishing Tree, single and adrift, Lucas can’t deny the attraction that still simmers between them. When a snowstorm traps them together, Lucas’ sarcasm and distrust slowly crumble under Holly’s vulnerability. As secrets come to light, old wounds are reopened, and the undeniable spark between them grows into something more, Lucas starts to wonder if this closeness could be the love he never thought he’d find—and if Holly might get the second chance at happiness he so desperately needs.
A Christmas for Holly is an opposites-attract, hurt/comfort, Christmas romance featuring a retired hockey captain with crippling anxiety, a guarded gift store owner grappling with unexpected attraction, unresolved tension from a drunken wedding kiss, a charming small town blanketed in snow, meddling but loving family, and a snowstorm that brings honesty and vulnerability to light—leading to a heartwarming holiday happily ever after.
Original Review Book of the Month December 2024:
Due to some family health issues this won't be as long a review as I typically do. Also, due to those health issues it took me a bit longer to read A Christmas for Holly than usual as well but don't for a minute think if was because RJ Scott's 2024 Xmas story wasn't as good as any of her others, because it was brilliant. Not only was the story full of love, friendship, chemistry, family, drama, healing, and all around heart it also included some Thanksgiving talk which is hard to find in the LGBT genre.
There are early moments where you want to give Holly a smack but at the same time it is pretty obvious he is dealing with some internal issues so despite the hurt he causes you just want to wrap him a huge Mama Bear Hug. As a caregiver, I appreciate the patience Lucas has, probably more than I would have in that situation. There is just so much packed into this holiday fare, you can't help but feel completely enveloped by the emotions of the season and connected to all the characters. Truly an all around holiday entertaining gem.
And if you've read The Wishing Tree(book 1), you get a glimpse of Kai and Bailey as well and their story was such a lovely read that getting to see them again was just the bow on the package. If you have yet to read Wishing Tree, Vermont book 1, you won't be lost as they are separate couples with their own stories but I think knowing their journey helps paint a more complete picture.
The Alpha's Candy-Kissed Omega by Lorelei M Hart
Summary:Alpha Kissed #2
What better place to meet your fated mate than an extraordinary candy store?
And what better season than Halloween? Liam is arranging the amazing treats in the window of his gourmet candy shop, Sugar, when a jogger taps on the window. Despite his policy not to let strangers in when he’s alone in the closed store, this stranger is too irresistible to send away.
Edison has had his eye on the hot alpha store owner for months but has finally gathered his courage to approach him. To his relief and delight, the man of his dreams asks him out on a date. Sweet!
But when a little boy who attends the afterschool activities at Edison’s community center falls into desperate need, he is called upon to take him into his home and so a family begins. A foster child who has been so badly harmed brings challenges, and only a very strong, loving alpha would want to take on both an omega and the injured child. An unexpected pregnancy ups the ante.
They have found one another, but are things moving too fast? Can they take care of the children and each other as well as the businesses they are responsible for? Can they make a home?
The Alpha’s Candy-Kissed Omega is a MM non-shifter mpreg with a hot successful alpha, a sexy, caring omega, a little boy who needs them both and an adorable baby. Plus a surprise or two along the way.
Original Review October 2025:
This entry quickly pulls you in and you can't help but root for the characters from the very minute they meet. Some might think with the chocolate store being the catalyst that brought Liam and Edison together this would be sugary sweet to the point of leaving the reader in diabetic coma but it doesn't. Don't get me wrong, there's plenty of sweetness but it's more than that, there's plenty of heart too. Little Anderson may be the basis for the heartwarming moments, Liam and Edison leave the reader saying, "Ahhhh" more than once.I left myself not enough time to express myself in this review as I'd like(hopefully I can find that time to return later) but just know that this Alpha Kissed entry will leave you smiling, laughing, oohing and aahing all the way through.
RATING:
Shawn wasn't looking for a job as a manny, but a friend needed a favor. Now Shawn finds himself taking care of little Charlie and developing feelings for Charlie's dad, Dale. Charlie had it tough until Dale adopted him and needs help coming out of his shell. Dale does too. Though he seems strict and aloof, Dale has a warm heart. Shawn can't resist him, but he thinks Dale is out of his league. Shawn just might win him over, but can Dale convince him that what they have is real?
As it has been often this year, my review is going to be shorter than I typically write, time just doesn't seem to be on my side. Thanksgiving Manny is not the first time I have read this author, though it has been a couple of years since I last did. This is a lovely holiday tale that is fun but also heartwarming, it will definitely fill you with all the kinds of joy that holiday stories should be. There tends to be a very limited number of books set during Thanksgiving so when I find one I tend to bookmark it but this one I did not take the time to bookmark it and jumped head first. So glad I did, a complete joy from beginning to end.
Whether you read Thanksgiving Manny this holiday season or you wait till the heat of July so you can experience the goodness throughout the year, either way this is definitely one you should keep in mind because you just can't help but smile.
The Killer Kept Me by Davidson King
CHAPTER ONE
“Power doesn’t corrupt people; people corrupt power.”
~ William Gaddis
Saros
It was a beautiful November morning. The sun was out, the air was crisp, my coffee was perfect, and most of all, I was enjoying it in silence. That was, until a door slamming from somewhere in my estate echoed off the walls, followed by stomping feet…That must be Cosmo.
I sighed and readied myself.
Three, two, one.
“Were you even going to tell me you were meeting Frazee tonight at The Sky?”
“Good morning, Cosmo. How are you this morning?”
He rolled his eyes and shot me a strained smile. “Morning, Boss. I’m actually irritated this fine fucking morning, if you must know.”
In this situation, if someone were to walk in on us, they’d likely think it was Cosmo who was the head of this family, feared by many, more powerful than anyone that sat behind the desk in a house made of white. But they’d be wrong. Cosmo was my second in command and my brother-in-law. The fact that he was married to my sister was why he wasn’t choking on his own tongue right about now…and he knew it.
“I’m sorry you’re upset—do sit and have some coffee.” I narrowed my gaze and sneered. “I insist.”
Cosmo sat across from me and poured himself coffee from the carafe. I let him have a moment to collect himself before I spoke once more.
“When you married my sister, you became my brother. It gives you more leeway than anyone else, but if you storm into my house like that again, making a scene, you’ll be walking with a limp for the rest of your life. Do I make myself clear?”
Cosmo swallowed loudly and placed the mug on the table. “My apologies; you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. What if I had someone here? I’d have had to explain to Dafni why you had two black eyes and then when she found out the reason, she’d break your nose.”
Dafni wasn’t violent, but she was tough. She understood this life and how everything we said and did mattered. I loved Cosmo, trusted him like no other, and I knew Dafni did too. So if he forced my hand, she’d know her husband had fucked up.
“It won’t happen again.”
“I know.”
We sat in silence for a beat, and after a breath, Cosmo started over. “Are you going to The Sky tonight to meet Frazee?”
“I am.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I huffed. “Because you have to be at your daughter’s recital tonight. Marco is going with me.”
“This is Frazee, Saros. You can’t just take Marco. He’s a snake.”
I rose from my seat and buttoned my jacket. “We’re all snakes, Cosmo. Frazee isn’t going to try anything seven hundred feet from the ground, in a public place. Marco will be just fine.”
“I’m going.”
I pointed my finger at him. “You’re in more danger if you miss Maeve’s recital.”
“Saros, she’s three. It’s not even going to be dancing—more like little piglets jumping in a circle, smashing into each other. She won’t remember if I’m there or not.”
“Idiot.” I grinned. “Dafni will know, and she’ll serve your balls to you if you’re not there. I’ll be fine. Video the dance for me…but only my niece. I don’t give a shit about all the other little fucklings.”
“Fine, but I’m talking to Marco before you go.”
I waved him away. “Whatever you want.”
He mumbled something under his breath, but I was already out of the room and on my way to the study for a phone call.
The Sky was one of the most luxurious, expensive, and elite restaurants in all of Eastbury. The owner was a friend…well, maybe friend was pushing it. He was a man who’d had a dream and zero money. He’d pitched the idea of The Sky to me, and I’d loved it, loaned him the money, and because of that I was able to eat there whenever I wanted at no cost. Something Fernando wasn’t completely on board with. As the years went by, he’d become quite rich and the bright-eyed man full of hope and wonder had become a pretentious snob. Not to me, never to me, but it was sad to see someone go from beautiful to ugly.
“Mr. Tancredi.” I peered up and saw a grinning Frazee. Technically Barrett Frazee, but for as long as anyone had known the man, he’d simply gone by his last name.
“Frazee, good to see you.” I stood, we embraced, and we settled in.
Marco was near the bar, and I could see one of Frazee’s men close by.
“Shall we get to the business portion of this meeting, or order first?”
I gestured toward the server. “Let’s get food squared away.”
I ordered beef Wellington, lightly seasoned vegetables, and mashed potatoes. I regarded Frazee as he placed his order.
He was forty; his blond hair reached his shoulders and was streaked with gray. He kept himself fit, but the lines on his face weren’t because he smiled a lot. His blue eyes were dim, and the hard life he’d led made many believe he was older than he appeared. He dressed in expensive suits but I knew what he had in the bank didn’t even come close to my fortune.
Frazee and I couldn’t look more different. I was thirty-two, I didn’t have many lines on my face, and the ones I did were definitely from smiling. My hair was black, cut, and styled at all times. My blues eyes were bright because I saw a future that would always bend to my will, and I didn’t let anything enfeeble me.
The server nodded and left us to our beverages. “Let’s cut to the chase, Frazee. You want more territory, money, and power.”
Frazee snorted into his whiskey. “Don’t we all?”
“No. I have all those things already. I don’t call meetings asking for more.”
The other man sat back, the briefest glare crossing his face before he righted it. “You just go and take it.”
I lifted a shoulder. “If I have to. Otherwise, I like to negotiate.”
“Which demands a meeting.”
I snickered ominously and swallowed the rest of my bourbon. “Negotiations happen when the other party wants something from me, and I only agree if they have something I want.”
“And what do I have that you want, Saros?”
Using my first name would be seen as disrespectful if Frazee’s opinion mattered, but it didn’t. He couldn’t bother me because I wouldn’t let him.
“I want accessibility to PTA.”
Frazee’s brows furrowed. “Pell Tennor Airport? But you have other airports.”
I did. But PTA was important. “PTA is a smaller airport, less eyes on it, and as of three months ago started letting flights in from Brazil. A destination I do a lot of business with.”
“I thought you used the ports as well.”
I nodded. “I do.”
Frazee huffed. “PTA is the only area you don’t own, and you want it.”
“I won’t take it from you, Frazee, I just want access to it whenever I require it.”
“I suspected there was something you wanted, otherwise you’d have never agreed to this meeting.”
I beamed at the man. “Now you’re getting it.”
The server arrived and placed our food in front of us and asked if we needed refills, which we accepted. Once she left to get our drinks, Frazee continued.
“There are three abandoned warehouses in Eastbury. You aren’t using them—no one is. I want them.”
“Warehouses are clichéd, Frazee. Not to mention, suspicious as fuck. It’s why no one uses them. They’re watched.”
“If you don’t want them, it shouldn’t be an issue.”
I thought about it as the server brought our beverages. I didn’t answer right away, savoring my delicious meal. Frazee didn’t push me to answer, either.
“What are you using them for?”
He wiped his mouth and met my gaze. “We don’t ask about each other’s businesses.”
I shrugged. “It’s in my territory, and there are certain things I don’t allow.”
“I know what you allow and don’t in your territory; it’s nothing like that. But sharing my business dealings with you isn’t happening.”
I could just tell him no, but I wanted access to PTA and didn’t feel much like going to war over the use of it.
“I’ll give the buildings to you, but if I find out you’re breaking my territory rules, this won’t end well for you, Frazee.”
“And you’ll have access to PTA whenever you need.”
“Deal.”
We finished our meals and spent the rest of the time being cordial, asking about our families…you know, normal things.
One of the reasons I liked doing business at The Sky was that there were no wiretaps. The restaurant was swept every hour. If Fernando got word they’d tapped the place with a warrant, he’d tell me. It was also too high for anyone to listen in unless they hovered with a helicopter, and that would be very noticeable. I had a deal with Fernando: I wouldn’t take a cut after the loan was paid off and he’d keep The Sky however he wanted, and I’d never interfere with the stipulation that my words were safe here.
“Thanks for dinner.” Frazee shook my hand as we stood from the table.
“My pleasure. I’ll get those papers over to you by the end of the week.”
“Good doing business with you, Mr. Tancredi.”
Now I was Mr. Tancredi again. “Same.”
I waited until Frazee had taken the elevator down before approaching Marco. “Tell Benny to bring the car around.”
Marco texted, and we took the elevator to the bottom. Once we got out, I went the opposite direction from the main entrance. I didn’t like being seen unless there was a reason. So, I used the back exit.
Marco and I stepped outside, and the door had just closed when a shot rang out. A second later, Marco fell to the pavement.
Blitz by RJ Scott & VL Locey
ONE
Cole Patrick Harrington III AKA “Trick"
I’d been called a lot of things in my career—cocky, cold, un-coachable—but this was a new one: Kid.
“Jesus, kid!”
“Smile more, kid.”
“You look like someone pissed in your Wheaties, kid.”
The man with the camera was talking to me as if I were some fresh-faced rookie and not a twenty-five-year-old professional who’d survived two concussions, a torn MCL, and had cultivated a reputation so toxic even my agent flinched when my name came up. Any minute now, I was going to launch this chirpy, caffeine-fueled photographer from the top floor of the Railers practice facility and act as if it was a training accident.
I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to lose my shit, mostly because I’d been warned—again—that this PR stunt was a chance for me to play nice. Apparently, how I got myself traded from Atlanta had been way too effective. I may have overplayed my hand at my old team when I tried my hardest to make myself the bad guy to escape the specters that loomed large in Georgia. The Railers had scooped me up like a clearance-sale gamble, hoping maybe a change of scenery would fix whatever was wrong with me—as if I was just some glitchy piece of tech needing a reboot. But instead of skating drills or hitting the weights to prove I still had game, I was stuck posing with a golden-boy football player in a sponsored shoot for BoltFuel—oiled up, half naked with shorts the only thing hiding skin, and gritting my teeth while trying not to explode at everyone in sight.
Worth it to get out of my dad’s way. Right?
“We are smiling,” Tom said beside me, his voice bright enough to make my teeth ache as he elbowed me with what I assumed was solidarity.
His default setting was probably grin-and-glow, the kind of guy who thought the world could be fixed with a good attitude and an extra scoop of protein powder. He wasn’t only smiling—he was radiating PR-friendly charm as if it was his job. And maybe it was. Meanwhile, I was trying not to set the BoltFuel banner on fire with my eyes.
“This way, Trip! Smolder for me, Trip! Love that protein drink, Trip!” the camera guy shouted.
“It’s Trick,” I corrected. Everyone wanted to call me Trip for the III, but no, I was Cole Patrick Harrington, and people had better remember that it was Trick from Patrick.
My dad was Cole Harrington—Pastor Cole—slick with charm, polished by the spotlight of his Temple of the Radiant Truth ministry, and backed by generations of old Southern money.
“Trick, then. Smile!”
According to Layton Foxx, the Railers PR guru, sunshine-football-guy and I were good for BoltFuel, the team, and hell, even the league. I was surprised he didn’t tell me it would lead to world peace, but apparently, the optics were perfect: hockey’s most controversial problem child standing next to football’s favorite son. I gritted my teeth and forced my trademark golden-boy grin. This was good for image and cross-market promotion, and excellent for a company trying to prove their product wasn’t just for gym bros and weekend warriors.
BoltFuel’s directive had been front and center in the email thread leading up to this shoot—DON’T LET HARRINGTON FUCK IT UP FOR US. All caps. Bolded. Message received loud and clear. Be good, be agreeable, and sell the shake. Keep your attitude on a leash and your mouth shut. That was all they needed from me: a warm body and a winning smile.
The camera flashed, and I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms. I focused on my breathing, slow and controlled. One… two… three. My jaw ached from clenching, and my shoulders were so tight my head hurt. Ten seconds of pretending. Ten seconds of not messing up in front of BoltFuel, the team, and the one guy in the room who seemed untouched by the circus. Ten seconds of being someone I wasn’t—I could do that. Hell, I did it every day.
Tom I’m-fucking-perfect Fulkowski, carved out of golden light, good intentions, and twenty million a year, stood beside me as though he didn’t have a care in the world, flashing his perfectly white teeth and charming everyone from the interns to the assistant GM. He even smelled good, like sunshine and cinnamon. I smelled like sweat and frustration.
We both smelled of oil.
Taller than me by a couple of inches, he was broad-shouldered and stupidly photogenic. He wore his Philadelphia Pumas shorts as if he belonged in a magazine ad instead of a football stadium.
“Trick? A word,” Layton said from the sidelines, all pleasant PR charm until I got closer, and he pulled me aside like a cop about to read me my rights.
“What! I’m doing it! I’m smiling, aren’t I? I didn’t swear, flip anyone off, or smash a camera. That’s practically sainthood.”
God, it was hard to turn off the asshole side of me.
“I swear, Trick, if you don’t pull it together and act like you’re even vaguely enjoying yourself, I will personally staple that BoltFuel logo to your forehead. This campaign is already hanging by a thread, and if you tank it, you’re not just screwing yourself—you’re screwing me, the team, and everyone who still thinks there’s a PR miracle waiting to happen here.”
Message received. Loud and clear. Again.
“Act like you’re happy we plucked you off the waiver wire. Smile, nod, and for the love of god, Trick, look like you’re thrilled to be standing next to America’s sweetheart and holding a protein shake like it’s your golden ticket back into hockey heaven.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, letting the PR-approved smile drop like dead weight. I didn’t want to be told what to do. I’d escaped Atlanta to be my own man, and here was this guy shouting at me.
“Even if I’m not happy?” My voice was flat; the kind of tone that said I was two seconds from lighting the whole BoltFuel banner on fire to see who’d scramble first.
Layton’s eyes darkened, and I could see the vein in his temple starting to throb. “I swear…” he began. “Do your job and pretend you want to be part of the Railers.” Then, he gently encouraged me, aka shoved me, back out onto the rooftop where Perfect-Tom-the-football player was chatting to the photographer and smiling so damn hard I was surprised his face didn’t break.
“Here he is,” Tom said, throwing me the same smile.
Fuck. My. Life. Happy to be with the Railers? I wish. After the reputation I had—the one I’d created to escape—no one really wanted me here. Hell, I didn’t want to be in Pennsylvania—I’d wanted Vancouver or LA—anything to get as far away from Atlanta as possible.
I need to try and smile. I need to look unaffected. But I need to smile.
My head!
Tom leaned in. “You good, dude?”
Dude? Who the fuck said that anymore? And no, I wasn’t good. I hadn’t been good in years.
“Peachy,” I muttered, forcing a tight smile for the next shot. The camera clicked again, and I caught sight of my expression on the monitor. Yeah. Real sunshine and rainbows.
“Okay to post to my socials?” Sunshine asked.
The photographer nodded, and before I knew it I was being hugged super close, skin on skin, and Tom’s phone caught my automatic media smile before I extricated myself and made a show of wiping myself down.
“So, onto the interview,” the camera guy said, standing aside for the slip of a girl who couldn’t have been a day over eighteen. The questions were generic. Layton wanted us to banter about hockey vs. football, even after I pointed out that I was earning seven million a year, which was less than half of what Sunshine-Tom pulled in. Was that the banter he wanted me to focus on?
Tom was chatting about the many charities he was involved with, from dogs to kids to mental health. He was all over everything: fun runs, ultra marathons, kicking balls through holes.
“… charities?” the interviewer asked, looking at me expectantly.
“I prefer to keep my charitable endeavors private,” I threw out, rude as fuck, and pointedly raising an eyebrow. Why the hell did I do that? Oh yeah, because I didn’t do charity work. I gave half my freaking salary to my dad.
Silence. I could feel Layton’s gaze boring into the back of my neck. “Apart from the dogs,” I added after a pause. “I do a lot with dogs.” I wondered if anyone could tell I was lying. Again, no one would call me on it, and I resolved to donate to the closest dog rescue place.
“You do?” Tom asked, “That’s so cool. I love dogs! I have this cute pup… look!” He’d picked up his cell and was now waving it under my nose.
I was motion sick but managed to at least murmur something that got him to stop waving it at me.
When the interview was over, I was free to leave, but Tom wouldn’t let me. Oh no, he wanted to talk to me.
“Do you want to get a coffee?” he asked with a grin, as if we were old friends and not two strangers thrown together for a PR campaign no one had asked for.
Did I want to spend time with another man—a gorgeous, sexy, muscled, oiled man—where my urges might spill over and I did something stupid.
Nope.
Don’t look at his body. Mask down.
Scrappy miserable defensive shield up.
“Why? So, you can add rehabbing hockey player to your list of charity cases?”
He didn’t flinch, but he did frown. “Just an idea,” he said. “No biggie.”
Anyone would notice Tom the second he walked into a room. He was tall and had a lean, but powerful, football player’s build—one of the top defensive ends in the league. He was clean-cut American perfection, with hair cropped short and neat, blue eyes that probably melted cameras, and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass.
He turned slightly to talk to the photographer, and the view from the back didn’t disappoint. Broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, and his ass—well, it was ridiculous in those Pumas shorts. That was some fine award-winning bubble butt he had going on there. His whole body looked as if it had been designed in a lab to torment me.
And those lips—Christ. Full, plush, shaped like sin and confidence. The kind of lips that made you think of things a man shouldn’t, especially in front of half a dozen cameras. I could imagine tracing them with my fingers, feeling them against my neck, and yeah… his lips would be gorgeous wrapped around my—
My cell buzzing interrupted my thoughts—not my normal cell phone, but the tiny handset I kept tucked in a zipped pocket of my bag. It only had one number programmed into it. My father’s.
I didn’t want that man anywhere near the real life I was trying to build. He didn’t deserve even the ghost of a presence in it. Everything I’d clawed my way toward—every minute on the ice, every hard-earned scrap of control over my own goddamn story—I’d done in spite of him. Not because of him.
But I couldn’t make myself leave the phone behind. Not ever. Because I knew him. Knew the way he operated. He’d wait until the perfect moment—until I was almost happy, until I was steady—and then, he’d throw a curveball that’d knock me sideways. He’d done it before. Enough times that the idea of missing one of those calls, of not being ready, left a knot of barbed wire in my gut.
The phone was my warning system. My fire alarm. I didn’t pick it up to talk. I picked it up to survive.
The message was simple. A lone photo, forwarded from Tom’s Instagram. His arm slung casually around me, my head tipped slightly toward his. It wasn’t anything.
Below it, my father had typed: The cameras have caught you touching sin!
My stomach dropped.
Classic him. No context. No conversation. Just a warning dressed up as scripture, like he thought he was standing at a pulpit instead of slinging shame over text. Like he had any right to say a damn thing about my life after our contract.
I stared at the message, my grip tightening on the tiny phone until the plastic creaked. This was the curveball. I’d felt it coming. He always found a way to remind me that he was watching.
“Trick! Security just called,” someone said, cutting through my spiral. Now what? “There’s someone downstairs for you.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know. Greg said it’s personal.”
I blinked, heart thudding as if I’d been caught doing something illegal. I turned back to the photographer. I was thankful for the interruption, even if my chest was tight—I didn’t do anything personally. “Are we done here?”
He nodded, distracted by adjusting some lighting rig.
I didn’t say goodbye. I shoved my hands deeper into my hoodie pockets and walked off the set without glancing back, using the stairs to get down, and stopped just before exiting the lobby. My breath hitched and my heart punched against my ribs as if it were trying to escape. Panic curled in my gut, sharp and sudden, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. My palms were slick, my vision narrowing as thoughts raced—who was out there wanting me? Did they want a golden boy hockey player or an asshole wanting to be punched? What character would I have to play? Not knowing was kinda shit, and I didn’t do surprises. Tension flooded my veins, thick and hot, locking up every joint until I couldn’t move or think without spiraling into worst-case scenarios.
“Hey, you okay?” a voice said behind me, and I whirled to face a half-smiling, half-concerned Tom.
I focused on his stupidly pretty face and sneered. “Oh, fuck the hell off,” I snapped, and pushed out of the door, my anger at being spotted enough to snap my daydream. I didn’t think he followed me, and I strode to the main desk, seeing an empty lobby apart from some kid sitting on the sofa.
“What?” I asked Greg, who pointed at the young girl without saying a word. “We don’t let fans in.”.” I moved to leave, but the girl had moved—damned fast—and blocked my way.
She couldn’t have been more than seventeen, eighteen maybe—but then, what the hell did I know—and she smiled up at me. She was in jeans and a simple T-shirt, the kind you could pick up in a three-pack at Target, and her hair was scraped back into a no-nonsense ponytail. There was no makeup I could see, but she didn’t seem plain—just real. Her dark eyes were wide, curious, and maybe a little nervous, like she wasn’t sure if she was about to get yelled at or hugged. There was something familiar in how she stood too—shoulders back, chin lifted as if she’d practiced this moment in the mirror a dozen times and wasn’t about to flinch now.
“Hi, Cole Harrington the Third.” She extended her hand to shake.
I ignored it.
“You shouldn’t be in here; there are scheduled times for meet and greets,” I said. “Give Greg your name, and he’ll add you to the list.” I stepped back so Greg could see her and me in case I got accused of something awful; I mean, Jesus, she was a young woman, and I was the bad boy of hockey, and I’d been accused of unfounded shit before.
“My name is Rebecca Jensen.”
“Okay. Tell Greg.”
“I’m here to see you.”
“As I said, we have meet and greets.”
“I’m your sister.”
“Fuck off.” My mouth moved before my brain could catch up. Sister? No. That word didn’t belong to me. That word wasn’t part of my life. My entire world had always been me—solo, closed off, self-contained. No siblings, shared birthdays, hand-me-downs, or late-night whisper fights across a hallway. Just me and the silence I’d made peace with. And now? This stranger wanted to rewrite my entire history with a few words. That was a new one. I’d had four pregnancy accusations—two of them from women I’d never even met, one from a former one-night stand who’d forgotten she was married, and one who thought wishful thinking made it real. I’d punched a photographer in Vegas after he’d tried to shove a lens up my nose during a hangover. I’d been accused twice of getting too handsy in public—both dismissed, but the stain lingered. I’d been called every name in the book by commentators and sports pundits alike. But this? A long-lost sibling showing up out of the blue in the Railers lobby? That was a first.
“No, you’re not,” I scoffed. If there’s one certainty I have, it’s that I don’t have siblings. “Greg, can you get over here and deal with this.”
“Cole Harrington, the second, was your father, same as mine,” she said, her voice steady, like she’d rehearsed this a hundred times. “My mom, Georgie Jensen, was your dad’s PA for a couple of weeks. She never told me about him—not until last year when she was diagnosed with cancer.” She paused then, grief in her expression. “She told me to stay away, that it was safer that way, until I turned eighteen at least. And I’m eighteen now, I mean… look, when she passed away there was a lawyer explaining everything.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope, which was thick and official judging by its weight. “There’s a genetic match, an affidavit, photos… the whole kit and caboodle.” Then, she smiled—wide and awkward—and added, “Hey, big brother.”
“Is this a scam? Because if it is, save us both the time and get the hell out now. I’ve seen enough people try to angle in with a sob story and some paperwork. You want money—there’s a line forming behind my last three fake cousins and a guy who swore he babysat me once in kindergarten and said I told him my dad would give him money. So, unless you’ve got more than a manila envelope and a smile, I suggest you turn around.”
“She said you’d be like this,” she muttered, then sighed. “Take this, asshole.” She thrust the envelope at me. “Call me.”
Then she turned smartly on her heel and walked out of the arena, leaving me in the lobby like an idiot. An idiot holding a sealed envelope and a hundred questions I didn’t want to ask. My fingers itched to tear it open, but my feet stayed rooted to the floor. What the hell was I supposed to do with this? What if she was right?
She’s not right. Jesus Trick, pull yourself together.
I shoved the envelope into my hoodie pocket as if it were radioactive. Greg was staring, and I snarled. He scampered off to do whatever he was supposed to be doing, like not letting a random stranger in here.
This day was officially fucked.
A Christmas for Holly by RJ Scott
Chapter 1
Lucas
Last Christmas
With fresh snow falling and everyone’s breath turning to mist in the cold, I watched my little brother Bailey marry my best friend Kai. I never imagined seeing them exchange vows would hit me this hard, because I wasn’t swept up in romance or fairy-tale moments. But there was something about how Kai’s eyes lit up when Bailey slid the ring onto his finger, about how they looked at each other as if nothing else mattered. It wasn’t jealousy that I felt—just a pang of… something.
Of what, I couldn’t say.
As one of four boys—Callum, Duncan, me, then Bailey, the youngest—Bailey had plenty of choices for best man, and Callum had gotten the honor by default. He was doing an admirable job, standing tall and proud, as if he’d waited his whole life to usher his kid brother into marriage. I already had my role as shared best man—Kai’s. It was a title I co-owned with Paul “Holly” Hollister, current captain of the Albany Harriers, the team Kai had just retired from.
Holly was bright, loud, and always on, and today was no different. He flirted with everyone and made so many people smile.
Including me.
And, for some reason, whenever he smiled at me, it made my heart do strange things, as it had done since I first met him when we were both eighteen. I’d gone to the draft in Winnipeg with Kai, and the Harriers took him and Paul, or Holly as he was nicknamed for obvious reasons. I was thirty-two now… fourteen years in the making, but my affection, for want of a better word, for Holly got stronger with every interaction. I dated here and there when the mood struck me, but it always felt more like an obligation than something I wanted. I didn’t spark easily. With all three of my brothers now married, I sometimes wondered if I ever really would.
But then there was Holly.
It had started at the draft. He’d gone first round, the media darling of the event, and as a diehard hockey fan, I couldn’t help but be in awe of him—the boy the media had dubbed the savior of whichever team landed him.
From that moment, Holly became part of my world. At first, it was through Kai, given I was Kai’s best friend from small-town Vermont, and Holly was Kai’s best friend in the city. We shared the best friend title, and Holly became woven into my story through that.
Over time, though, things shifted. Holly wasn’t just the captain of the Harriers, the two-time Stanley Cup champions, the guy who’d led his team to back-to-back wins in his early twenties. He wasn’t only Kai’s best friend or the player who pulled in millions while dazzling the media with his bright grin and quick charm. He was… Holly. A guy who winked at me across the ice the second time he lifted the Cup, handed it off to Kai, and celebrated with a laugh that echoed in my chest long after the moment had passed.
Maybe the wink had been for me. Perhaps it had been for the whole family, sitting behind the bench and cheering for the team. But something had sparked that day, and I hadn’t been able to let it go since.
It never became anything tangible, not really. A few moments of gentle flirting here and there, nothing more than teasing smiles and stray glances that confused me about what they meant—if they meant anything. But it was enough to plant the seed, to make me start noticing things about him I’d never noticed about anyone else. The way he carried himself was confident but never cocky. The way his laugh could light up a room. He seemed to draw people into his orbit effortlessly as though he was the center of some unseen source of gravity.
And now, here at the wedding when I caught sight of him across the crowd, laughing at something Duncan had said, my heart leaped. It didn’t make sense. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way about someone like Holly—a star so bright he seemed untouchable. But somehow, without me realizing it, I’d been drawn in, caught in his orbit. And now, I wasn’t sure how to untangle myself, or if I even wanted to.
But the man who’d come to the wedding wasn’t the same Holly I’d slowly fallen for. He’d still winked, flirted, laughed, teased Kai, and hugged Bailey, but there was something off in him.
Broken. Remote.
Was I the only one who could see it?
“Great wedding!” he’d shouted in my ear, already halfway to sloppy drunk, leaning on me, then moving on before I could answer, loud and showboating and grabbing everyone around him for a laugh. He was as smooth as ever in his Armani suit, polished to perfection, all show, and not much more, so where was the real Paul Hollister who made my heart skip and my cock go hard?
“What’s going on with Holly?”
I’d been asked the same question by way too many people, as if I was the knowledge keeper of all things Holly. Callum was confused when Holly swept Brooke from his arms and dipped her so low they ended up on the floor. Then Duncan told me Holly had scared some of the kids by making lion noises from the bushes. Finally, Mom asked me to help when Holly tried to limbo under the cake table, nearly causing the whole thing to fall.
I was the best man to Kai, not a watchdog for a drunken idiot, but still, I followed him at a distance.
“Always next to me, sexy!” he shouted at me again, then yanked me onto the dance floor as though he were possessed. I managed to wrangle him so we ended up at the edge of the room, far enough away from the bar that he couldn’t get another drink.
“What is wrong with you!” I whispered for his ears only. “Calm the fuck down!”
He laughed at me, then I couldn’t hold onto the slippery sucker, and he was away faster than the fastest fast thing.
By the time they’d cut the cake, which was still in one piece, Holly was already down several more glasses of champagne, laughing louder than anyone, avoiding me at all costs. I saw the stares he was getting. Some disapproval—how could he disrupt a cozy winter wedding? Some fondness—aww, he doesn’t do quiet or contained.
Holly was everywhere at once, larger than life. Except tonight, Mr. Entertainer’s laughter was too loud, his smiles forced, and it got so bad that Kai nodded at him and then me.
“Can you keep an eye on him?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he glanced over at Holly, who was now halfway through what had to be his fifth drink. “I’d do it myself, but—”
“No problem,” I replied. I got it. Today was Kai’s day, and Bailey deserved every second of his attention.
“Any idea why he’s like this?” I asked, watching Holly stumble toward the bar again.
Kai shrugged. “Team’s not doing so well.”
“Right. The fate of the world,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
Holly captained his team as if it were a matter of life or death, and I understood why he’d be upset with a few losses—well, a lot of losses. It took many zero points to be three points from the bottom of the league.
But to act out as if his whole world was falling apart because of them…
I went to the bar where Holly was ordering another drink. “I think you’re good for now,” I told him, reaching out to steady him when he swayed.
Holly turned, eyebrows lifted. “Lucas! Sexy man!” He slung an arm around my shoulders, and I could smell the sharp tang of whiskey on his breath. “Here to join the party?”
“Here to make sure you don’t ruin the party,” I said, peeling his arm off me. “How much have you had?”
“Not enough,” he grinned, a hard edge to his voice.
“Well, stop,” I said, nodding toward Kai and Bailey. “Remember them?”
Holly’s gaze softened momentarily, and he seemed to remember where he was. “Yeah. I’m happy for them. Just wish…” He shook his head, turning away.
“Wish what?” I asked before I couldn’t stop myself from stepping around him so I could meet his dark brown eyes.
My breath hitched at the emotion I saw there, and I wanted to hug him so badly. I was the guy who was always content on his own. The guy who watched friends fall in and out of love while he focused on work, family, and a handful of friendships that didn’t come with strings or expectations.
But here I was, staring at Paul Hollister, wondering why, tonight, when he was acting like an asshole, I was still there with this tug in my chest.
“Wish what, Holly?” I asked again, hearing the softness in my voice.
He blinked at me, his gaze sharp for someone with too much liquor in him. “Nothing.” He gestured to the dance floor, where many people had started swaying to some Christmas tune. “Let’s dance,” he said, his tone half challenge, half plea.
I snorted. “Yeah, I don’t dance.”
“Then hold my drink,” he said, thrusting his near-empty glass at me before staggering toward the middle of the dance floor.
I stood there awkwardly, holding his drink as he stumbled and spun, coaxing laughter from people around him, grabbing the hands of strangers and putting on a show.
“You can sit down, you know,” I muttered when he made his way back for a refill, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, a grin plastered across his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Sit? At a wedding?” he scoffed, grabbing his drink and taking a long sip. “What are you, ninety?”
“You don’t have to keep up the act, you know,” I said, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them.
For a moment, his smile dropped, and his eyes met mine, searching. Then he laughed. “What act?”
“You tell me,” I replied, my voice low.
He opened his mouth as if he were about to answer, but then he just shook his head. “You wouldn’t get it.”
“Try me.”
His bravado kept slipping, showing these quick flashes of vulnerability before he covered it up with another laugh. Or perhaps it was that, for once, I wanted to share that vulnerability, and I don’t know… fix it?
He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. “Why do you care?” His voice was rough, almost accusing.
“Good question,” I muttered. Because I didn’t know. I didn’t know why his ridiculous act, half-sober smirk, or stupid laugh didn’t stop me from feeling the pull toward him.
“You don’t know me, Lucas,” he said, his voice a low rasp, his eyes bright with emotion. “And trust me, you don’t want to.”
I held his gaze, refusing to look away. “But here I am.” I shrugged, though my chest felt tight with something I didn’t recognize.
Holly’s expression softened. He opened his mouth, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might say something real. But then he smirked, taking another swig of his drink. “Your funeral, buddy.”
As he walked back onto the dance floor, his laughter ringing out, I watched him, a familiar ache gripping my chest. Not for the first time in my life, I wanted to understand this pull toward another person—this urge to hug him, hold him close, and make things better.
And it scared me.
The Alpha-Kissed Candy Omega by Lorelei M Hart
Chapter One
Liam Delmonico
October first...an hour before dawn...my wait was finally over. Sure, all the holidays were great and as the owner of Sugar, a boutique candy store, I was able to indulge in my love for them. I got orders for my Mother’s Day long-stemmed triple-chocolate roses from thousands of miles away. Stockings filled with miniature truffles for Christmas. Valentine’s Day...don’t get me started. But Halloween was my personal favorite.
My staff and I had already created trays of everything from teensy, intense dark chocolate bats to white chocolate—not my favorite, but some of our customers loved it—to hand-painted terrifying clowns. We would begin shipping them out later in the week, packed in our special overnight mini-chill chests. It didn’t take much heat to ruin chocolate’s perfection or, horrors, to have it bloom, that whitish film all chocolatiers dread.
While we specialized in chocolate items, we made many other kinds of sweet delights. Candies of all kinds. Everything prepared on site from the highest quality ingredients. We had even surrendered, at special request, for that most pedestrian of treats, a copper kettle setup, right inside the shop, where twice a day Hazel, our fudge-maker supreme, prepared her grandmother’s recipes for old-fashioned creamy squares of mouthwatering awesomeness while customers watched.
As I trundled the cart we’d set up the night before toward the front window, I flicked on the lights in the shop. Outside, the last leaves of autumn skittered along the sidewalk and the sky was just starting to brighten to the east. We’d cleared the display before going home, so I had a blank canvas for my creation.
Trace, Hazel’s husband, a remarkable man who’d not batted an eye when he learned the woman of his dreams was once a star football player named Harry, had as usual come up with the painted elements we required. Although his artwork garnered tens of thousands at auction, he painted backdrops and just about anything we wanted and wouldn’t take a dime in return. He only requested we didn’t let anyone know he was doing it, which made perfect sense.
This year, we had a full haunted house display, six-foot-tall facade and open windows in which our delights could reside. Thus the bats, vampires, witches, ghosts, and other denizens of the night. The moon hanging over it was made entirely of divinity, the spiderwebs, spun sugar, and even the graveyard soil consisted of crumbled midnight-chocolate cookies, one of our few baked items. I stepped back and clicked on the October playlist I’d compiled, a combination of heavy classical music and mostly retro tunes from bands like Oingo Boingo who I felt had the season down to an art. Unable to resist, I did have a few short segments of spooky sounds.
As “Dead Man’s Party” filled the shop, I sang along, arranging my treats and feeling the Halloween spirit fill me. Thus absorbed, and with the inside lights making it hard to see the predawn street outside, I didn’t notice the man staring in until he rapped on the window, making me jump at least two feet in the air.
He leaned closer to the window, pointing at something, and saying words I of course could not hear through thick plate glass. After one particularly weird experience with a nutritionist who wanted to lecture me on how I was responsible for all the ills of the world, calling me a dealer in death, my staff had made me promise not to let strangers in after hours, but this “stranger” was pretty cute.
Although he looked like a guy out for an early morning run, his tight shorts outlined an impressive package, and the grin on his handsome face was knee melting. So...another health nut wanting to tell me the error of my ways, or a guy who exercised to allow the pleasure of a few extra calories into his life? Maybe I could just talk through a crack in the door until I determined who I was dealing with. A lock of hair flopping over his forehead, a weakness of mine, decided it for me, and I moved out of the window toward the door, pointing to it as I did. Twisting the lock, I swung the door open and stuck my head out.
“We’re not open yet.” Cuz, you know, dawn and the closed sign didn’t give that away.
“Oh, I know, and I am sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to tell you how much I loved your display. I run by here all the time, and always think it’s great. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to let the creator of candy greatness know this.”
And the voice matched the face, matched the body. Smooth as molasses and rich as 75% cocoa dark chocolate. A little shiver raced up my spine. “How nice of you. Window dressing is one of my favorite parts of the job, I have to admit.”
“Those little bats are killer. All the detail. And the webs...wow.”
“Want to come in for a minute and get a better look?” Sorry, staff. This guy got me. I opened the door wide.
“Oh, no. You’re busy. I wasn’t trying to finagle my way into chocolate heaven.”
I wasn’t a swooner, but if I had been, I’d have been laid out on the floor. “Get in here. Now.” My inner alpha was taking over, planning dinner dates and dancing, sunset cocktails on the beach.
Luckily, he didn’t think I was a nut giving orders to strangers because he stepped inside and drew a deep breath. “Wow. It smells amazing in here.”
I grabbed a chair from one of the cafe tables and brought it over by my working area. “Doesn’t it? I think that every morning when I come in. Have a seat, and we can talk while I finish up.”
“If you’re sure it’s no trouble?”
“None at all. I have a pot of coffee in the back if you’d like a cup.”
He grinned again and I knew I’d do a lot to keep seeing that. “You’re a lifesaver. I never let myself have mine until after my run, but I think I can call it officially over.” He disappeared into the employees’ only section and returned with a steaming mug of my own mocha java blend. “Can I help you with anything?”
I shrugged. “If you don’t mind, you can hand me things. Once I get to the other side of the window, I have to keep climbing in and out, so that would be great. If you don’t mind.”
“No,” he said shaking his head slowly. “I don’t mind at all.”
Thanksgiving Manny by Trina Solet
Chapter 1
Shawn was supposed to already have a job, but the company where he accepted a position was bought out and almost everybody got fired. The job he was offered didn't exist any more.
Shawn was back to looking for work and making sure he didn't spend money he didn't have. That was why he met up with Heather but not for lunch. It was a little later in the afternoon when they went window shopping instead. The day was sunny but still pretty cold. The street was lined with trees that all had big orange leaves. Heather grabbed one off a branch.
"That's a good one," she said then she eyed Shawn. "I would have treated you to lunch, you know. Especially since I'm about to ask you for a favor. And this favor might solve your unemployment issue."
"Sounds intriguing," Shawn said though he was going to say confusing. "But I see a Help Wanted sign. You might have competition."
"No. Don't look at that," Heather said and waved the big, orange leaf in his face.
"OK, OK. I'm listening. Give me your pitch," he told her.
"I need you to save me. I told you how my brother adopted recently. When he did, I promised him I would help out, take on major babysitting duties, but now I want to go to Puerto Rico with Valencio. He's going to stay with his family for the holidays and he invited me. I'm dying to go."
"So you are offering me a babysitting job?" Shawn asked.
"More like a nanny job. Dale is really busy with his real estate work. He needs a lot of help, more even than I could give him," Heather said.
"I have some experience babysitting my cousin's kids. I actually lived with them for a while so I could help when the kids were really little," Shawn said. He was seriously considering this. His money was running out. He could still come up with rent but his roommate was getting nervous about how long his money would last. Shawn was too.
"This might be live-in too. Dale has the room," Heather said.
"That might work, I guess. So this is an offer to interview for the nanny job?" Shawn said.
"Actually, we can do a trial run. I'm picking up Charlie from school. That's my nephew. You and I can take him to the park together. Dale is meeting us so you can meet both father and son. Then I'll spring this idea on Dale," Heather said.
"He doesn't know?"
"I didn't want to tell him that I was planning to ditch him, not until I had a replacement," Heather said. "Dale is kind of a reluctant dad. He's still getting used to having a kid."
"Reluctant?"
"Yeah. He's always been emotionally closed off and I don't blame him," she said with a sigh. "Dale and I had different moms. His mom died when he was still little. When our dad died, we got separated. I stayed with my mom, and Dale went to live with our grandmother. We spent summers together at Grandma Eliza's though. After Dale went to college, our grandmother became a foster mom. She had a bunch of foster kids. Charlie was her last one. Grandma was planning to adopt him but she got cancer. Dale decided to adopt Charlie himself. It was for her sake so she would know he was taken care of. That was when I promised to help out because Dale had misgivings about taking care of a kid."
"I see. OK," Shawn said feeling like he understood things a little better. "We can test the waters, see how it goes. I'm just worried my childcare experience isn't going to impress." "I believe in you," Heather said and hugged him.
Shawn waited with Heather outside the elementary school but he hung back since this kid didn't know him. A little blond boy split off from all the other kids coming out of the school and ran straight for Heather. "Are we gonna go to the park?" he asked.
"Yes, we are. With this guy," she said and put her arm around Shawn to draw him closer.
"That's not Valencio," the kid said.
"Oh, no! I picked up the wrong guy," Heather joked.
For a second the kid's eyes went wide like he believed her. Then he laughed. "No you didn't. This guy is bigger."
"Oof, I'm glad Valencio isn't here to hear that," Heather said.
"What? He hasn't noticed I'm taller than him?" Shawn asked her.
Heather just rolled her eyes at him then she finally did the introductions. "This big guy is Shawn. And this little guy is Charlie."
"Nice to meet you, Charlie," Shawn said. "Did you have a good day at school."
"I did," he said but he was a little bit shy with Shawn. As they started walking toward the park, he talked to Heather though. "I met this new kid and he has the same name as Vic."
"What's his name?" Shawn asked with a grin.
"Vic!" Charlie said.
"Who's Vic?" Heather asked. "I mean the other Vic."
"One of my foster brothers. I had lots of foster brothers and foster sisters," Charlie said.
"He was in different foster homes before Grandma," Heather said. The mention of her grandmother made Charlie look sad, and Heather rubbed his shoulder. "I miss her too."
Charlie had gone quiet so Shawn asked him, "What grade are you in?"
"I'm in first grade. That's real school," Charlie said with a proud smile.
"It is. Very impressive," Shawn told him.
A little later they arrived at the park. "Let's see what food carts are out here. That will be your after school snack," Heather said.
"Hot dogs," Charlie said and looked around hopefully.
Shawn didn't see any hot dog vendors, but he did see this tall guy in an elegant coat. He was pacing, glancing at his phone and looking very hot. He wasn't Shawn's type at all. He was too well put together, plus Shawn wasn't there to stare at hot guys.
"Dale isn't late," Charlie said suddenly and pointed at the guy in the coat.
"No way. That's your brother," Shawn said to Heather.
"Don't get your hopes up. He's so uptight and only into rich guys," Heather said.
"I'm not interested, I'm just surprised," Shawn said a little defensively.
They went up to Dale and he put away his phone. He frowned at Shawn then looked at Heather questioningly.
"I was going to text you, but you're already here," Heather said explaining nothing. She was getting flustered, and Charlie had gone quiet and he only greeted Dale with a quiet "hi".
Shawn stepped up. "I'm Shawn Marler. I'm interested in a job as a nanny," he said to Dale.
He wasn't about to get rattled by this guy with dark hair and gray eyes who looked even hotter close up. Dale was back to giving Heather a questioning glare while she looked seriously guilty.
"Why don't Charlie and I get him a hot dog so you two can talk," Shawn said. He had finally spotted a hot dog vendor.
Now Charlie saw the same thing and he got excited. "Can we?" he asked. He was looking at both Heather and Dale.
"That would be fine," Dale said stiffly. As Shawn took Charlie to get his precious hot dog, he heard Dale asking Heather, "And why exactly do I need a nanny?"
Oh this was a great start. Shawn felt his chances of getting this job plummeting, but this wasn't the kind of job he was looking for anyway. Except something about how hesitant Charlie was with his dad made Shawn feel like he needed to take this job on the slim chance it was actually offered to him.
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
RJ ScottWriting love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee.
(Not necessarily in that order.)
She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.
Lorelei M HartLorelei M. Hart is the cowriting team of USA Today Bestselling Authors Kate Richards and Ever Coming. Friends for years, the duo decided to come together and write one of their favorite guilty pleasures: Mpreg. There is something that just does it for them about smexy men who love each other enough to start a family together in a world where they can do it the old-fashioned way ;).
Davidson King
RJ Scott
Lorelei M Hart
The Killer Kept Me by Davidson King
Blitz by RJ Scott & VL Locey
A Christmas for Holly by RJ Scott
Thanksgiving Manny by Trina Solet
