🎅📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘🎄: A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Summary:

Experience Charles Dickens's Christmas masterpiece, featuring the authentic first-edition illustrations by John Leech that defined the story for generations.

When the miserly Ebenezer Scrooge dismisses Christmas as mere "humbug," he has no idea that his cold heart is about to be transformed forever. On a bitter Christmas Eve in Victorian London, Scrooge receives an otherworldly visitation from his deceased business partner, Jacob Marley, who brings a dire warning: three spirits will visit before dawn, offering one last chance at redemption. As the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come guide Scrooge through forgotten memories, hidden truths, and possible futures, he witnesses the true spirit of Christmas through the joy of his nephew's dinner and the humble celebrations of Bob Cratchit's family—including the unforgettable Tiny Tim.

Originally published on December 19, 1843, A Christmas Carol became an instant sensation, selling out its entire first edition by Christmas Eve. Dickens's timeless tale of transformation has shaped Christmas traditions for over 180 years, creating an unforgettable journey from darkness to light, from isolation to community, and from despair to hope that reminds us it's never too late to change and embrace the true meaning of Christmas.

This beautiful edition features:

Original, first-edition, high-quality illustrations by John Leech, the artist who first brought Scrooge, the spirits, and Victorian Christmas to visual life.

A comprehensive quiz at the end to test your knowledge of Scrooge's journey and the beloved characters.

The complete, unabridged text exactly as Dickens wrote it.

A unique cover design that captures the story's timeless appeal.

Easy-to-read typesetting that both children and adults can enjoy.

Free Family Reading Starter Kit – matching bookmark plus interactive Bingo game, discussion questions, and creative activities for reading classics together.

A Christmas Carol, the story that remains one of the most beloved tales ever written, will be the perfect gift for book lovers and a treasured addition to your holiday collection!

Original Blog Review December 2014:

Not all of Charles Dickens' work is among my reading list but A Christmas Carol is my favorite of all.  It's the best Christmas tale, in my opinion.  At the heart of the story is what so many of us tend to forget, although perhaps not to the extent as Ebenezer Scrooge has, and that is that heart and kindness is more important than wealth.

“And therefore, Uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that [Christmas] has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!” 

“But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,' faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself.
Business!' cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. "Mankind was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The deals of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”  

“It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humour.”  

“For it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child Himself.”  

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!”

And I think the final quote from the book says more about why I love the book so much than any words I could come up with.

“And it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!” 

 

Re-Read Review 2017:

There was a time when I read A Christmas Carol annually but since starting my book blog it seems I that life just hasn't allowed me the time to read it yearly.  So I decided that I would make time this year to give it a read and its just as good as its always been.  I wish I could say we don't need to be reminded of what should be important to us at Christmastime but everyone is always so busy that the Christmas spirit doesn't stay with us the way it should.  Charles Dickens has a way of making us remember and I love him for it.  Merry Christmas everyone and if you aren't one to celebrate, try to remember that the true meaning of the story and the lessons Ebenezer Scrooge learns still rings true for you too and for every day: kindness and goodwill to your fellow man should never be far from your heart.

Re-Read Review 2019:

This book just never gets old.  Frankly, if there ever was a time we need to be reminded of what is truly important in life it's now.  With all the strife and ignorance and intolerance in the world, it's never wrong to be reminded of what Christmas is all about.  A Christmas Carol should be read throughout the year, not just during the holiday season.  The lessons of kindness, decency, and acceptance to our fellow man should be lived every day.  I don't mean to sound preachy or judgmental but Charles Dickens has a way of making the spirit of Christmas come alive in A Christmas Carol that often gets forgotten the other 364 days of the year.  Truth be told, not only does it remind us of the holiday spirit it's a pretty darn great ghost story too😉😉.

Re-Read Review 2020:

The only thing I want to add to my previous reviews is that 2020 needs A Christmas Carol more than ever.  We need to see the kindness all around more this year as there has been so much negativity, hatred, anger, and plain old fashioned heartbreak.  No matter what form you read, listen, watch, take the lessons the Ghosts of Christmas teach Ebenezer Scrooge to heart.  Charles Dickens may have had no idea what he was giving to the world or the impact it would have on humanity but for me the story never gets old and frankly I don't have to wait till Christmastime to enjoy it.  A true classic delightful gem.

RATING: 

Stave One
Marley's Ghost

Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge's name was good upon' Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, his sole mourner.

Scrooge never painted out Old Marley's name however. There it yet stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley He answered to both names. It was all the same to him.

Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, was Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner!

Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks, "My dear Scrooge, how are you? when will you come to see me?" No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his fife inquired the way to such and such a place, of Scrooge. Even the blindmen's dogs appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts; and then would wag their tails as though they said, "no eye at all is better than an evil eye, darkmaster!"

But what did Scrooge care!

Once upon a time — of all the good days in the year, upon a Christmas Eve-old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, bitMg foggy weather and the city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already.

The door of Scrooge's countinghouse was open that he might keel) his eye upon his clerk, who in a dismal litde cell beyond — a sort of tank-was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire., but the clerk's fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn't replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room; and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed.

"A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!" cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation Scrooge had of his approach.

"Bah!" said Scrooge, "Humbug!"'

"Christmas a humbug, uncle! You don't mean that, I am sure."

"I do. Out upon merry Christmas. What's Christmas time to you buta time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a yearolder, and not an hour ri cher; a time for balanci ing your books and having every item in 'em through a round dozen of months presented deadagainst you? If I had my will, every idiot who goes about with 'MerryChristmas,' on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, andburied with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!"

"Uncle!"

"Nephew! Keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it mine."

"Keep it! But you don't keep it."

"Let me leave it alone, then. Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!"

"There are many things from which I might have derived good, bywhich I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest. But I amsure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round-apart from the veneration due to its sacred origin, if anything belong' ingto it can be apart from that — as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitab1e, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of theyear, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-uphearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really werefellow-travellcrs to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound onother Journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"

The clerk in the tank involuntarily applauded.

"Let me hear another sound from you," said Scrooge, "and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation. You're quite a powerful speaker, sir," he added, turning to his nephew. "I wonder you don't go into Parliament."

"Don't be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us tomorrow."

Scrooge said that he would see him — yes, indeed he did. He went the whole length of the expression, and said that he would see him 'in that extremity first.

"But why?" cried Scrooge's nephew. "Why

"Why did you get married?"

"Because I fell in love."

"Because you fell in love!" growled Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. "Good afternoon!"

"Nay, uncle, but you never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?"

"Good afternoon."

"I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be friends?"

"Good afternoon."

"I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party. But I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humour to the last. So A Merry Christmas, uncle!"

Misanthropic miser Ebenezer Scrooge is haunted by his deceased business partner, Jacob Marley. Marley's ghost is followed by three more spirits from Christmases Past, Present, and Yet to Come. Each has a lesson Scrooge must learn.

Release Date: October 11, 1997

Release Time: 69 minutes

Director: Stan Phillips

Cast:

Tim Curry as Ebenezer Scrooge

Whoopi Goldberg as Ghost of Christmas Present

Michael York as Bob Cratchit

Ed Asner as Jacob Marley's Ghost

Frank Welker as Debit

Kath Soucie as Mrs. Cratchit, Ghost of Christmas Past and Fan

Jodi Benson as Belle

Sam Saletta as Boy Scrooge

Jarrad Kritzstein as Tiny Tim

1935  /  1938  /  1951

1970  /  1983  /  1988

1992  /  1997  /  1999

Charles Dickens

One of the grand masters of Victorian literature, Charles Dickens was born on February 7, 1812, in Landport, Portsea, England. He died in Kent on June 9, 1870. The second of eight children of a family continually plagued by debt, the young Dickens came to know not only hunger and privation,but also the horror of the infamous debtors' prison and the evils of child labor. A turn of fortune in the shape of a legacy brought release from the nightmare of prison and "slave" factories and afforded Dickens the opportunity of two years' formal schooling at Wellington House Academy. He worked as an attorney's clerk and newspaper reporter until his Sketches by Boz (1836) and The Pickwick Papers (1837) brought him the amazing and instant success that was to be his for the remainder of his life. In later years, the pressure of serial writing, editorial duties, lectures, and social commitments led to his separation from Catherine Hogarth after twenty-three years of marriage. It also hastened his death at the age of fifty-eight, when he was characteristically engaged in a multitude of work.

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🎅🎄⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine⏳🎄🎅: The Prairie Dog's Love Song by Eli Easton

Summary:

Clyde's Corner #1

Ben Rivers always was a showman. He won awards in 4-H and rodeo competitions from the time he could walk, and he’s happiest in the spotlight. So when he got the chance to be a star—in porn—he took it. He still loves Montana and everything about being a cowboy, but when news of his alternate identity leaks out, he figures he’s lost the town’s goodwill forever. Clyde’s Corner would never accept an openly gay cowboy, even a hometown boy born and bred.

Joshua Braintree always had the notion that he and his best friend’s kid brother, Ben, would end up together. Ben’s always been a diehard cowboy, just like him: they need the land and its freedom as much as they need air. So when Joshua learns Ben moved away from their small Montana town to be a porn star in Vegas, he can hardly believe it. He’s determined to finally declare himself and bring Ben home.

Despite his longtime crush on Joshua, Ben won’t be as easy to tame as Joshua’s “lost cause” horses. It will take a lot of heart and holiday spirit for Joshua to convince Ben that even old prairie dogs can learn new tricks in the name of love.

Original Review January 2015:
Sometimes novellas can be better if they were longer and sometimes they wouldn't benefit at all with extra.  This is one of those that would not be better if it was longer.  That might be a bit of an over guesstimation on my part but I seriously can't see this being better with more words.  How can one not fall in love with Joshua and Ben?  And what about Henry? So easy to hate him and he's only actually in a couple of scenes and mentioned in passing in a couple of others.  This is an absolutely perfect Christmas tale to add to my growing collection.

RATING: 

CHAPTER 1

Joshua Braintree stared at the laptop screen with a mix of shock, arousal, and stone-cold pissed. It was an emotional brew that might have been at home on, say, a badger that’d been lured by female badger scent only to find himself locked in a trap.

Joshua shut the lid of his laptop. Opened it. Shut it. Opened it. He punched the drawer of his desk, which did nothing for his hand, and not a hell of a lot for the drawer neither.

Opened it.

There, on the screen, was a video trailer featuring Ben For-God’s-Sake Rivers, his best friend’s little brother, naked, and doing things with a blond god who was hung to put some of Joshua’s bulls to shame. Damn if Joshua’s eyeballs didn’t wanna just plop right out onto the keyboard and maybe crawl around screaming for a bit, though what exactly they’d be screaming he couldn’t rightly say. It was a toss-up between Gimme more! and I need to kill somethin’! and Joshua Ellen Braintree, you goddamn blasted idiot of a fool!

He closed it.

His walkie-talkie buzzed, causing Joshua to jump off the seat of his chair a good inch, scramble to close the already closed laptop, and check in a panic for audio sound coming from the video, even though he’d turned the audio off ten minutes ago and the video wasn’t running anyhow.

Smoothing down his hair in an effort to calm himself, Joshua picked up the walkie-talkie.

“Yup,” he answered, sounding two octaves lower than usual.

“Boss, ’s that you?” It was Charlie.

“Yup.”

“Oh, okay. Listen, the kids have started showin’ up, so… ya comin’?”

“Ain’t Nora here?” Joshua grumbled, shirking his job for probably the first time in ten years.

“Well, yessir, she’s here, all right. Ya want I should tell her ya ain’t comin’? ’Cause that Samuels girl is pitchin’ a fit again, ’n’ the Reston boys are tryin’ to climb the fence ’n’—”

The fever that had taken over Joshua’s brain thanks to that damn video now faded to a dull, warmish ache. Charlie’s words pulled him back down to the real and the now and life as it was known on Muddy River Ranch. Joshua pushed a shaky hand through his long, straight-as-sin mess of hair. He grunted into the walkie-talkie, in an assenting sort of way, went to the door of his office to leave, came back, unplugged the damn laptop, and headed out to the stables.

 

It was mid-October, and the aspens around the stables were covered in leaves that twinkled and shone like gold coins in the sun. The sky was the deep blue that was just about Joshua’s favorite color in the whole wide world. But even the perfect fall day didn’t make him feel any better, ’specially not when the Reston twins were seeing who could bust a leg first by jumping off the corral fence. Nora was busy comforting Lily Samuels, who stood by the corral gently wailing. And Charlie was leading a couple of saddled horses out of the stables, probably in a bid to give Billy and Bobby something to do other than risk their dang fool necks.

Joshua stopped for a second, taking it in—the day, the ranch, the Montana mountains rising in the distance, and the downright miserable start to his Saturday riding class. The thought that hit him hard was Ben should be here. He’d have the Reston boys gigglin’ and followin’ him around like puppies in two seconds flat.

Which was a strange thought to have, because Ben had worked the riding class with Joshua for only a few months before he got “too busy,” and that was over two years ago. But Joshua felt Ben’s absence real hard all the same.

And then he realized that Ben never would be here like that, not ever again.

So he wasn’t in the best frame of mind as he strode up to Billy and Bobby, leaped over the corral fence, and grabbed each one of them with an arm around the waist. Joshua marched toward Charlie and the horses, his arms full of wriggling ten-year-old boys.

“Hey, Joshua!” Billy said cheerfully, going as pliant as an old hound under a belly rub.

“I’m gonna tell!” Bobby screamed, though what he’d tell wasn’t real clear. He struggled against Joshua’s iron-hard arm.

Joshua grunted and, reaching the horses, shoved Billy at Charlie and swung Bobby up onto the saddle himself. Bobby looked down, his mouth opened to complain some. Then he blinked at the expression on Joshua’s face.

“Okay,” Bobby said, suddenly meek as a lamb. “But can I please ride by myself? I ain’t no baby.”

Joshua’s gaze flickered down to the horse, Trisket. She was old and gentle and the look in her eyes told Joshua she wasn’t feeling anything but supremely lazy today. It was Bobby’s second lesson, and they’d already done the leading-him-around-the-arena thing.

Joshua took Bobby’s hand and placed it on the pommel, gripping it hard. “Hang on,” Joshua instructed. “And keep them reins slack. Just let ’er walk.”

“Yessir,” Bobby said politely.

Joshua let them go. Trisket placidly walked the perimeter of the arena, and Bobby didn’t pull on the reins. Joshua’s gaze fell back to Charlie, who was holding on to Dusty. Billy was seated in Dusty’s saddle.

“What’s the matter, Boss? Ya sick?” Charlie asked.

“Nope.”

“’Cause ya look a bit peaked. Yer mouth is all set in a line so ya cain’t hardly see yer lips a’tall. And yer sort of flushed like, on yer throat, and ya have these lines—”

“Charlie, I ain’t no heifer, and you ain’t doin’ no health check.” Joshua growled. “Take Billy round once, then let ’im go alone if he wants.”

Charlie grumbled in his cantankerous way. “Sure thing, Boss. Take care ya don’t get stung, what with that bee in yer bonnet.” He started leading Billy around the ring.

Joshua took a deep breath and turned to Nora and Lily. Nora had her hands on Lily’s shoulders now, Lily had stopped crying, and they were both looking at Joshua a bit warily, like they didn’t think he’d bite, but they weren’t entirely sure.

Joshua forced a smile and went over to them. He vaulted back over the corral fence.

“Mornin’, Sunshine,” Nora said sarcastically, looking at him with one eyebrow lifted in a question.

Joshua grunted a nonreply and squatted down on his haunches next to Lily.

“Ready?” Joshua asked the little girl.

She shook her blonde head, her big brown eyes dead serious. She reached out and snagged a fistful of Joshua’s shoulder-length brown hair. Joshua sighed inwardly. She was seven but looked a year younger. She was a fragile thing, and her folks had hoped the riding would be a confidence builder. But last week, at her first session, they hadn’t managed to actually get her on a horse.

“Let’s go find a friend,” Joshua said, carefully tugging Lily’s hand free from his hair—ouch—and then holding those harsh little digits to lead her inside the stables.

Nora followed. “Can we find a friend for you too?” she quipped enthusiastically. “’Cause you sure look like you could use one.” Joshua ignored her.

Joshua had known Nora since they were kids. She’d been a few years ahead of him and Chet in school, and then she’d gone off for four years to college. She came back and bought the town diner with some windfall or another. It kept her busy, but she still came to help with the kids every Saturday morning. When the days were long, she’d sometimes stop by for a trail ride after the diner closed. She said horses were one of the reasons she’d moved back to Clyde’s Corner, and she wasn’t gonna let her business keep her from enjoying them. She was large, blunt, and gregarious, and Joshua loved her to pieces. But sometimes she was a mite too smart and a load too honest.

“How ’bout this horse, honey?” Nora said, going over to the first stall. “This is Jasmine. She’s a real sweetie, just like you.”

Jasmine was an old Shetland. Her owner had wanted to get rid of her, and Joshua took her for just this reason, as the gentlest possible creature for timid new riders, but also because he had a hard time turning down any horse that was about to be put down.

Letting go of Joshua’s hand, Lily passed Nora and Jasmine without a second glance. She went directly to the third stall where a large white horse poked out his nose.

Nora gave Joshua a rueful look. “Women. They always like ’em big.”

Joshua snorted a laugh despite himself.

He went over to Lily. Valmont was one of his rehabilitation horses. Not only was he big, but he could be violent, and Joshua hadn’t worked it out of him yet.

“This is Valmont,” he told Lily. “He’s too big for you. Horses and riders need to sorta fit one other, like clothes. Jasmine’d fit you just right.”

Lily dug into Joshua’s leg with both hands. Her little fingers were surprisingly painful, like cat’s claws. She looked up at Valmont with big eyes.

“He don’ like me,” she said shakily, clearly meaning the horse.

Joshua blinked and frowned. “Uh—”

“I can’t ride him ’cause he don’ want me to.”

Valmont leaned his head down and sniffed at the strange little blonde thing curiously.

“Let’s go pet Jasmine,” Joshua tried, feeling a bit desperate. But Lily just clung to him and to that spot, like she was rooted deep in the ground somewhere, like maybe she was part oak tree.

“No! I wanna ride Valfront, but he don’ like me.”

Joshua looked at Nora helplessly. Outside, there was the slam of car doors as more parents dropped off their kids.

Good Lord, he just couldn’t handle this today, not today, when he barely had a grip on himself as it was.

It was kind of like that badger—the further he got from that video he’d just seen, the less the aroused part of his brain was fired up, and the more room he could devote to being just plain mad as hell. Despite the distractions of the horses and the kids, he felt it creeping up inside him like rising floodwater.

He was mad at the company that made those videos, for luring in gorgeous young boys. He was a mad at Ben for putting all his bits out there without, apparently, giving it a whole lotta thought. He was sure as hell mad at Henry Atkins, who’d leaked the news about the porn all over town like the low-belly snake in the grass that he was. But mostly, Joshua Braintree was spitting mad at himself.

He was mad at himself for waiting too damn long, for getting caught up in the ranch and not tending to a certain business that he should have been attending to. He was mad at himself for letting time slip by like a wolf in the night and steal a prize right out from under his nose while he was no way, no how paying attention. Instead, he’d been off doing numbers and working like a dog to get his horse business running after he took over his daddy’s ranch. He’d thought he had time. He’d thought Ben was still a boy.

Well, the video had cleared up that notion good and proper.

And Joshua was mad, too, for letting down Chet, his best friend, who was in Afghanistan doing a man’s work, and who should have been able to count on Joshua to keep his father and his little brother taken care of in the ways that mattered. And Joshua had fallen down big-time on that one.

Nora must have seen some of that in his face, because she gently pried Lily off his leg and gave him a worried smile.

“I swear, whatever’s eatin’ you sure has one hell of an appetite. I’ll take the little Missy Miss here. You go on and get the Carter kids goin’. They should be easy.”

Joshua grunted. He took a deep breath and turned to lead out two more horses that Charlie, bless him, had already saddled.

By some miracle, Joshua survived the morning class without either killing anyone or sticking a label marked “bona fide asshole” on his forehead. He spent the afternoon with the horses. He had three horses he was rehabilitating at the moment. They needed daily interaction to get used to him and used to the way things were gonna be. And they needed him to be calm and confident. Knowing that helped Joshua push down his own frustrations, for a few hours at least. And it always eased his mind to work with animals. They were so much simpler than people. They sure as heck didn’t do things like run off to Vegas to make porn.

But by the time the day was done and the sun was fading over the horizon, it dragged Joshua’s hard-won calm down with it like it was a daytime critter that hibernated in the dark.

So when Joshua was finally all alone in his house, and it was dark, he closed up the curtains in his office real tight, locked his office door, even though he lived alone, and dug up some earplugs he hadn’t used in two years. He went back to that Web site, Boys 2 Boys, and this time, instead of watching a preview, he gave them his credit card number, selecting a “one month only” plan. Then he watched every single video that Ben Rivers, aka “Caleb,” had ever made, starting with the first one two years ago.

Every one of them broke his heart a little more as he saw the changes in Ben, witnessed Ben’s first time with a guy caught on camera, his first kiss, first blowjob, first top, even his first bottom. He watched Ben’s expression as he took a man inside him for the first time (being Ben, he looked determined and sort of fascinated by a new challenge). He watched Ben grow in confidence, get fitter and tanner, become a star. And all of it was caught forever in Technicolor.

Those moments, those intimate moments, those firsts, were supposed to be Joshua’s, and they’d been stolen as surely as if cattle thieves had raided his pastures. That made him so angry and upset his teeth ached.

The videos also made him hard enough to drive fence posts.

He cried a little that night, a few old painful, rusty tears. And he came. Three times.

Eli Easton
Having been, at various times and under different names, a minister’s daughter, a computer programmer, a game designer, the author of paranormal mysteries, a fan fiction writer, and organic farmer, Eli has been a m/m romance author since 2013. She has over 30 books published.

Eli has loved romance since her teens and she particular admires writers who can combine literary merit, genuine humor, melting hotness, and eye-dabbing sweetness into one story. She promises to strive to achieve most of that most of the time. She currently lives on a farm in Pennsylvania with her husband, bulldogs, cows, a cat, and lots of groundhogs.

In romance, Eli is best known for her Christmas stories because she’s a total Christmas sap. These include “Blame it on the Mistletoe”, “Unwrapping Hank” and “Merry Christmas, Mr. Miggles”. Her “Howl at the Moon” series of paranormal romances featuring the town of Mad Creek and its dog shifters has been popular with readers. And her series of Amish-themed romances, Men of Lancaster County, has won genre awards.

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A Prairie Dog's Love Song #1

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Clyde's Corner Series

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🎅🎄Random Tales of Christmas 2025 Part 8🎄🎅

Random Tales of Christmas 2025

Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3  /  Part 4

Part 5  /  Part 6  /  Part 7  /  Part 8

Part 9  /  Part 10  /  Part 11  /  Part 12

Melting His Grumpy Heart by Ali Ryecart

Summary:

Gruff and grumpy meets sunshine and smiles. Stranded in a lonely farmhouse, sparks flare then soften as winter’s longest night draws them closer.

Trapped by the snow, can sunshine and a solstice sunrise melt the grump’s icy heart?

Alone in his isolated farmhouse, ex‑soldier Jake Whitby lives by three simple rules: no attachments, no complications, no risks. But when a blizzard strands Ru Parker on his doorstep, the grumpy recluse finds himself stuck with a sunshine storm in human form.

Jake resists the intrusion, but Ru’s everything Jake isn’t: warm, joyful, and armed with a smile that could melt more than ice.

Snowbound together, Jake’s distance thaws into decorating the farmhouse with winter greenery, snowball fights, and rescuing the wonky Christmas tree he’d banished to the attic. And when Jake quietly shares the ancient solstice sunrise he’s always honoured alone, Ru is there beside him, bringing new light to centuries-old tradition.

As charged glances and accidental touches turn into desire neither can resist, Jake realises his unexpected guest isn’t so unwelcome after all.

When the storm passes, Jake faces a stark choice: retreat to his lonely existence, or embrace the man who’s brought warmth, sunshine, and hope back into his life.

In the season of miracles, where Christmas cheer meets solstice light, will their love be strong enough to last beyond the thaw?

You’ll love this book if you like:

❄️ Snowed‑in, forced proximity romances

🌞 Grumpy/sunshine chemistry

🎄 Christmas setting with all the holiday magic

🌒 A touch of solstice tradition

❤️ Sweet slow burn with plenty of heat

✨ Guaranteed HEA to warm your heart

Twinkling Elf by Nic Starr

Summary:

Opposites attract when doing a good deed brings two friends together for Christmas.

When Micah returns to town and volunteers to run Santa’s workshop, he never expects his brother’s best friend to be working alongside him. It seems the time apart has done nothing to kill the crush he’s always had on Nicholas, and he’ll need to learn to live with it. Showing up each day in his silly elf costume is going to be torture.

Back home for the holidays, Nicholas gets roped into assisting at the kid’s play center, but it turns out being Santa’s photographer has its perks. He loves spending time with Micah, whose Christmas spirit is infectious and does strange things to Nicholas’ heart. Not to mention those adorable leggings!

The festive season, two friends, two good deeds, and the gift of love.

Twinkling Elf is a low-angst gay Christmas story featuring opposites attract, brother’s best friend, a long-time crush, with sexy times and a sweet ending. It’s a stand-alone story filled with Christmas spirit. It was part of the 2022 Rainbow Advent Calendar.

Original Review January 2025:

Like the other After Xmas Holiday Reads this season, it was hard to concentrate as much as I normally do as my mother was in hospital at the time and has since passed away which makes reviewing a bit difficult at the moment.  I'm not sure why I didn't read this back in 2023 but I got to it now and loved it.  Everything about the story was such a delight.  As much as I loved Micah and Nicholas, personally what really stood out was seeing the big brother give his blessing for his best friend to date his brother, too often authors use the friction between BFF and brother to interfere and create a roadblock but not in Twinkling Elf.  Very refreshing.  A sweet short novella that has the right blend of humor and heart that makes the reader smile, what more can you ask for?

RATING:

Love at Frost Sight by Charlie Novak

Summary:

Charlie Novak Christmas Collection

Sometimes Love Catches You Out Of Step

Convincing my agent to sign me up for the Come Dancing With Me Christmas special was the best decision I’ve made in years, especially when my partner turns out to be the show’s stunning ‘bad boy’, Nico.

I’m ready to put on my sequins and my dancing shoes, but first I need to figure out how to defrost Nico’s attitude towards me. He seems under the impression that as an ex-boyband superstar I’m going to be a diva, and not even some homemade gingerbread is helping!

But the more hours we spend together in training, the more we begin to connect. Nico might be prickly but he’s the first person who begins to see me as more than my past. And as things heat up on and off the dancefloor, I realise I don’t want to let Nico go.

Our connection is only supposed to be temporary, but can we find a way to make it last forever?

My Christmas Spirit by KC Wells

Summary:

I knew I had problems when I woke up in the middle of the night to find Mike Stubbins sitting at the foot of my bed, stark naked, still as gorgeous as every one of my memories of him.

So what’s the problem, I hear you cry? Gorgeous, naked man in my bedroom?

Well, there’s the not-so-small, highly significant detail that he died six years ago.

Yup. You read that right. And now he’s everywhere. I can’t even brush my teeth in peace. And did I mention that he never stops talking?

I’ve missed him like crazy, every day of the six years he’s been gone. And with Christmas coming, the memories are even more acute. But this is getting beyond a joke. Ignoring a naked guy is a pretty tough task, especially when I’m the only one who sees him.

So when he bops a complete stranger on the head with his dick in the middle of the coffee shop, I have to laugh. Anyone would, right?

Except… there’s a look on the guy’s face that tells me he felt that. But… how could he?

And now he’s looking at me like he’s expecting me to explain what just happened.

Either he’ll call for the guys with the straitjacket… or this will be one of the most interesting conversations I’ve ever had….

The Boys by BL Maxwell

Summary:

Syd Dufort is heartbroken when he discovers his fiancé has been cheating. Not wanting to wallow in front of his family for the holidays he decides to take the trip they’d planned as a honeymoon. Upon arriving in Iceland during the dark of winter, he immediately questions whether it was such a good idea.

Caleb Mies takes extra care to help the man he meets at the airport who is also staying at the remote hotel his family owns. Their family has a yearly tradition that’s not for the weak of heart, or those who choose evil deeds.

Caleb is drawn to Syd in ways he’s never experienced, while everything in Syd tells him to avoid the man who has shown him nothing but kindness.

Both men are hiding secrets that will be revealed during Yule. A dark holiday romance.

Melting His Grumpy Heart by Ali Ryecart

CHAPTER ONE

“Come on, come on, come on,” Ru urged through gritted teeth. “I’ll give you anything you want. An oil change, a new pine tree air freshener, a pair of fluffy dice. Only don’t give up on me now.”

The car inched along the narrow country lane, the rattling and grinding sounds growing louder. Ru gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles white. He should have got the car checked over, booked in a service… he should have done it all before he’d made the sudden, urgent, all-consuming decision to high tail it out of London. Not daring to stop to think, he’d chucked his bag on the back seat and kangaroo jumped down the busy city road to a background of the blaring horns of other drivers he’d cut up, and colourful invective from pedestrians who’d been forced to jump out of his way. Ru was surprised he even remembered how to drive, because who needed a car in the middle of London?

Ru threw a glance at the digital clock on the dashboard. It was only just gone five in the evening but his eyes stung and itched with tiredness. He’d set off just before lunch time, which felt like eons ago, only wanting to get away from the rubble of his wreck of a life and not pretend Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year.

Bollocks to that.

“Where the hell am I?” He peered into the darkness beyond the narrow beam of his headlights. Or headlight. The other one had blinked and died near some little town he’d barely heard of.

Tall, spindly hedges pressed in on either side of the car, looming and dark. Ages back, he’d passed a sign that welcomed him to Devon, Home of the Cream Tea, and had followed the satnav directions onto roads that had grown smaller and narrower, until they became lanes, until the satnav had shut down and refused to work. Just like his car was threatening to do.

“Thank god,” he breathed, as the glare of his one working headlight picked out a signpost, leaning at a drunken angle. Relief rushed through him. Bobblecombe. A tiny village, where the cottage was waiting for him. He’d hunker down and lick his wounds, which after almost six months had no right to still feel so raw and so, so, so damn, fucking humiliating, and work out how he was going to build a new version of the life he’d naively thought of as a fuzzy edged fairy tale and brimming with sunshine, a life that had instead turned into a very public nightmare.

“Screw you, Cooper. I hope your very tiny, very ugly willy drops off.”

Ru slammed his foot on the brake. The car skidded to a screeching halt. He squinted up at the sign. “Fourteen miles?” he wailed.

Ru glanced around the interior of the car. Would it make it? At best it was touch and go. He wrinkled his nose. Was that a burning rubber smell? Ru breathed deep to push down on the worry that teetered on the edge of panic. The car had to make it, because in the middle of nowhere, in the black of night, there was no Plan B. Jesus, there had barely been a Plan A. Grinding the gears, wincing at the angry squeals, he crept along a lane that was even tighter than the one he’d emerged from.

“You can do it, you can,” he muttered, urging the car on through sheer will and determination. He sniffed again, sure the burning smell was getting worse. Maybe he should have subscribed to one of the big breakdown companies. Maybe he should have bought road tax and insurance. Maybe he should have caught the train and then hired a car in Exeter.

“Maybe I should have bloody well thought what I was doing.”

The car grunted in agreement, and ground to a halt.

“No! No, no, no, no no!” Ru smashed his palms against the steering wheel, over and over, before slumping forward and pressing his forehead into the worn, rubbery covering. “We’re so close. Only a few miles to go. Please don’t do this to me. Please.”

Ru didn’t care that he sounded pathetic, dejected, and defeated, because they were exactly what he was. He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

Reboot. He had to reboot the engine. It’s what you did with laptops and tellies when they played up. Turn them off, then on again, throwing in a thump for good measure. The same principle had to work with cars… Sucking in a long, deep breath and holding it tight, as though that might somehow help, Ru switched off the ignition, counted to ten, and turned the key.

The car coughed into what passed for life. Ru exhaled, noisy and relieved, and his fast and jumpy pulse calmed. The engine protested as he tried to move off in fourth, the gears complaining as he wrangled the sticky gear stick into first.

Setting off at a crawl, Ru peered into the narrow, puny tunnel of light ahead of him. Another fork in the lane, and a signpost that was leaning so far it was almost on the ground. Bobblecombe was… the left turn? It looked like it, but… Oh, god, give me a break, please…

Ru made his decision.

The car grumbled.

And then it began to snow.

Twinkling Elf by Nic Starr

Chapter One

Christmas was a magical time of the year.

Micah loved every minute of the holiday season from the gift shopping, to the decorating, to the festivities. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he danced around his bedroom to the carol blasting from the speaker on top of the chest of drawers. He didn’t need the words of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” to make sure he had a good time—he had Christmas down pat and a great holiday season was guaranteed. Well, maybe not guaranteed, because having someone to share it with would be the icing on the cake, but he was determined not to let his single status ruin his plans, especially now he’d moved back to his hometown for a fresh start.

He put away the last of the clean clothes he’d been folding as the dulcet tones of Sam Smith transitioned to the Biebs singing about mistletoe. He smiled with satisfaction at the immaculate state of the room; laundry all done, fresh sheets on the bed, and not a speck of dust in sight thanks to the hour of dusting and vacuuming he’d put in earlier that day. His mom would be so proud after the “tidy house leads to tidy minds” speech she’d given earlier in the week when she’d popped around unannounced and seen the state of his small apartment. He supposed she had a point, as he’d definitely been slow to unpack and settle in. But Christmas provided excellent motivation—after all, he couldn’t decorate a place that looked like a bomb had hit. Now the apartment was spic and span and all ready for him to tackle the box of decorations his mom had dropped off during her visit. He took one last look at the neat row of clothes before shutting the closet door. Yep, a reward was definitely in order.

Still smiling, he headed to the kitchen to look for a snack and soon had cheese, fruit, and crackers laid out on the counter. The doorbell interrupted his food preparation. Damn! He popped a grape into his mouth and headed for the door. His face fell when he opened it.

“Chad. If you’re here to give me another one of your lectures—”

“Relax,” Chad said, pushing past. “I’m not here about that.”

Micah shut the door and followed him. “I told you I’m going to look for a job after Christmas. I’ve got enough to tide me over until the new year and it’s not like a lot of companies are advertising during the holiday season.”

“I know—Whoa!” Chad stopped and Micah ran into the back of him. “What happened here?” he asked, looking around the living room.

Micah rolled his eyes. He stepped around him and headed back to the kitchen. “I do have some housekeeping skills, you know.”

“I’m just glad to see you settling in.” Chad perched himself on a stool at the counter and reached for a grape. “Anyway, I’m here to ask a favor.”

“What is it?” Micah started cutting the cheddar into cubes. “It better not be anything that involves covering for your sorry ass again.” The last time he’d done a favor for his school teacher brother, he’d ended up coaching the under 10’s baseball team for half the season and team sports were definitely not his forte.

Chad chuckled. “Not this time. It’s actually more of a favor for Carol.”

“Carol? As in Carol Mathers?” Micah stopped chopping and looked up. Carol was the mom of Chad’s best friend, Nicholas. Nicholas, whose very name still had the power to send a wave of excitement through him.

Chad snagged a cube of cheese. “You know how she owns the kids’ play center at the mall and they do the Santa’s workshop thing each year?”

“Sure.” The Christmas-themed workshop was the place every kid in town went to get their obligatory yearly photo with Santa and tell him the contents of their gift list.

“Well, the last couple of years, Carol’s nephew has been the organizer. You know, the one to take the payments, corral the kids, hand out the photos, that sort of thing. However, this year he’s pissed off to Hawaii without any warning and she’s at her wit’s end.”

“You want me to run Santa’s workshop?”

“Yeah. It’s perfect, right? You love Christmas, you’re not working at the moment, and Carol is desperate. Plus, you won’t be doing it by yourself. There’s the photographer, and Santa, of course.”

“Ugh. I’m a graphic artist, not a child care worker,” Micah said.

“But Carol.” Chad made puppy dog eyes.

Micah frowned. “What if I had plans?”

“But Christmas.” Chad fluttered his eyes again. “Just think of all those cute little kids and how disappointed they’d be if they couldn’t sit on Santa’s knee and tell him all about what they wanted for Christmas.”

“You’re pulling the ‘do-it-for-the-kids’ card on me again?”

Chad grinned. “Only if it’s working. Is it working?”

Micah looked to the ceiling. “Heaven help me.” He turned back to his brother. “When do they need me to be there?”

 

Nicholas hurried through the mall, darting around shoppers who seemed determined to get in his way. C’mon people, spacial awareness! Although it wasn’t really surprising it was so busy given Christmas was only a few weeks away.

He took the direct route to the play center, coming to a halt as soon as the sign came in to view. Immediately outside the entrance, in a large area of the foyer, stood the fenced in area that was Santa’s Wonderland. Huge, decorated Christmas trees stood on either side of a wide, ornate, golden throne. A red carpet led to the throne, the sides of the pathway lined with thigh-high statues of reindeer interspersed with dancing elves. It was a riot of color and twinkling fairy lights and totally over the top—very much like his mom.

“Darling, you’re here.”

Nicholas turned at the sound of his mom’s voice. “Jeez, you’d think you haven’t seen me for months,” he said as she embraced him. The sleeves of her kaftan flapped as she enveloped him in a colorful hug.

She gripped his upper arms and stepped back to look at his face. “It feels like months, you naughty boy. You promised you’d visit more often.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but chuckle. “I was here for Thanksgiving. And you’ve got me until the new year. I’m not expected back at the office until the second week of January, so that should make you happy.”

“I’m happy you’re here, but it would make me even happier to hear you’re moving home for good.”

“Mom, we’ve spoken about this before—”

She raised a hand to his cheek. “I know, darling, but you said your current job bored you, and I know how much you love landscape photography, and they say a change is as good as a holiday.”

“Mom—”

“Oh, let me dream.” She patted his cheek, bangles jingling. “Anyway, you’re here now, so let’s just enjoy our time together. What plans do you have? Are you and Chad still heading out to the State Park?”

“Yeah, we’re hoping to spend a few days at a cabin belonging to a friend of Chad’s.”

“It’ll be nice for you boys to get away. Forgive me for being selfish, but I’m glad it’s only for a few days.” She hooked her arm into his elbow, and they started toward the main doors of the play center. “While you’re here, I’m going to spoil my baby with some home-cooked meals. Unfortunately, it’s one of the busiest times of the year, so you’ll have to entertain yourself during the day.”

Nicholas patted his mom’s arm. “I’m sure I’ll find enough to do to keep me occupied. Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, but secretly hoping she said no. To be honest, he was looking forward to the downtime away from the busy office and back-to-back assignments.

“Thank you, darling. If you’d asked yesterday, I would have said yes, but Chad came to the rescue. He’s asked someone to help with Santa’s workshop when it opens tomorrow, so crisis averted.”

“Doesn’t Danny usually work over the holidays doing that?”

“Oh, don’t get me started on Danny. Your cousin decided that sea and surf was more important than the job he’s done every Christmas since he was old enough to earn a wage.”

Nicholas laughed. “He’s probably had enough of all the ho ho ho. Give the kid a break.”

She flapped a hand. “Pfft. I’m not upset that he wants to do something else, however a bit of notice would have been nice. But that’s enough of my problems, you’re here for a vacation not to listen to me moan.”

They pushed through the doors of the play center to be greeted by the sound of carols piped through the large room and the shouts of excited kids. His mom greeted a few of the kids, obviously regulars, and she was clearly in her element. He smiled at her happiness, grateful she had her business to keep her occupied and happy.

Love at Frost Sight by Charlie Novak

Nico glanced at me, his expression cooling. “You must be my partner?”

“Yes,” I said, stepping closer, unsure if I should go in for a hug or a handshake. On the reveal videos they did for the main series, there were always hugs and smiles and excited screams, but that definitely wasn’t the case here. I ended up holding out my hand awkwardly as I added, “I’m Toby.” 

“Nico.” He took my hand and shook it briefly, but that was enough for me. His grip was warm and firm, and my brain casually reminded me those hands were going to be holding mine with increasing regularity. 

In a ballroom hold. Obviously.

Not for any other reason. 

Given the way he was looking at me, it really would only be in hold—with one hand on my back and the other hand in mine. And even then I doubted it would be unless he had to.

No, Nico was a professional. He was going to do whatever he needed to teach me, and I was going to be a model student. After all, I’d begged and pleaded to be on the show, so I had to do a good job. Otherwise, Malcolm was never going to let me pick my own projects again. 

“Nice to meet you,” I said, offering him the most winning smile I had in my armoury. “I’m very excited for this.”

“Yeah. It should be fun.” 

“I don’t have a lot of formal dance training, but I’ve done choreographed routines before. For music videos and when we were on tour.” 

He nodded. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

For God’s sake, it was like talking to a brick wall. A frosty one. I really didn’t want to think he was an arsehole, but if the shoe fitted…

My Christmas Spirit by KC Wells

Chapter One

Twenty Days to Christmas 

Ever woken up in the middle of the night, and you just know something isn’t right? It’s dark, you can’t see a damn thing, but there’s this feeling you can’t get rid of, a feeling of not being alone. What’s the first thing you do? 

Right. You switch on the light. 

So I did just that. I reached over, trying not to knock my glass of water onto my phone—yeah, been there, done that—and clicked on my bedside lamp. I blinked a couple of times to become accustomed to the light, before sitting up to take a look around my bedroom. Everything seemed norm— 

Fuck. Mike was sitting at the foot of my bed, smiling. And naked. 

I did what any sane person would do. I pinched myself, then I closed my eyes and waited a few seconds. Cautiously I opened them and— 

Fuck. He was still there. 

Then I got it. I was dreaming. But God, it felt so real. 

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” 

It was Mike’s voice. Not that this was the first time I’d dreamed of him. The first couple of years after he died, there’d been a lot of dreams.

Never one like this though. For one thing, the only naked dreams I’d had were of the two of us between the sheets. Mike sitting cross-legged, hands clasped, his elbows on his knees? This was a new one. 

Mike’s rich chuckle was exactly as I remembered it. “You’re not dreaming, sweetheart.” 

“Sure,” I said. “In which case, I’m talking to a ghost.” And didn’t that thought send a shiver down my back? Not to mention icy fingers trailing over my skin, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. 

Mike simply nodded. 

I took a deep breath. “I don’t believe in ghosts.” 

This wasn’t fair. Why my subconscious had chosen to torture me like this, I had no idea. I closed my eyes again, squeezing them tight shut. This time, he’d be gone. 

When a cool, gentle hand touched my shoulder, I almost leaped out of my skin. I opened my eyes, and Mike was standing beside me, and… 

Oh dear God. I could smell him. The same familiar scent that had clung to his pillowcase. I’d put off washing it for so long, desperate to hold onto a part of him. I wanted to inhale him, to fill myself with him. I gazed at his body, as toned as I remembered, not a hair on that smooth, wide chest, his abs still as perfect as the day he— 

This was not fucking fair.

“Do they have a gym where you are?” I demanded, more harshly than I intended, but I was pissed off. I didn’t ask to be tortured with dreams of Mike. Not after six years. And certainly not with him looking so… perfect. Even his dick was as I remembered it. He used to call it his torpedo, for obvious reasons. That thing was lethal. 

“I take it I still look good.” Mike preened, flexing, his muscles bulging. 

That did it. Despite my initial fear, I started laughing. “Still as vain as ever, I see.” 

He narrowed his gaze. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to look your best.” He peered closely at me. “You haven’t changed much. Your beard’s fuller, and you’ve let your hair grow longer on top. And you’re still hot.” He grasped his dick and smacked it against his palm. “I’d do you,” he added with a grin. “If I was allowed to, which I’m not.” 

I almost choked. “Gee, thanks.” 

If this wasn’t a dream, then what the hell was he doing here? I figured the obvious solution was to ask. 

“Mike… Not that I’m not delighted to see you…” Except ‘delighted’ was the wrong word. Shocked? Amazed? None of them came close. What surprised me was that I was no longer afraid. Ghost or not, I had nothing to fear from Mike. “What are you doing here?”

“What happened to being delighted to see me?” That grin hadn’t faded. “Aren’t I allowed to pop in on a visit?” He rolled his eyes. “At least this time I get to speak to you.” 

“This time? There have been others?” 

His expression softened. “Every time you dreamed of me.” 

That brought a lump to my throat, and I swallowed hard. I gestured to his body, his erect dick that was so difficult to ignore. “And why the lack of clothing?” I rolled my eyes. “For God’s sake, stop pointing that thing at me.” 

He snorted. “They said I could come back anyway I liked.” Mike’s eyes gleamed. “I chose naked.” 

They? Not that I was about to inquire further. “Okay, so you were just passing through and you thought you’d drop in. Why now? It’s been six years.” 

Mike studied me in silence for a moment, then sat at the foot of the bed. “I’ve been taking a look around the flat. It looks a little different.” 

“I refer you to my last remark. It’s been six years.” Some part of my brain was having severe difficulty coping with the fact that I was talking to a dead guy. And there was still a tiny part of me that was certain this was a dream. 

“Andy, Christmas is in three weeks’ time. Not that you’d know it, looking at this place. No cards up. No tree. In fact, the apartment looks like Ebenezer Scrooge lives here.”

“Hey!” I gave him an indignant stare. “When did I ever put up a tree before the 13th of December?” 

Mike waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Twelve days before, and it has to be down by twelfth night.” 

And so it had always been, except for once. Not that I was about to go there. 

He cocked his head to one side. “You can’t bullshit me, Andy. The tree ornaments are still in the box in the garage. You haven’t been near Garretts. You know, that place you always got your tree from.” 

I blinked. “Have you been watching me? Because that doesn’t sound like I was dreaming at the time.” 

Mike snorted again. “Sweetheart, I’ll let you in on a secret. You know that favourite film of yours, Dogma? When Rufus says that all the dead do is watch the living? He nailed it.” 

I widened my gaze. “Oh, now there’s a creepy thought.” “

And you’re being evasive.” Mike speared me with an intense gaze. “You were a Christmas nut. Decorations, films, those cheesy Christmas songs on the radio, carol concerts, turning on the Christmas lights in London…” 

I didn’t want to talk about this.

“So, is this a fleeting visit?” The joy I’d experienced at seeing him again had faded into a sharp reminder of the pain of losing him. A pain I thought I’d gotten used to. Apparently not. 

Mike got up off the bed. “I’m going to be around for a while. I’m not done yet.” There was something in his voice that troubled me. Mike had always been such a carefree, laid-back soul. Nothing ever got to him. This Mike sounded like a grown-up. 

It took dying to mature him? Now there was a strange thought. 

“So you are here for a purpose?” 

Mike nodded. 

“Care to share it with me?” 

“Eventually. Right now, you need to get some sleep. You’ve got work in the morning.” And before I could say a word, he faded from view. No sound to accompany him, just a gentle fadeout, leaving me alone in my room. 

I stared at the spot where he’d stood. Part of me knew why my brain had chosen to inflict me with such a hallucination at this time. The following day would be six years since I got that damned phone call. It was one of those days that I didn’t need to keep marked on a calendar. 

This one would be forever etched in my memory.

Six years ago 

I smiled to myself, as I liberally added tinsel to the tree branches. He is going to love this. Mike was on his way home from a business course, three days stuck in Oxford. I normally waited until 12 days before Christmas to put up the Christmas tree, but he’d sounded so pissed off on the phone that I wanted to surprise him. I’d even found our new Christmas decoration, and I couldn’t wait for him to see it. It was kind of a tradition. The year we got together, we’d gone shopping for a new tree ornament. The following Christmas, we did the same. Just one new thing. And here we were, five years since he’d moved in, and it still felt fresh and new. 

I glanced at the clock. Mike had taken the decision to drive to the course, after checking up on the train times and discovering it would not be as straightforward as he thought. December was a shit time for the rail company to strike. Of course, the sudden snowfall would make life more interesting, but that was typical of life in the UK. A couple of inches of snow, and it made the news. 

My phone warbled on the coffee table, I picked it up, smiling at Mike’s name. I swiped a finger across the screen to answer. “Where are you? You must be almost home by now.” 

There was silence for a moment, then the distinctive noise of a throat clearing. “This is Sergeant Paul Owens of the Thames Valley police.” 

My heart stuttered. “Oh really?”

“You’re acquainted with Mike Stubbins?” 

Then I got it. “This is some friend of Mike’s from the course, isn’t it? He’s put you up to this. Well, put Mike on the phone. This isn’t funny.” Except… what was he doing with Mike’s phone, if Mike was driving back to me? 

There was another brief silence. “Sir, I’m calling from the John Radcliffe hospital in Oxford. There was an accident this evening.” 

Oh my God.  My heart started hammering. “A traffic accident? Is Mike okay?” I haven’t seen or heard any news of a pileup on the TV. 

“I’m sorry to have to tell you, but Mr. Stubbins apparently had a heart attack while driving, and lost control of the car. He managed to steer it onto the hard shoulder, but ended up hitting the barriers. He was taken to the hospital, but they weren’t able to save him. He’s…” 

Enough. The memory was still fresh. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. 

I clicked off the light, pulled the duvet up over my shoulders, and settled back to sleep. 

Except sleep proved pretty elusive. I closed my eyes, and there was Mike. 

Why did you come back?

Unless it had all been a figment of my imagination. I knew which of the two options I preferred. I grabbed a pillow, wrapped my arms around it, and buried my face in it. The tears I thought long gone were back, soaking into the fabric. 

“Mike,” I whispered into the soft cotton. “Why did you come back?”

The Boys by BL Maxwell

One

Syd

After landing at the airport in Reykjavik, Iceland, I was exhausted and still needed to figure out how to get to my hotel. “You’ll need to get a ticket for the airport bus to take you to the bus station where you’ll board another bus that will take you downtown. There, you’ll need to get the shuttle that will take you to your hotel,” a man at an information booth told me. I tried to focus on his words but so much had happened the past three days that I was struggling.

He waited for me to acknowledge what he’d said, but I just couldn’t. “Here, let me see your phone.” I handed it to him, and he tapped at something. I looked around and wondered if this had really been a good idea. This was meant to be a honeymoon with my husband, but since he’d decided I wasn’t what he wanted, and the fact he’d been fucking his coworker for months, I was now single. “Sir?”

“Oh sorry, it was a long flight.”

“No problem. I’ve opened the site where you can purchase your ticket. The bus will be out front momentarily, so get your luggage then wait out there.” He spoke slowly and watched as I did what he’d instructed me to do. When the ticket was confirmed, I looked up into his eyes that were filled with concern. “Everything good?”

“I have the ticket. Thank you. My husb—someone else made all the plans but I ended up going alone and they didn’t share the information. So, I’m on my own and a little out of sorts.” I hadn’t meant to say any of that, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself. In one moment, my whole life had changed, and I hadn’t had time to process it. Not even the ten-hour flight was long enough for that.

“Good luck, sir, it’s that way to pick up your luggage.” He pointed at a sign with an arrow and waited for me to acknowledge it.

“Thank you,” I said, hiked my backpack up on my shoulder, and walked in the direction he’d indicated. I’d flown on my own many times, but there was a sadness I couldn’t shake as I walked down the halls of the airport, farther away from home than I’d ever been.

After following everyone else to the luggage claim, I stood and waited for my bag to show up as more and more people gathered to wait. My nerves were strung tight as I remembered finding out that my relationship with Michael had all been a lie. “Excuse me.” A man bumped into me as he rushed forward to get his bag off the conveyor belt.

“Oh, sorry,” I said and tried to concentrate on what was happening around me. My bag finally appeared, and I lifted it off then followed the directions I’d been given and waited out in front of the airport. The wind whipped around me with a cold bite, and I was thankful I’d researched enough to know how cold it would be here as I took a stocking hat out of my backpack and pulled it over my ears. It was dark out and I was reminded how Iceland was now in their darkest time of year, when each night lasted twenty-three hours, and the sun was never bright enough for daylight to break through the gloom.

“Merry Christmas,” the bus driver greeted as he opened the doors and waited for everyone to board. I took a seat near the front and the guy from earlier walked past me as he found a seat toward the back. He was about my age, and I wondered how he’d ended up here alone or if he lived here and was returning.

I was lost in thought as we drove along a paved road that seemed to lead to nowhere. There were a handful of lights in the distance but other than that there wasn’t much to see around us. A few people chatted but thankfully most were quiet, it had been a long day already and I still had another bus ride to my final destination. After getting off the first bus and onto the second one, we were finally close enough to the city of Reykjavik to see houses and businesses. Everything was decorated with Christmas lights brightening the gloom a little.

As we drove from hotel to hotel the ocean came into view, and I shivered at how cold it must be. Finally, there were only a few passengers left, one of them being the man from the airport.

“Okay, folks, this is where you’ll be getting off. If you’re catching a shuttle to one of the hotels out of town, they’ll meet you here. Be sure to check your email for any updates to the schedule,” the bus driver said before he opened the door and helped everyone off with their belongings.

One couple collected their luggage and pulled it along the street away from us, while the bus drove off down the street. I stood and watched it for a moment before taking hold of the handle of my suitcase and looking around. There wasn’t much nearby besides hotels and the bay. “I’m going to wait at a food hall down the way. You’re welcome to join me if you want to wait for the shuttle there,” the guy from the bus said. He was tall and thin with dark brown hair that peeked out from under his woolen hat. His eyes were blue, the kind of unforgettable blue that reminded me of the bluest blue of an iceberg. There was also a coldness there that disappeared when he smiled.

“That would be great. Thank you,” I said and the two of us walked along the street.

“My name is Caleb,” he said, and held out his hand. “Caleb Mies.”

I readjusted my bag to grip his offered hand. “Syd Dufort.”

His brow furrowed and he hesitated for a moment before releasing my hand. “So, what brings you all the way to Iceland?” he asked.

“I was supposed to be on my honeymoon,” I said, and stopped myself. It was still so new and so raw it was hard to think about it let alone say it out loud, although I felt like I also couldn’t stop myself saying it.

“Is your wife meeting you here?”

“Husband, and no, we didn’t get married. He cheated on me, and I called it off.” My eyes prickled with tears, and I bit my tongue to avoid crying in front of a stranger. Fucking Michael.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said and turned to face me. “So, you came here alone?”

“Yes, we’d already paid for it, and I didn’t want it to go to waste. Plus, I wanted to show him I don’t need him for anything.”

“Did you show him?” he asked.

I looked down at the cold ground before continuing in the direction Caleb was leading us. “I don’t know, I cut off all contact after I caught him in our bed with another man.” Visions of it flashed across my memory but where a few days ago there was pain, now I realized there was also anger. A strange look crossed his face before he turned away.

“Let’s get something to eat, then we can catch the shuttle bus to the hotel,” he said and started walking again.

“Thank you, I wasn’t sure where to go from where we were dropped off.”

“Don’t worry, I know exactly where we are,” he said.

“Have you been here before?”

“I’m originally from here, just home for the holidays,” he said and kept walking.

“Is it always this dark?” It was a little before two in the afternoon, but it felt darker than it had been when I arrived a short time ago.

“Yes, this time of year are the darkest days,” he said, and a strange expression crossed his features again. This time anticipation and glee but with a sinister edge.

Ali Ryecart

I used to tell my stories to myself, now I tell them to the world…

The stories I only ever told to myself took place in a world where it was boy meets boy, where best friends became more, where the hero didn’t save the damsel but the hot guy he’d been secretly crushing on.

I wanted to read those stories. I craved to read those stories. But those stories weren’t out there. Or that’s what I thought… Until one Christmas, when I unwrapped a shiny new e-reader. All it took was a few clicks, and my world changed forever.

I found my tribe.

But there is life outside of MM & gay romantic fiction in all its configurations. Allegedly.

When I’m forced to switch off the trusty, faithful word machine, there’s a husband to feed and talk to, pubs to drink in, and cake to eat. I love to do all those things and more, before I rush back to write all the words.

I’m a Londoner, born and bred and even though I now live just outside of the big bad city, I’m close enough to hop on a train so I can get my regular metropolitan fix.

Nic Starr
Nic Starr lives in Australia where she tries to squeeze as much into her busy life as possible. Balancing the demands of a corporate career with raising a family and writing can be challenging but she wouldn't give it up for the world.

Always a reader, the lure of m/m romance was strong and she devoured hundreds of wonderful m/m romance books before eventually realising she had some stories of her own that needed to be told!

When not writing or reading, she loves to spend time with her family-an understanding husband and two beautiful daughters-and is often found indulging in her love of cooking and planning her dream home in the country.

You can find Nic on Facebook, Twitter and her blog. She'd love it if you stopped by to say hi.

Charlie Novak

Charlie lives in England with her husband and two cheeky dogs. She spends most of her days wrangling other people’s words in her day job and then trying to force her own onto the page in the evening.

She loves cute stories with a healthy dollop of fluff, plenty of delicious sex, and happily ever afters — because the world needs more of them. 

Charlie has very little spare time, but what she does have she fills with baking, Dungeons and Dragons, reading and many other nerdy pursuits. She also thinks that everyone should have at least one favourite dinosaur…

You can find her at charlienovak.com where you can also sign up for her newsletter, on Twitter and Instagram as @charlienwrites and you can join her Facebook reader group Charlie's Angels for cover reveals, sneak peaks and general book shenanigans!

KC Wells

K.C. Wells lives on an island off the south coast of the UK, surrounded by natural beauty. She writes about men who love men, and can’t even contemplate a life that doesn’t include writing.

The rainbow rose tattoo on her back with the words 'Love is Love' and 'Love Wins' is her way of hoisting a flag. She plans to be writing about men in love - be it sweet and slow, hot or kinky - for a long while to come.

BL Maxwell

BL Maxwell grew up in a small town listening to her grandfather spin tales about his childhood. Later she became an avid reader and after a certain vampire series she became obsessed with fanfiction. She soon discovered Slash fanfiction and later discovered the MM genre and was hooked.

Many years later, she decided to take the plunge and write down some of the stories that seem to run through her head late at night when she’s trying to sleep.

Ali Ryecart

FACEBOOK  /  FB FRIEND  /  WEBSITE

NEWSLETTER  /  INSTAGRAM

AUDIBLE  /  BOOKBUB  /  iTUNES

FB GROUP  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS 

EMAIL: aliryecart@ryecartauthor

Nic Starr

FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  FB FRIEND

WEBSITE  /  NEWSLETTER  /  YOUTUBE

BLUESKY  /  PINTEREST  /  FB GROUP

B&N  /  AUDIBLE  /  TIKTOK  /  LINK BIO

QUEEROMANCE INK  /  BOOKBUB

INSTAGRAM  /  SMASHWORDS  /  KOBO

iTUNES  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS

EMAIL: nicstar000@gmail.com

Charlie Novak

FACEBOOK  /  BLUESKY  /  TWITTER

FB FRIEND  /  WEBSITE  /  NEWSLETTER

KOBO  /  AUDIBLE  /  AUDIOBOOKS

CHIRP  /  INSTAGRAM  /  FB GROUP

PATREON  /  TIKTOK  /  LINKTREE  /  B&N

BOOKBUB  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS

EMAIL: charlie@charlienovak.com

KC Wells

FACEBOOK  /  BLUESKY  /  FB FRIEND

WEBSITE  /  NEWSLETTER

iTUNES  /  AUDIBLE  /  GOOGLE PLAY

INSTAGRAM  /  SMASHWORDS

PINTEREST  /  AUDIOBOOKS  /  CHIRP

FB GROUP  /  B&N  /  KOBO

BOOKBUB  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS

EMAIL: k.c.wells@btinternet.com

BL Maxwell

FACEBOOK  /  BLUESKY  /  FB BRIEND

WEBSITE  /  BLOG  /  KOBO

NEWSLETTER  /  B&N

INSTAGRAM  /  TIK TOK  /  BOOKBUB

FB GROUP  /  PINTEREST  /  AUDIBLE

SMART BIO  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS

Melting His Grumpy Heart by Ali Ryecart

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK

WEBSITE  /  GOODREADS TBR

Twinkling Elf by Nic Starr

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK

WEBSITE  /  GOODREADS TBR

Love at Frost Sight by Charlie Novak

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

My Christmas Spirit by KC Wells

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK

WEBSITE  /  GOODREADS TBR

The Boys by BL Maxwell

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK

AUDIBLE  /  GOODREADS TBR