Thursday, March 5, 2026

⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine⏳: Calm by K Evan Coles & Brigham Vaughn




Summary:

Tidal #2
A love worth the wait.

When Riley Porter-Wright comes out as bisexual and confesses his feelings for Carter Hamilton, it severs their friendship. Carter’s rejection forces Riley to move on and he’s shocked to learn Carter’s marriage has fallen apart.

Overwhelmed by his failure as a husband and father, Carter misses Riley, but feels guilty for disappearing after Riley’s coming out. After Riley extends an olive branch, the former friends agree to repair their relationship. Slowly, Carter pieces together a new life, admits his attraction to men and confesses his feelings for Riley.

Leery of Carter’s initial rejection, Riley turns his focus to a new man, Will Martin.

Disappointed, Carter fosters new friendships with men like Jesse Murtagh and Kyle McKee, while also navigating new waters with his ex-wife, Kate, as their children learn their parents are dating other people.

As they rebuild their friendship, both Carter and Riley draw strength from each other, hoping the choices they’ve made are for the best.

Original Review September 2017:
When last we saw Riley Porter-Wright and Carter Hamilton, Riley had recently come out and admitted he was bisexual but Carter wasn't open to Riley's new found freedom and in the process wasn't there when his best friend needed his support. Now, as Carter's marriage has fallen apart, as disappointed as Riley was by the lack of support from his friend he decides to reach out to Carter and together they decide to rebuild their friendship. Calm focuses on Carter's acceptance of his sexuality and explores his attraction to men all while repairing his much loved friendship with Riley. As well, we see Riley himself has a new man in his life, Will Martin. Will the boys' new found self-acceptance lead them to a better direction, not only in love but also with family, friends, and each other?

I am just going to start by saying WOW!!! As much as I loved WakeCalm surpasses it. I pretty much touched on as much of the plot as I am going to in the above paragraph so let me just say that there is so much heart in this story, frankly I can't think of a more appropriate word to describe it than "heart". As with Wake, there is a little bit of everything in here: family(both good and bad), heat, passion, and even though this duology is a love story, for me it's even more a tale about friendship and discovery.

I won't lie, I was not overly happy with Carter when book one ended but the author's assured me that his journey was really only beginning and they were right of course. I love both men but I do think Riley tugged on my heart a little more, simply because he was the first to accept himself and a part of me just can't forget how Carter basically turned his back on his friend. Having said that, Carter will break your heart with the struggle he faces but he doesn't let himself get beaten down, he's a fighter even when he doesn't see it in himself.

Not only are you getting an amazingly well written story with intriguing characters but you may walk away learning something about yourself or at the very least, be reminded of what's really important in life. It may seem a cliche but happiness is not about the things or the stature but the people and emotions they fire up within you. Calm will leave you breathless, will leave you in tears, will break your heart but it also warms you, makes you smile, and can open your mind and heart to the possibilities out there, not to mention showing you just how important friendship truly is.

I can't wait to see what these two bring us in the future, both solo and combined efforts. Brigham Vaughn has firmly set her place on my favorite author's list and K Evan Coles is well on her way to being there too. When I first decided to go from reading slash fanfiction to published work, I asked some of my reading BFFs where to start, well it was K that first suggested I start with RJ Scott's Texas series and it has come full circle because now I am loving K's own work.

RATING: 




Riley Porter-Wright whistled as he let himself into his West Village apartment on a warm Thursday night in April. He’d left work with a spring in his step. He had a date with Will Martin—his boyfriend—that night, and a three-day weekend ahead of him.

As senior vice president and head of the e-pub division of his family’s publishing house, Riley had been delighted to share the year’s first quarter data for his division at the board meeting that afternoon. The numbers had been high enough to impress even Jonathon Porter-Wright, the CEO of the company and Riley’s father. He was a demanding man under the best of circumstances and the flicker of pleased surprise that had crossed his face during Riley’s presentation had been gratifying.

Although completely estranged from his parents since his coming out and divorce the previous fall, Riley still had to deal with his father at work. He was no longer concerned with living up to his father’s expectations, but Riley felt perversely pleased that the better he performed, the more of an ass his father appeared to be. There was a certain measure of satisfaction in proving to his father that being an openly bisexual man hadn’t done a thing to affect his career. If anything, finally feeling content with his life had improved Riley’s performance.

He’d left the office immediately after the board meeting and hurried home. He hastily dressed in a tux, then checked his watch to be sure he wasn’t late as he dashed out of the door. Why the Metropolitan opera held premieres on a weeknight, he didn’t know, but thankfully, Will didn’t have any classes to teach at NYU that evening.

Riley texted Will on the way to his building. He came out to meet Riley after the town car pulled up. The driver held the door while Will slid inside and gave Riley a brief, warm kiss. “Hey, good to see you.”

“You, too.” They’d both been busy in the past few weeks and hadn’t been able to spend much time together. Riley smiled at him, struck again by Will’s high cheekbones and classic good looks. Riley hadn’t seen him in a tuxedo before, but he wore it well. “How was your day?”

“Mmm, faculty meeting this afternoon and most of my students seem to have spring fever, so I’m glad it’s over,” Will replied with an easy grin, his blue eyes brightening. “Getting better now, though. Yours?”

“Great, actually, and I’m looking forward to tonight.”

They kept the discussion light while the car crossed Manhattan, but Riley’s anxiety rose as they neared the Kennedy Center. He straightened his bow tie for the umpteenth time. Will set a hand on his thigh, the touch warm and heavy.

“Are you sure you want to do this tonight?” Will asked softly. “You seem jittery.”

“Of course.” Riley gave Will a reassuring smile. “I’ll admit I’m…anxious about how it will go, but I refuse to let anyone keep me from living my life. I love opera and I want to share that with you.”

That night was the gala premier of Giulio Cesare and Riley had spent the better part of a week debating if he should invite Will to be his date. Riley had done little socializing with anyone from his past since his abrupt coming-out the previous November and subsequent divorce from his now ex-wife Alex. The possibility of seeing his parents was nerve-racking. Even worse was the thought of seeing his former best friend, Carter, and Carter’s wife, Kate. Carter had been shocked by Riley’s coming out and Riley’s confession that he loved Carter had driven a wedge between them. Riley hadn’t had any contact with Kate and, other than a brief and awkward run-in during the holidays at Serendipity when Carter had been out with the kids, Riley hadn’t seen Carter, either.

Will knew enough about his past that he wouldn’t be caught off-guard if an awkward situation arose, but that didn’t make it any easier. The thought of Will and Carter in the same room caused his anxiety to rise.

In the three months Riley and Will had been seeing each other, Will had more than lived up to Riley’s first impression of him. Not only gorgeous, he was thoughtful and well-read. Patient, too, while Riley shook off the hang-ups from his past and struggled to figure out the new path he was on. In fact, he’d been more than patient.

Although they’d been intimate in every other way, Riley hadn’t reached a point where he was ready to let Will penetrate him or vice versa. Will assured Riley he shouldn’t feel rushed and reminded him some men never wanted anal sex, but, still, it bothered Riley. They’d decided not to see other people, but sometimes Riley held Will at arm’s length when he should have been pulling him closer. Taking him to the opera tonight was one way to include Will in another part of his life. He genuinely cared for Will and thought maybe, in time, he could fall for him.

Riley could hardly say he was over Carter, but thoughts of Carter had grown less and less frequent. As time passed, the acute pain of losing him had faded to a dull ache. Time certainly did heal wounds, but, unfortunately, it did nothing to lessen the feeling that something important was missing from his life.

“I’m glad you invited me,” Will said, bringing him back to the moment.

Riley smiled warmly at him. “I’m glad you were willing to come. I don’t think my ex-wife will be there—she really only bothered with the events here to network—but I can’t promise anything. Let’s just hope we can make it through the night without any drama.”

“If there is, we’ll either ignore it or cut out early.” Will shrugged and slid his hand a little higher. He leaned in to whisper in Riley’s ear. “No matter what happens, the night can end in my bed with your dick in my mouth and you coming so hard you see stars.”

“Promises, promises,” Riley teased, his voice more breathless than he intended. He closed his eyes for a brief moment as Will feathered kisses against his jaw, then glanced at the driver in front of him. He was grateful for the man’s discretion and that he hadn’t once glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Although finally at ease with showing affection with Will in public, Riley didn’t want to make the driver uncomfortable.

Will pulled back when the car slowed to a stop and Riley looked up in surprise, realizing they were already in front of the Lincoln Center. He stepped onto the sidewalk and waited for Will to follow, nodding at a few people mingling outside the entrance whom he recognized. He couldn’t resist a peek at the fountain, half-expecting to see Carter standing beside it. But the familiar silhouette was nowhere in sight, so he turned back to Will.

“Still nervous?” Will asked quietly as they walked through the lobby, with its endless red-carpeted floors and the mid-century Sputnik-style chandeliers that had been a gift from the Austrian government.

“A little,” Riley replied. “Mostly trying not to think too much about your comment in the car. I’m afraid these pants don’t hide much.” He grinned wryly wry and Will laughed.

“Sorry.”

“As long as you follow through, I have no complaints.” Riley’s grin faded when they stepped into the cocktail reception. He glanced around anxiously. To his relief, the only familiar faces in sight were distant acquaintances and he and his date were able to get a drink and mingle. People stared, of course—he’d expected that—and there were a few who gave him and Will a suspiciously wide berth, but frankly, it went better than he’d anticipated.

Riley had just begun to relax when he spotted his parents. His good mood immediately plummeted, replaced by an increasing tightness in his chest. “That’s my parents ahead,” he murmured. “Brace yourself.”

The woman standing next to his mother noticed him. “Oh, look, Geneva, it’s Riley.” Her tone held a nasty note, as if she merely wanted to make a jab at his mother. Riley didn’t know Helena Finch well but enough to remember she was someone who should be aware of the current situation. Perhaps she disliked his mother, or maybe she just wanted to catch a bit of the gossip. He smiled thinly when he approached them, hoping for Will’s sake that the typical Porter-Wright way of handling difficult situations would hold out tonight. Ignoring the situation and acting politely in front of company sounded good to him.

“Will, this is Jonathon and Geneva Porter-Wright.” He nodded to his parents. “Jonathon, Geneva, this is William Martin.” He didn’t see any point in elaborating on Will’s part in his life. “Will’s a law professor at NYU.”

His mother nodded frostily and his father put out his hand. The gesture seemed hesitant and begrudging.

“Nice to meet you both.” Will’s tone came across as polite, but there was little of his usual warmth.

“Likewise.” His father didn’t try to hide his disdain.

A rotund gentleman who looked as if he might pop the buttons on his jacket at any moment held out his hand to Will. “Marcus Finch. I went to NYU law myself back in the day.”

Riley glanced at his mother, but she wouldn’t meet his eye. Outwardly, she appeared cool and composed, but Riley would bet agitation churned under the surface.

Helena gave Riley a knowing smile. “And Will is here with you? How interesting.” Her voice dripped with innuendo.

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while.” Riley kept his tone polite but cool. “On top of being a law professor, Will is a writer. We have a great deal in common.”

Will made small talk with Marcus while Riley remained silent.

“It appears they’re seating for dinner,” Geneva said after a few minutes, her voice brittle. “Come, Jonathon, we should find our seats. Nice seeing you, Marcus and Helena. Riley. Mr. Martin.” She disappeared before they could reply and Riley made polite excuses to the Finches. He and Will found their table, grateful to end the encounter. His parents would make sure their paths didn’t cross again that evening.

Riley didn’t relax until dinner had concluded and Will followed him to his box for the beginning of act one. He took a seat next to Will, relieved that dinner had been calm and uneventful.

“I’m glad you came with me tonight,” Riley told him with a smile. Will briefly touched Riley’s knee.

“I am, too.”

The final knot of worry in Riley’s chest dissipated and he got comfortable, eager to see the production. Unfortunately, the good mood only lasted until intermission.

Riley and Will were enjoying the champagne and dessert when a blonde in an ice-blue dress crossed his field of vision. Riley tensed at the sight of Kate Hamilton. He glanced around, trying to be casual as he searched for Carter, but found him nowhere in sight. Riley frowned. The crowd was thick, but Carter stood tall enough to be seen in any group. Perhaps he was in the restroom or had stepped outside to take a call. Kate headed toward him, although she hadn’t made eye contact yet.

Riley set down his champagne glass, his hands suddenly nerveless and clumsy when Kate spotted him. Her eyes went wide and she came to an abrupt stop. “Riley.”

“How are you, Kate?”

“I’m fine.” Her smile seemed automatic, forced. Riley paused, really looking at Kate. She appeared to have lost weight and her normally bright eyes and smile were dimmer than usual. Although beautifully made up as always, something was off.

“Will, I’d like to introduce you to Kate Hamilton, a good friend of mine. Kate, this is Will Martin, law professor, writer and my date this evening.”

The corners of Kate’s mouth briefly tightened before she smiled at Will and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Will.”

“Likewise.” Will, in turn, appeared relaxed and comfortable. Clearly, whatever was obvious to Riley wasn’t to someone who had never met Kate before.

“Are you as big of a fan of opera as Riley is?” Kate asked.

Will grinned. “I’m not sure anyone’s as big of a fan as Riley, but I do enjoy it.” Will brushed his fingertips across Riley’s back. “I’m glad he wanted to share it with me.”

“Oh, I’ve been known to give Riley a run for his money,” Kate said lightly.

A little more warmth appeared in her eyes, but she still seemed off and Riley turned to Will, laying a hand on his arm.

“Would you get me another glass of champagne? I’d like a moment to talk to Kate, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Will reassured him.

“Thank you. I’ll try not to be long.” Riley squeezed Will’s arm.

“Take your time. I’ll be over by the bar when you’re done.” He nodded at Kate. “Very nice to meet you, Kate.”

“You, too.”

Will left with a smile and Riley felt grateful for his understanding. He turned back to Kate, growing serious. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t seem…” He wasn’t sure how to finish. Kate seemed unhappy, stressed. “Is it that Carter’s around and you’re worried about us running into each other?”

She shook her head. “No. Carter’s…Carter’s not here with me.”

Kate’s fingers trembled as she smoothed them over her pale blue dress and, although it took him a moment, Riley finally registered what was wrong with the picture. A faint stripe of lighter skin adorned the third finger of her left hand instead of the glittering diamond ring Riley had carried in the breast pocket of his tux the morning of Carter’s wedding. He wanted to ask her about it but realized there were too many people around. “Can we talk? Privately?”

She nodded, the motion tense and jerky. Riley steered them toward a secluded alcove, reminded of the night he and Carter had discussed finding a woman to join them. It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago, rather than just over a year. “What’s going on, Kate? I know you well enough to know you’re not okay.”

She let out a shaky breath. “Riley, a lot has happened since we last saw each other.”

He bit back a disbelieving laugh. “I’m well-aware.”

Her expression softened. “I know. You’ve been dealing with…well, more than any man should. I’m sorry to hear about your parents. They’re completely out of line.”

“It wasn’t unexpected.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“And what about you? Is something going on with you and Carter? I noticed you aren’t wearing your ring.”

She glanced down at her left hand with a wistful glance. “Carter and I are separated. We’re in the process of filing for divorce.”

Riley blinked at her. “You what? Christ, what happened, Kate?”

The sad smile was trained on him, her tone gentle, but the words barbed. “You came out.”

Blanching, Riley tried to make sense of what she’d said. “I don’t understand.”

Her gaze remained unflinching, but her voice became so quiet he could barely hear it. “Carter told me the truth, Riley. The girls in college, the escort…your feelings for him.”

The news hit him like a ton of bricks. “I’m so fucking sorry, Kate.” His voice grew raw. “We never meant to—”

“I know. But it hurts deeply to know my husband and a man I considered a good friend betrayed me that way.” Kate’s voice shook. Riley saw the strain on her face as she struggled to keep it together. She looked away and he gave her a moment to compose herself before she continued. “How long, Riley?”

“What do you mean?”

“How long have you loved him?”

“Since college,” he admitted. “Probably since the moment I met him.”

She shook her head and dropped her voice to a whisper. “The whole time. Long before Carter and I met.”

Riley swallowed, his throat suddenly tight.

“How could you let him marry me?” she continued. “How could you stand beside him at the altar and hand him the ring when you loved him?”

“Because I truly believed it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t tell him how I felt—I could hardly even admit it to myself. He loved you—he really did—and I thought if he married you, the feelings I had for him wouldn’t matter. Asking Carter to divorce you to be with me last November was out of line. I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t cope with hiding my feelings for him anymore. I thought he needed to know the truth. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love Carter, but I understand he doesn’t feel the same way about me. I know that now.” His voice sounded strained, even to him. “I wish it hadn’t taken the end of both our marriages and our friendship to prove that, though.”

“Me, too.” She stared him straight in the eye. “You know, he’s been a wreck since then, Riley. And when he ran into you before New Year’s, he became so depressed. He barely slept or ate—he just…wasn’t himself. He couldn’t live with the lies anymore and it all fell apart after that.”

“It kills me to know I hurt both of you.” He looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “I’ve come to terms with the fact I’ve lost Carter. I’m moving on now. Figuring out my life.”

“And Will?”

“We’re seeing each other. I care about him, but we’re—we’re taking things slow. He doesn’t know the exact details, but he knows there’s someone else I still have feelings for.”

“As long as you’re being honest with him.”

“I am.” Riley shoved his hands in his pockets. “I won’t live a lie like that again. I never should have done it in the first place.”

“I think the worst part is, I didn’t know I was,” Kate said softly, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I think somewhere deep down, I knew there was something between you and Carter, but I truly didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe the happy marriage and family were real.”

“Carter loves you and the kids. I know he does,” he whispered, his voice raw. “There are so many things I wish I’d done differently. Hurting you and the kids…I hope you know how much I regret it. Although I hoped Carter would want to be with me, I don’t think I ever believed he’d leave you. I know he didn’t want to tear apart your marriage or your family.”

“We can’t always predict the outcome of these things.” She laid a hand on his forearm, her smile wistful. “Besides, you coming out may have precipitated this, but it became inevitable. Once Carter stopped being honest with me, this was bound to happen. I am so, so angry at both of you, but I am trying to understand it. I can’t imagine what keeping your feelings a secret must have been like. Maybe once the hurt passes, I’ll be able to forgive you.”

He nodded, his heart aching. “It’s more than I deserve.”

Before she could reply, the lights dimmed briefly, indicating intermission had ended. She offered him a small, sympathetic smile. “I need to head back to my seat, but, Riley, I’m glad we talked.”

“So am I. Take care of yourself, Kate.”

“You, too.”

He stood staring after Kate until someone gently touched his upper back. He turned to see Will staring at him with a worried frown.

“Are you all right?” Will asked.

Riley shook his head to clear it. “Yeah. We should get back to our seats, though.”

Will nodded and fell into step beside him, his gaze worried. Riley couldn’t blame him. The conversation with Kate had completely thrown him and he knew he was acting oddly. He needed some time to process it.

Throughout the second half of the performance, Riley felt grateful for Will’s silent presence. He hadn’t asked Riley to explain, had merely sat beside him and laid a comforting hand on his knee. Riley didn’t know what to think of the conversation with Kate. Despite having wanted Carter to end his marriage, the news that Kate and Carter were no longer together felt like an unexpected blow. It would be difficult to come to terms with his partial responsibility for it. He’d never wanted to hurt Carter or Kate and his heart ached for Sadie and Dylan.

He instinctively wanted to reach out to Carter and see if he needed to talk, but Riley wondered if Carter would welcome it or not. Would he blame Riley for the end of his marriage? Was there any hope of repairing their friendship?



The Speakeasy
Media mogul Jesse Murtagh and bartender Kyle McKee decide to go into business together and open Under Lock & Key, a speakeasy on the upper West Side of Manhattan. The bar, with its secret passphrases and craft liquor cocktails, becomes a sanctuary for Jesse and Kyle’s circle of friends, who gather once a month to catch up with each other and share their experiences.

Under is both hang out and haven for the men who spend time within its walls and their friendships build family ties that are sometimes missing from their own lives.

Saturday's Series Spotlight
 
The Speakeasy
Part 1  /  Part 2

Sunday's Short Stack





K Evan Coles
K. Evan Coles is a mother and tech pirate by day and a writer by night. She is a dreamer who, with a little hard work and a lot of good coffee, coaxes words out of her head and onto paper.

K. lives in the northeast United States, where she complains bitterly about the winters, but truly loves the region and its diverse, tenacious and deceptively compassionate people. You’ll usually find K. nerding out over books, movies and television with friends and family. She’s especially proud to be raising her son as part of a new generation of unabashed geeks.

K.’s books explore LGBTQ+ romance in contemporary settings.








Brigham Vaughn
Brigham Vaughn is on the adventure of a lifetime as a full-time writer. She devours books at an alarming rate and hasn’t let her short arms and long torso stop her from doing yoga.  She makes a killer key lime pie, hates green peppers, and loves wine tasting tours. A collector of vintage Nancy Drew books and green glassware, she enjoys poking around in antique shops and refinishing thrift store furniture. An avid photographer, she dreams of traveling the world and she can’t wait to discover everything else life has to offer her.

Her books range from short stories to novellas. They explore gay, lesbian, and polyamorous romance in contemporary settings.




K Evan Coles
FACEBOOK  /  FB FRIEND  /  WEBSITE
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EMAIL: coles.k.evan@gmail.com

Brigham Vaughn
FACEBOOK  /  BLUESKY  /  FB FRIEND
WEBSITE  /  NEWSLETTER  /  BOOKBUB
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LINKTREE  /  PINTEREST  /  B&N
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EMAIL: brighamvaughn@gmail.com


Southampton Sea Breeze
πŸ‘€Free ReadπŸ‘€

The Speakeasy Series
B&N  /  KOBO  /  GOOGLE PLAY



Monday, March 2, 2026

Monday Morning's Menu: Learning to Love by Felice Stevens



Summary:
Together #1
After ten years away from home, bad boy caterer Gideon Marks has a lot to prove. Getting the holiday catering job at his childhood synagogue is the first step in demonstrating to everyone he didn’t turn out to be the failure they predicted. What he doesn’t count on is Rabbi Jonah Fine, his high school nemesis and secret crush, stirring up old feelings Gideon thought long gone and secrets he’s buried deep for years.

An unexpectedly passionate encounter shocks Gideon, but he pushes Jonah away, convinced he isn’t good enough to be in a relationship and would never be accepted by Jonah’s father. But Jonah hangs tough—he won’t allow Gideon to hide or run away from life again. And when it comes to love, Gideon learns the most important lessons aren’t always taught in school.

Original Review May 2016:
Another great story by Felice Stevens!  There is connection, chemistry, history, love, food, and it is all wrapped up in a nice happily ever after package.  Some might say that knowing you are reading a happily ever after before going in is a major spoiler but for me, it is not always about where they end up but how they got there and that is what Miss Stevens brings you: the journey.  It takes talent to bring you a tale based on how and not just the endgame, so I highly recommend checking out this great little love story.  We've all had at least one unrequited crush in our school days but finding out it may not have been so unrequited and are given a second chance you can't ignore it.  If you have never read Felice Stevens before, this is a perfect place to start and if you have, well you know Learning to Love is worth checking out.

RATING: 




“How did you know where to find me?”

“I didn’t. But when I went to your apartment and discovered you weren’t home, I thought to myself, ‘Where would a chef be early on Saturday morning?’”

Pleased he’d thought so carefully about me, I bit my lip to keep from smiling, then muttered with my head down, “Lucky guess on your part.”

“I’d like to think so,” said Jonah, his voice as soft as the breeze. My eyes met his, the hurt from our last conversation shimmering bright in their depths, causing a throb within me of a longing I’d never known existed. “Or maybe it was fate.”

He smiled then plucked the paper bag of rugelach out of my clutches, rummaged through it until he found an apricot one, and bit off half.

“Well, if you’re that hungry, I guess you can come home with me, and I’ll make you an omelet,” I grumbled but couldn’t stop the small grin tugging at my lips. “But I planned on browsing a bit more through the market first.”

“I’d like that.” Jonah walked beside me, and we meandered past the stands piled high with colorful peppers and squash. We strolled in silence, but every few steps I’d sneak a glance at him, expecting Jonah to speak. Instead he remained irritatingly, cheerfully silent.

I sampled some hot mulled cider and licked my lips. Spending so much time with Jonah gave me new insight. I’d always thought him superior and judgmental; perhaps I had been wrong in my assessment. He captivated me with the humor in his speech, warmth in his smile, and that unmistakable flare of desire in his eyes. Goddamn it, I wanted him.

I extended the paper cup. “Do you want a sip?” Its heady cinnamon scent remained one of my most favorite things about the fall season. To my shock, instead of answering me, he bent down and kissed me on my lips, lapping at their sticky sweetness. He stepped back, but I put a restraining hand on his wrist.

“What’s going on? Why are you really here?”

The honesty in Jonah’s face took my breath away.

“Do you really have to ask, after the last time?”

My body refused to listen to the war inside my head, kindling a deep need I couldn’t understand. I took a step forward, but unlike me, Jonah didn’t retreat. He stood firm, and I stood close enough to almost touch. Close enough to smell him.

“I’m not who you want; can’t you see that?”

“You don’t have any idea what I see when I look at you, Gideon.”

I wanted to yell back at him, No, you have no idea who I am, but I couldn’t bring myself to ruin the moment. I had no clue who Jonah thought I was, but I wanted to be that man if only to be able to have him always look at me like this. Like I was special. Like I was his. The sun beat hot upon my shoulders, and I held his gaze while contentment poured over me like a warm summer rain.




Felice Stevens

Felice Stevens writes romance because what is better than people falling in love? Her favorite part of a romance novel is that first kiss…sigh. She loves creating stories of hopes and dreams and happily ever afters. Her stories are character-driven, rich with the sights, sounds and flavors of New York City and filled with men who are sometimes deeply flawed but always real.

Felice writes M/M romance because she believes that everyone deserves a happily ever after. Having traveled all over the world, she can safely say that the universal language that unites people is love. Felice has written in a variety of sub-genres, including contemporary, paranormal and has a mystery series as well.

Felice is a two-time Lambda Literary award nominee, and Lambda award winner for Best Gay Romance for her book, The Ghost and Charlie Muir.


FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB FRIEND
WEBSITE  /  NEWSLETTER  /  BLUESKY
AUDIBLE  /  B&N  /  KOBO  /  BOOKBUB
iTUNES  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS
EMAIL: felice@felicestevens.com



Learning to Love #1
B&N  /  KOBO  /  AUDIBLE
SMASHWORDS  /  iTUNES  /  BOOKBUB

Series
B&N  /  KOBO  /  SMASHWORDS


Sunday, March 1, 2026

🎭Week at a Glance🎭: 2/23/26 - 3/1/26

















Sunday's Sport Stats: Powder by RJ Scott & VL Locey




Summary:

Railers Leagcy #3
Two weeks. No promises. Just passion… until the Winter Games change everything.

Jack O’Leary, veteran defenseman and captain of the Railers, isn’t sure where his life’s headed. Fresh off a painful divorce and staring down the end of his career, he books a vacation to clear his head—romance not included. But when he meets a fiery young snowboarder who refuses to let him hide behind his walls, Jack finds himself falling hard for the first time in years. When their paths cross again at the Winter Games, Jack must decide if he’s brave enough to chase the future he never expected.

Tian-Lei Cai-Wilder’s living the dream—endorsements, medals, and the bright spotlight of snowboarding fame. His reward? Two weeks in the sun to finally breathe. Meeting Jack wasn’t part of the plan, but the gruff, gorgeous hockey legend is impossible to resist. Their vacation fling burns hot and ends clean… or so Tian thinks. When they’re both chosen for Team USA, sparks fly all over again—only this time, the whole world is watching.

Powder is a steamy age-gap, opposites-attract, second-chance sports romance featuring a brooding hockey veteran, a golden-boy snowboarder, and a fling that refuses to stay in the past.



This has been on my kindle longer than I care to admit and I'm embarrassed by the fact that I hadn't read the blurp closer because had I, I would have read this before the Winter Games a couple of weeks ago instead of after. Though, TBH, with the Paralympics about to start it is still Olympic season so I guess it's okayπŸ˜‰.

Gotta admit something else, I am not much of a snowboarding follower, I watched a couple of the runs during the Games while waiting for sledding & curling events but that's it, so I can't speak to the accuracy the authors gave it but knowing their work as I do, I'm guessing they did their research to give it the respect it deserves.

Onto Powder . . . 

This is the third entry in the authors' next generation in their hockey universe, Railers Legacy and I found it interesting to see an older member of the team as the focus(or half of the focusπŸ˜‰) of this story. When people think of next generations in entertainment, they tend to expect younger characters, so this was a nice surprise. Jack and Tian go together so perfectly, and the fact that their age difference really didn't come into lay other than some minor brother/sister dialog, and I love the fact that it wasn't their shared goal of medal aspirations that connect them(ie their first meeting but I won't go beyond detail-wiseπŸ˜‰). Don't get me wrong, an actual Olympic meet would have been great too but IMO, this made for an even better story.

If I'm 100% honest, as much as I love the guys, it's Jack's relationship with his sister that really jumped out at me. I'm an only child but having read this near my uncle's(who is no longer with us) birthday(finished it on the day actually) and barely a year past losing my mom, I couldn't help but think of what they were like as kids. They grew apart after he got married but I think there was an unexpected snarkyness to them growing up(going by stories Mom told) and Jack & Fiona spoke to those story memories. For that, I want to thank RJ Scott & VL Locey, giving me a chance to picture them in Jack & Fi's place, it brought more than a few tears but they were all happy tears. Thank you πŸ’“ 

I won't go further so as not to spoil anything. I will add that Jack and Tian are great together and though they are seemingly at different places in their sporting careers, they both give it everything they have but they manage to not let it get in the way of their growing co-journey. They are both characters I would be happy to know in my daily life which helped me connect to and root for them. There is some build-up to the authors' next Legacy entry, Fly, which I have a feeling will be more angsty/dramatic than Powder but that won't keep me away. 

Powder is a lovely heartwarming and enjoyable gem and though it may be less dramatic than many of their entries, its not all laughs either, a great blend of romance, humor, healing making for an all around gem that will make you smile, we all need more of them in our lives.

RATING:





ONE
Jack
“Not to be unkind, but is this really all your stuff?” I stared around the last two boxes of hockey memorabilia at my sister, Fiona. She was the prettiest thing, and no, that wasn’t me being biased because I’m her older brother. Long strawberry blonde hair, bright blue eyes, slim and fit, and the owner of two dimples that flashed when she smiled. I nodded as I put the boxes of old sweaters, milestone pucks, and skates as old as Fiona onto the kitchen counter. “Christ, Jack, that’s fucking depressing.”

Oh, and she was also brutally honest, but thank the saints she’d learned to curb that, or her job as a private flight attendant would have ended on day one.

“I wanted Paula to be well-settled,” I mumbled, knowing full well my darling sister would come unglued over that comment.

“‘Settled’ is one thing. Giving her the house, the cars, the dog, and everything else she demanded is another.”

I’d heard this all before. A hundred times. Maybe five hundred. And while I loved that my sibling was on the defensive about me even though she was a hundred pounds lighter and eight inches shorter than me, she was known to get in a person’s face to stick up for me. My ex-wife Paula was one of the biggest examples. Fiona and Paula had never gotten along. The divorce had not improved that strained relationship. Fiona called my ex a horse, and my ex called Fiona an ogre. The two of them fought way more than Paula and I did throughout our marriage. You have to care to fight, and Paula didn’t care how it turned out.

“Fi, please, I’m not in the mood,” I said, then sighed as I looked around my brand-new bachelor pad. One bedroom, one bath, a spacious but empty living room, a kitchen, and a tiny laundry room. All very nice, quite expensive, and overlooking the Walnut Street Bridge, a famed bridge that’d been closed in the seventies but was now used by pedestrians and bikers for access to City Island. It was home now. Not exactly the sprawling three-bedroom, two-bath, two-thousand-two-hundred-square-foot with a two-car garage I’d bought for Paula after our wedding ten years ago in Elizabethtown. I mean… not even close. But it was mine. Empty. Which was kind of how my chest felt whenever I thought about how I’d failed my wife.

“Do keep in mind that she did cheat on you so that should have earned her nothing over the fifty-fifty split the state says she was owed,” Fiona fired back as she shimmied up to sit on the smooth white counter, her long red/gold ponytail sliding over her shoulder. A nice summer breeze blew in through the window over the sink. May was already warming up nicely. “Not sure why you felt that she deserved so much in the settlement when all she did was sit around, and sleep with her yoga instructor.”

I rolled my eyes. “For the last time she wouldn’t have gone looking for another man if I’d been home more,” I repeated clearly and slowly in the hopes she would absorb it.

She reached out to flick my forehead. With a porcelain nail painted soft pink. It stung. “Jonathon Patrick Killian O’Leary, you’ve taken too many hits to the head if you really believe that. Loads of spouses are faithful when their men or women are on the road. She was just using that as a reason to do a double down dog split up the ass with Sage Happy Hatha for three years while you were out bleeding all over the ice.”

“I rarely bleed all over the ice, Fiona Katherine Margaret Shillelagh O’Leary. I make other men bleed all over the ice.”

She flicked my brow again. “Do not add that walking stick moniker to my name. The three plus the surname are bad enough.” I snickered. “And it will not dissuade me from talking about the nag who now owns your dog and drives your cars.”

God, she was tenacious. “The dog was hers, a gift, and the car was also hers. I have my truck. I don’t need or want a pink Audi. How would it look for the captain of the Railers to pull up to the barn in a bright pink car with fake eyelashes over the headlights?”

“Seriously, why does she have to be such a real-life Barbie?”

I didn’t have an answer for that. Paula had been a few years younger than me, yes, and so stunningly beautiful that I’d never quite felt fit to be with a young woman of such incredible beauty. She’d modeled in New York before we got married. I’d never found her fondness for pink or her affinity for tiny purse dogs odd. She’d been bubbly and fawned over me. For the first few years. Then it all started to go wrong. I was away too much, she was lonely, life wasn’t as glamorous as she’d expected, and on it went.

“You’re too nice.”

I shrugged. Yeah, maybe so, but when I loved someone, I showered them with affection. That was how men were supposed to act around their heart’s desires. Our father had spoiled our mother terribly. Forty years of wedded bliss they’d had before they’d lost their lives to a drunk driver one dark winter night back home in Montpelier. God, I missed them. They would have been heartbroken and so disappointed in me for allowing my career to ruin my⁠—

“Ow, fucking hell, stop doing that,” I snapped after another hard flick to my forehead. “I’m going to dunk you in the Schuylkill if you do that again.”

Fiona gave me a soft push on the chest. She knew I was full of hot air. I’d throw myself into the river that flowed through Harrisburg before I chucked her in it. Now, when we were kids…

“Okay, I’ll drop it. For now. Do you want me to call a designer to come in and add some life to this place? It has nice bones, Jack, it just needs some color and maybe a picture on the wall that isn’t of a hockey rink?” I leaned my ass on the counter. The place was sparse, but I really didn’t care about all that silliness. “Right, I see that pucker on your forehead so what I’m going to do is make sure you have things like drapes, a nice bedding set, as you left all the sheets and towels in the house for your horse of an ex⁠—”

“Fiona…”

She flipped her ponytail, then winked. “Sorry, it’s her teeth.”

“Her teeth are fine.” They should be. I’d spent tens of thousands of dollars on them. Not that she had modeled again once we’d gotten married, but she liked to be pretty. I liked to look at pretty women, and some men on occasion, and I had the cash, so why not give her what she wanted?

Fiona waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll outfit the place for you because I love you and know that if I don’t get you set up properly, you’ll be drying yourself on paper towels after a shower.”

You do that one time in college, and your sister never forgets.

“I also wanted to talk to you about taking a vacation.” I must have made a noise as she tsked me instantly. “No, no, do not make that Dad sound. He always did that when he disliked something. Sucked air between his teeth. You need to get out into the world, Jack, meet new people, maybe have a wild affair.”

“Nope, I… no, I do not want to have a wild affair with anyone.” I walked out of the kitchen to the living room, folded my arms, and planted my feet. This was my captain’s stance. Next, I locked my jaw. My captain’s expression. Men of great size and meaty fists would see me like this and not push.

Fiona, on the other hand…

“Honey,” she cooed as she followed me into the cavernous room. I really did need a couch to soak up the sound. “I’m not saying you have to propose to anyone. Please, don’t. But just get your willie wet with some bouncy beach babe or surfer dude. Flush that rancid memory of Trigger from your mind and heart.” She came around in front of me, tipped her head back, and met my glower with a loving look before snuggling close for a hug. I kept my arms crossed for about a millisecond before opening them and embracing her. She smelled like vanilla and a flowery scent. “I want you to be happy again. You’ve been so sad since the divorce decree. I know it was a letdown for the team to get knocked out in the first round, too, so all of this is sitting on your chest. Let me see if I can find a nice sunny destination for you. Somewhere packed with singles, where you can lounge on a beach, sip drinks with paper umbrellas, and reacquaint yourself with how damned charming and handsome you are.”

I tucked her head under my hairy chin. I’d yet to shave my red playoff beard. I tended to cling to things for far too long. My marriage, for example. My beard. My old running shoes. My ten-speed. My skates and sticks from my days at Bowling Green. My ragtag collection of Timmy Horton hockey cards. Several pairs of boxer shorts.

“Not sure I’d say handsome,” I mumbled as we hugged it out. My nose was off-center from being broken in a game against Pittsburgh five years ago, then again against the Raptors two years ago. I had surgery scars on my left shoulder, a knee that swelled when the atmospheric pressure dropped, and a jagged white line on my jawline from an errant stick to the kisser that had resulted in ten stitches just this year. Hockey was a tough game.

“See, that right there is your ex talking.” She gave my side a pinch then tilted her head up to gaze at me. “You’re very handsome. Some would say rugged. Beefy, tough as nails, sweet as a honey roll⁠—”

“Do not say that honey roll crap anywhere near the barn or the Railers locker room. The kids like Gunny and Trick need to know that I’ll grind them into paste if they don’t play up to their potential.”

She smiled up at me. “I think they know that you’re a goober belly.” She jabbed my gut, which was not goober-bellied at all but nice and tight. I worked out every day. I even had abs under the thick pelt of reddish-blond hair on my belly. “But I’ll be sure to extoll your pasting abilities when I see them next.”

Which wouldn’t be until September. The season was over, our lockers cleared out, our hopes dashed. Sure, we’d made it to the first round, but then we’d tanked. I’d told the press I was sorry for letting the team and the city down. I’d been so into my own personal shit that I’d not given the team my full one hundred percent on the ice. Our failure was on me. I was the captain. It was down to me to talk the guys up, keep the locker room pumped, and ensure the team stayed mentally on track. I’d failed at that. Just like I’d failed to keep my wife happy and⁠—

“Ow!” I winced at the nail flick.

“You had that I-suck-and-want-to-wallow-in-my-suckiness look on your face.” She reached up to rub my brow. “Sorry, but you need someone to keep you from sliding into that pit of self-loathing that your ex kicked you into with her infidelity. And since we only have each other now, that person is me.”

“I love that you’re my pit person,” I confessed. She nuzzled in for another hug. “I’ll think about a vacation.” I couldn’t see it as her nose was smushed into my chest, but I knew she was smiling her smug smile of success. “I said I’ll think about it. Do not make reservations.”


A week later, I was rolling my boxer shorts that didn’t have elastic showing into tight little logs because Fiona had made reservations and lined up a round-trip flight to Belize. Caye Caulker to be exact. She listened about as well as the Yorkie Paula toted around in oversized bags and called Bapsi-Boodles.

After hurriedly shoving my clothes into my suitcase, I sat on it and shouted at it because I was in a bad mood and couldn’t bring myself to yell at Fiona. Deep down, I knew she was only trying to pull me out of my funk. She loved me and thought a couple of weeks on a Caribbean island would help me feel better. Which, sure, it probably would to some extent, but if she thought I was going to go wild and jump into bed with the first man or woman who looked at me, she was very wrong. Yes, it had been over eighteen months since I’d been with someone intimately. My hand didn’t count, although even using that had started to decline.

I just wasn’t interested. Mom used to say that I loved with my whole being. I guess that was true because ever since Paula and I split, my sex drive has been pretty low. I’ve never been the type to go for one-night stands. I prefer some emotion, or at least for the person I was with to know my name, as silly as that sounds. I’ve had two girlfriends, and I married one. In college, I also dated a man for a few months, but the pressure from school and hockey was just too much. Plus, it was much easier to ask out girls. Not that I did that much. That first girlfriend was my steady from junior year through graduation. Then she moved west, and I got drafted by the New York team, where I met Paula. I fell pretty hard.

We’d gotten married, and she had packed up to move several times before we settled in Pennsylvania when the Railers picked me out of the reduced-for-quick-sale bin. Turned out to be the best thing for me, and the Railers, as I thrived on the ice and was named captain in my third year. The move to the Keystone State did not do my marriage any good. Paula was dour by then, complaining steadily about the dullness of this state, how she longed to return to Manhattan, and how I was unable to meet her emotional needs when I was away so much. Obviously, I wasn’t satisfying a few other of her needs. And if that wasn’t a kick in the balls to a man’s ego, I don’t know what was.

The alarm on my phone rang out, pulling me from the memories of the past. I latched my suitcase, grabbed the handle, and made my way out of the bedroom to the living room. Over the past week, Fiona had flown to Paris with a wealthy businessman in a private jet and had been tipped five grand for her exemplary service. Seemed she knew how to make a dry martini just the way the rich dude’s mistress liked them. Guess no one really cared about vows or fidelity anymore. Anyway, the tip had been blown on my condo. I now had furnishings, plates, pots, a few plants that I would kill sure as hell before the snow flew, and a TV set with a PlayStation. Among all the things delivered here, I used the TV and game console the most. And the bed. The new sheets and duvet were nice; I had to give my sister that.

A text arrived while I was shoving my wallet into my back pocket. Fiona reminded me not to miss my flight, or she would hire a boat to float me to Belize. I hit her back with a kind and loving reply.

I’m 37 yrs old. I know where the airplanes are. – J

I got a row of big eyeballs as a reply. Yeah, yeah, she was always watching me. Shouldn’t I be the one keeping an eye on her? I was the oldest after all. Not sure how our dynamic had changed so drastically. I made a last check of the condo, patted my ass for a wallet check, stuck my cell into the front pocket of my jeans, and grabbed my suitcase. Down the elevator I went to the lobby to find the ride Fiona had arranged—she wasn’t taking any chances that I would not get to the airport—waiting outside the tall tower I now called home. No one waved goodbye, no one kissed my cheek, no one wished me a safe flight at the door.

Being single sucked.

The ride to Harrisburg International was pleasant enough. I’d left my beard on my face, just neatened it a bit, so fans would be thrown off if they spied me at the airport. Not that I didn’t love our fans, I did, but man they could be rough. If one more dude bro came up to me to inform me we’d shit the bed last month I just might run out onto the I-83 and be done with it all. My driver was pleasant but not overly chatty. I arrived with two hours until boarding, checked my bag, went to the bathroom, and bought a soda that I downed. I took my time, no rushing, and made my way with ease through the TSA checkpoint. On the other side I found a seat facing the runway, my sight locked on the planes being readied for their flights. I’d flown a lot in my years. I mean a lot. I had no idea how many miles a hockey player logs in his life, but it was enormous. I’d flown into snowstorms, thunderheads, and the tip of a hurricane. I’d landed on ice strips where the plane went sideways after landing. Once we were blown off-course on a takeoff from Chicago-O’Hare. One time we lost an engine and had to turn around over the Canadian wilderness.

As my group was called to board I ambled forward, carry-on resting on my shoulder, without a care in the world. While some others around me were chatting nervously. I was plotting out my nap. When you’ve flown into a flock of birds and lived to tell the tale there was little that was going to make this flight to paradise anything other than mundane. Since Fiona had booked me in first class—on her—I settled into the large seat in the middle with a seat on my right and one across the aisle. I loved it. Seriously, a guy of my size did not do well in coach. Knowing I could stretch out without getting dirty glances from the people in front of me was everything.

The plane filled quickly. I texted Fiona a selfie of me all tucked into my fancy nook. The doors were closed then, and I found myself scanning the cover of the book I’d picked up in the airport when there was a commotion up front. The door was reopened. Glancing up from my phone, I watched as a man hurried onto the plane, his dark hair windblown as if he had raced through the airport. When the guy glanced my way, my stomach dropped. His dark brown gaze locked with mine for a second. He nodded at the flight attendant and then made his way to his seat. On my right. The smell of citrus and sweat curled around me as he rushed to stow his carry-on down by his feet. I stared. I couldn’t help it. He was perhaps the handsomest man I’d ever seen.

He flashed me a smile that made that turbulent feeling reappear. I hurried to buckle my belt before I did something stupid like gasp and tumble into the aisle. Team captains didn’t gasp at sexy men.



Saturday's Series Spotlight
Harrisburg Raptors
Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3  /  Part 4

Owatonna U
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Arizona Raptors
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Boston Rebels
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Chestorford Coyotes

LA Storm
Shield  /  Spiral

Railers Legacy
Speed  /  Blitz  /  Powder  /  Fly

Hockey Universe
Xmas Edition
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Road to the Stanley Cup Edition
Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3

Father's Day Edition

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Valentine's Day Edition





RJ Scott
Writing 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.







VL Locey
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.




RJ Scott
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk
EMAIL: vicki@vllocey.com



Powder #3

Harrisburg Railers Series

Owatonna U Series

Arizona Raptors Series

Boston Rebels Series

Chestorford Coyotes Series

LA Storm Series

Sparkle #1.5(LA Storm)

Railers Legacy Series