Release Blitz: Snow Globes by Ava Kelly #LGBTQ #holidayromance #contemporaryromance #interracial @ninestarpress @GoIndiMarketing

 

 

Title: Snow Globes

Series: Snow Globes Bundle, Books 1-4 and Epilogue

Author: Ava Kelly

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/16/2021

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 61400

Genre: Contemporary Holiday, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, gay, holiday, Christmas, interracial/intercult., kids, teacher, sweet, family drama, established couple, pansexual, trans, grief, lesbian, family, traditions, foster care, middle school, found family

Add to Goodreads

Description

Based around the holidays, the Snow Globes series follows a family as it comes together over four winters. Daniel, an elementary school teacher with a big heart and a collection of snow globes to match his travels, longs for a place to belong. When a snowstorm strands him in the home of Jeff and his daughter, Abby, Daniel wonders if this could be the family he yearns for. Out of misfortune, can a wish come true?

Over time, Daniel, Jeff, and Abby’s family grows. After years of self-enforced exile, Abby’s biological father Nick returns to claim his place in his family. Jeff’s friend Amber gains a girlfriend, and new members, twins Leon and Sara, are welcomed into the fold. When ten-year-old Ben, Abby’s bestie, is suddenly in need of a home, relationships are strained. Happiness, and what it means for each of them, needs to be redefined. But will it make them stronger?

With each holiday they share together, more and more traditions are added to the celebrations in this multicultural group. In the new series epilogue, Abby and Ben face an adventure of their own, and we take a peek into the future.

Excerpt

Snow Globes
Ava Kelly © 2021
All Rights Reserved

The hallway was silent around them. Across from where they were sitting, at the counter dividing the office part of the school from the waiting area, a woman busily wrote in a big notebook with thick covers and yellowing pages. Abby didn’t know her name, not like she’d known everyone’s back at her old school. Starting middle school had been exciting and scary all at once, but both Daddy and Daniel had assured her it was what all kids felt when a big change happened. It was what adults felt as well, and Abby had marched forward with her chin high and her belly in knots.

She shouldn’t have been worried. The very first week of classes, she’d found that most of her classmates were the same, and the teachers were awesome. It didn’t hurt that the middle and elementary school buildings sat next to each other, sharing a big yard. So Abby still got to see Daniel, and Ben got to see Amber and Sara when their breaks aligned.

But then—

Abby tapped her toes against the floor, the swift patter too soft to cause much noise. She’d waited on a similar bench many times for Daniel to finish classes and drive them home. Except, the other building was made directly the opposite, so everything was like in a mirror world. Left was right and right was left, and thankfully up wasn’t down, but it still felt wrong.

Next to her, Ben hadn’t moved, curled up with his arms around his knees and his face hidden. He held the hem of his skirt tightly in his shaking fists, and Abby bit her cheek. Before she could say anything, footsteps echoed in hurried thumps, and soon Sara stopped beside Ben.

“What happened?” she asked, eyes set on him.

“Ms. Gauthier,” the woman at the counter said. “Apologies for pulling you out of class. There was an incident, and you’re listed as this boy’s guardian?”

Sara pushed the curls off her forehead and sat down with a hand on Ben’s shoulder. Abby shivered, both waiting for and dreading the moment when—

The outside door opened, and in rushed Daniel.

“Abby, are you all right? Hey,” he said when Abby crossed her arms, unwilling to look up. But Daniel’s face came into view anyway as he crouched in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

Instead of words, Abby could only release a trembling breath, and she squeezed her eyes shut. So much for being strong. Even so, warmth fell around her like the softest blanket as Daniel hugged her to his side, and for a while, Abby focused on that. The palm rubbing up and down her arm was soothing. Neither Daniel nor Daddy had ever been disappointed in her, but they might be now. Not that Abby had done anything wrong; she was sure of it. Well, almost anything.

“Amber’s on her way,” Daniel was saying. “I was lucky my class has gym, but she had to find someone to supervise hers.”

Abby leaned in closer. Daniel was teaching first grade again this year. When Abby had been in his class for those few months before Daddy and Daniel had fallen in love over winter vacation, she’d hated gym so much. Daniel had explained why it was important, and then he did all the exercises with them, and it had become fun. She wondered if the little kids liked it or not, but then her eyes fell on Ben, and it was back to today.

While she hadn’t been paying attention, Amber had arrived. Now, at least Ben was talking to his moms instead of looking like a hiding turtle.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Daniel asked in that voice he had when Daddy was upset and needed a smile.

But nothing could make it better, and Abby shook her head stubbornly. She wished today had never happened. Middle school sucked.

Principal Saunders came out and talked to Sara in the hallway, but even though Sara seemed angry, they weren’t loud enough for Abby to hear. Then, Daniel was called in, and Ben left with his moms without even looking at her. It was fine though. Ben would be by for dinner later, like always on a Monday, because they had chess practice. All would be well.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

 

Meet the Author

Ava Kelly is an engineer with a deep passion for stories. Whether reading, watching, or writing them, Ava has always been surrounded by tales of all genres. Their goal is to bring more stories to life, especially those of friendship and compassion, those dedicated to trope subversion, those that give the void a voice, and those that spawn worlds of their own.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Tumblr

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Release Blitz: Make the Yuletide Gay by Ivy L. James #LGBTQ #HolidayRomance @AuthorIvyLJames

 

Title: Make the Yuletide Gay

Author: Ivy L. James

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: December 14, 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 24700

Genre: Contemporary Holiday, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, romance, lesbian, editors, publishing, seasonal/holiday/Christmas, age-gap, coworkers, office affair, road trip, hot chocolate

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Junior editor Grace Taylor is doubling as the temporary assistant to senior editor Nicola Valentine…and harboring a secret crush on her. Grace is devastated when a work conference forces her to miss her big family Christmas. However, she gets a gift she doesn’t expect when a snowstorm strands her and Nicola at a small B&B.

Nicola has no idea how to handle sharing a room with her gorgeous, vibrant assistant. As she learns to share her heart as well, her fear threatens the blossoming relationship. Can she let Grace in, or will Nicola’s past sabotage her chance at happiness?

Excerpt

Make the Yuletide Gay
Ivy L. James © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Grace Taylor, junior editor at Pembroke Press, had doubled as the temporary assistant to senior editor Nicola Valentine for two weeks now, and she had mixed feelings about the whole thing.

Pros of working so closely with Nicola:

It might provide an advantage when promotion time came around.
Grace saw Nicola’s beautiful, beautiful face all day.
When not seeing her beautiful, beautiful face, she saw her beautiful, beautiful ass.
God, she was beautiful.

Cons of working so closely with Nicola:

Grace had to see her beautiful, beautiful face all day.
When not seeing her beautiful, beautiful face, she had to see her beautiful, beautiful ass.
God, she was beautiful.

For obvious reasons, Grace kept these thoughts to herself.

At least she had the week of Christmas off. Some time away from the office—far away—might help reset her brain. There was nothing like her moms’ obsession with tinsel and oversized yard décor to get a girl’s mind off real life.

But right now, real life offered her a direct view of Nicola leaning against her oak desk during a conference call, and visions of sugar plums dissipated from Grace’s head.

The lamplight gleamed on the silk of Nicola’s deep-blue blouse, highlighting her curves, business tinted with pleasure. The neckline dipped low to bare smooth brown skin and a tempting shadow of cleavage. Her charcoal-gray pencil skirt fit tight over full hips and ass, and with her ever-present high heels… God.

Phone tucked between her shoulder and ear, Nicola traced the edge of the desk, her slim fingers tipped in short, gray-polished nails.

Grace sucked in a breath.

Those nails scraping on her skin, with the heels and prim clothes scattered across her apartment floor…

Not that that’s ever happening. Grace had no illusions about office relationships, casual or otherwise. It never ended well for anyone involved. Still…when she went home, no one had to know she fantasized about going to Nicola’s desk, with that silky shirt unbuttoned and dark hair loose, and pulling her into a deep, lazy kiss.

Late at night, the fantasy darkened. Panting breaths, exploring hands, parting legs…

You can’t think about this at work. She huffed and stalked over to the employee break room to busy her hands with preparing the morning coffees—one with plenty of creamer, one black. The beige office walls and bland cubicles around her did nothing to reflect the holiday season.

When Nicola ended the call, Grace opened the office door and offered her the second steaming mug. “How’s your morning so far?”

Nicola swigged from the cup, unfazed by the heat and bitterness. “I just learned I have to cancel my holiday plans to attend a work conference that Craig was supposed to cover. So I’ve had better.”

Craig Harkness, the other senior editor. Grace winced. “That sucks. Is it at least nearby?”

Nicola’s lips twisted into a humorless smile. “Of course not. It’s in Maine.”

Over a ten-hour drive away from their work in Washington, D.C. “Oh, no, will you—?”

“And, of course, I’ll need you with me.”

Grace froze.

“Between the holiday and the late notice, there aren’t any flights left, so we’ll take my car. We leave tomorrow, return next Saturday.”

Maine? For the entire week? Her brain threw up a blue screen of death, and she laughed. “Sorry, what?” You can’t possibly have said… No. No way.

Nicola scrolled through something on her phone screen. “I know it’s last minute. The company will reimburse you for any cancellations you have to make, plus our meals and accommodations, and you’ll get overtime. But you’ll need to go. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” When she glanced up, she really did look apologetic. “I know it’s not ideal.”

Not ideal? Grace’s family. Her traditional Christmas. Her chance to get Nicola Valentine out of her head. So close, and yet so far away. “I’m not sure I understand.”

With a tsk, Nicola set aside her coffee mug. “It’s the publishing conference of the year. If Pembroke Press isn’t there, we’re screwed. And Craig had some sort of personal emergency—” Her jaw ticked despite her even tone. “—so it falls to me. And I need my assistant with me to help keep everything on track.”

But I have to go? Grace had only been an in-office assistant so far. Scheduling meetings, answering emails, entering data in spreadsheets. Small things, relatively speaking. Conference of the year? What if I screw it up for her?

But she’d volunteered to assist, and she didn’t have the sway to say no. Not to mention the ever-looming mountain of college debt. I need this job.

Nicola stared at her with an are-you-stupid look. “Well?”

It wasn’t a question.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

 

Meet the Author

Ivy L. James wrote her first story on Post-it notes as a child. Since then, she has graduated to regular paper and enjoys writing inclusive, heartwarming romance as a way to counterbalance the negativity in the world. She lives in Maryland with her partner and their corgi, cat, and two snakes.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway 

 

Release Blitz: The Christmas Chevalier by Meg Mardell #LGBTQ #HistoricalRomance @megmardell

 

Title: The Christmas Chevalier

Series: Christmas Masquerade, Book One

Author: Meg Mardell

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: November 30th, 2020

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Female

Length: 33400

Genre: Historical, LGBTQIA+, historical/Victorian England, holiday/Christmas, gay, trans, friends to lovers, coming out, humorous, slow burn, mistaken identity, deception romance

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

Alvy Lexington has bought himself the best Christmas present in the world. True, the draughty flat on a dingy stretch of the Thames has none of the welcoming holiday warmth of his family’s West London townhouse. That is the entire point! No one who knows him by his given name will ever set foot here. When his old friend Laura Jacobs needs somewhere to spend the holidays, Alvy knows he should keep his distance, but… But Laura makes him do incautious things. Like offering her a job—since when did he manage a printing press?—and inviting her to a certain Christmas Eve masquerade.

Laura knows the lush London of the Lexingtons is only a temporary escape from her grey days as a governess. But she is determined to enjoy this glittering winter wonderland while it lasts, especially her dance with an angel of a man at the masquerade. Why, his French chevalier costume practically glows! While she daydreams about her white knight, an unexpected business opportunity with Alvy makes her hopeful of a new independent life. But first, she is going to have to come to a real understanding with her old friend.

Excerpt

The Christmas Chevalier
Meg Mardell © 2020
All Rights Reserved

London, 1879

“Oh, my…my…my…”

“God?” her companion supplied innocently.

Laura glared up from where she stood doubled over, clutching the door frame with one gloved hand and pressing her side with the other.

“Gracious! Why…why must you take rooms level with…Big Ben?”

Alvy continued looking down at her with infuriating amusement.

“Ah, but the climb is one of the place’s chief charms. Come look at the view of the river. The embankment’s spoilt all its old charm of course, but we must have wide streets and electric lamps apparently.”

Laura’s heart continued to slam against her corseted ribs. She was not willing to praise the view. Or to move a step further.

“The stairs smell of…boiled cabbage and worse. While your place…what is the smell, Alvy? I would say it was tobacco, except I know your mother—”

“Would have an apoplectic fit if she so much as detected a particle of ash on my person? Very true. But then, that is the beauty of taking quarters in such a godforsaken corner of the town. Mother will never visit! I’m rather glad you were intrepid enough to brave Vauxhall. And the stairs.”

Laura had at last mastered her breathing and straightened to return fire on her tormentor.

“What, and miss a chance to see for myself your new, er, work premises? How spacious it is!”

She gestured around the large but scarcely furnished room. The tall sash windows admitted a great deal of midday winter light—and even more of the chill December air. There was no sign of a desk, or worktable, and the domestic furnishings only extended to a day-bed and a pair of battered armchairs before an open fire.

“You forget, Alvy, I am not such a fine lady that I need fear stares outside of fashionable London. The freedoms of being in the governess class are many and varied.”

Alvy flopped down into an armchair and stretched a slippered foot out from under the hem of a heavy silk dressing gown towards the cheerful blaze.

“Are they indeed? By Jove, I should love to know more about these rights and privileges.”

Laura wondered if she was being teased. But then she never could tell with her friend.

“Well, let’s see…There is the right to squash into an omnibus and end up directly next to a gentleman with a dripping hat.”

Alvy grinned at this start. Laura warmed to her task.

“The right to return your library books while enduring the scrutiny of some wire-spectacled gorgon.”

“Very right too! You look just the sort to eat buttered toast while reading borrowed books.”

“And, let us not forget, the preeminent privilege of politely bickering about the bill with other governesses at tea rooms.”

“Harpies the lot of them—yourself excepted. Lord, I’m so glad you’ve escaped those grubby children—”

“Child. And this one is an angel.” Too angelic, in fact. It made Laura worry about the girl’s inner life.

“Sanctimonious parents—”

“Mr and Mrs Shepherdson have been nothing but kind!” Or they had been. Until the discovery of certain books and letters.

“And the atrociously dull company of Dingley Dell—”

“For the tenth time, Alvy, it is Findleys Ford.”

“Ah ha! So you at least admit they are dull. But all these country backwaters are the same. London’s the only place to live.”

“A point you are forever making in your letters. It is not like I hied off to Dingley—to Findleys Ford on an idle whim.”

“Well, well, the point is you’ve escaped for the holidays. And, as you see, I’ve escaped too.”

“That fact had not eluded me. Your mother claims you are never to be seen at Norland Square.”

Laura could not imagine ever wanting to leave the ever-so-comfortable surrounds of Alvy’s childhood home. She had dreamt of the sumptuous dinners, the hot baths, and the soft sheets turned down by a maid for weeks now as she lay on her narrow tick mattress under the eaves at the Shepherdsons.

“Your mother is under the impression you are starting some great enterprise that will give work to female printers who are refused employment elsewhere.”

“Ah, not quite. I said I was setting up a printing press—and set it up I have.”

Alvy gestured with a long-fingered hand to a space behind the still-gaping door.

Laura swung the door shut. A great black iron contraption with decorative gold paintwork dominated the otherwise empty space.

“Oh, you have an Albion Press!”

“An Albion? I could have sworn the past owner called it an albatross.”

“Very funny. But the gold finial—that gold crown on top—is unmistakable. How on earth did you get it up here?”

“The men got it up here with a great deal of sweat and swearing. I got it up with bribery. They threatened to quit halfway up the stairs.”

“I am only surprised they did not bring down the whole staircase. But the press looks excellently preserved.”

“And it will remain in exactly the same condition.”

“Do you mean it is truly only for show? That is a rather rotten trick to play your mother.”

“Trick? I have done Mother a great service. She doesn’t know what to do with me. She has finally despaired of my marrying now that I am striding across the wasteland of my thirties.”

“I do not remember her ever being very pressing on the issue.”

“I have given myself some employment. Now she will have something to tell her society ladies at those dreadful committee meetings.”

“That you have dedicated yourself to good works—without the work part?”

Alvy blithely ignored Laura’s sarcasm.

“She will omit the part about Vauxhall, naturally.”

“While you will omit everything else?”

Something in Alvy’s dark eyes suddenly made Laura wish to change her tart tone.

With no doormat or boot-scraper in sight, she had no choice but to track the sludgy London streets into the room. Not that there was a scrap of carpet to dirty. Seating herself in a heap of mud-striped travelling skirts on the lone ottoman, Laura studied her friend.

Alvy’s appearance, especially after a long separation, always rekindled a flicker of Laura’s original awe. She knew that the gaze she held was properly described as brown. It was just the pale skin turning bluish under the eyes that made them look so intensely dark. Likewise, the greying walls and bare floorboards of these new quarters probably made Alvy’s costume of rich browns and blues so transparently costly. Alvy preserved a long-limbed grace even when reclining in a splendid heap in the battered chair.

Laura once assumed that the possessor of such a regal appearance would snub a nobody like her. She had since learnt the error of judging by appearances. She now took up one of those elegantly white hands, trying to ignore how dirty her sensible gloves looked in comparison.

“Tell me really what you mean to do. Come. We have known each other since we were practically children.”

The elegant hand was withdrawn. Alvy sat higher in the chair and broke into a fair imitation of a Scotsman.

“Speak for yourself, lassie. I was a full three and twenty when we met at that bonny brook in Switzerland. Or have ye forgot that day?”

Laura definitely remembered the questioning curve of Alvy’s left eyebrow as they passed each other on the trail; she was looking at it again now. Laura had been nineteen and on her first assignment with a family wintering at Luzern.

“How could I forget? You were wearing the most memorable alpine hat and matching coat. More feathers and frogging I had never seen. And yet, infuriatingly, you wore it all with such ease. Why, you still do!”

Alvy looked confused. “I promise that I don’t strut down the streets of London in alpine dress.”

“I mean that you are able to look well in anything. Take this turban contraption. No one else could wear it without looking foolish. Well, except perhaps a Shakespearean tragedian.”

Alvy gingerly felt the turban in question, silk without a doubt, but burst into laughter upon Laura’s final admission.

“The thing you never do seem to realise, Miss Jacobs, is that all clothes are costumes. All equally ridiculous.”

“Yours are not ridiculous! Eccentric perhaps. But becoming. You always do upholster yourself exquisitely. Which is more than I can say for your rooms.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

Meg moved from the US to England because she fell in love with the Victorians’ peculiar blend of glamour and grime. After a decade of exploring historical excesses in a prim scholarly fashion, she realized that fiction is the best way to delve into that period’s great female-focused and LGBT+ stories. Weaned on the high-seas romances of the 1990s, Meg’s lost none of her love for cross-dressing cabin boys but any tolerance for boorish heroes. She’s delighted to now have a whole raft of quirky and queer characters to cheer for on their quest for Happily Ever After. She frequently breaks off writing for an Earl Grey tea (milk not lemon). She’s trying to learn Polish and Portuguese at the same time. She plans to escape Brexit Britain.

Website | Twitter | eMail

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway 

 

My Dragon, My Dom by Dulce Dennison #Dragons #shifters #ChristmasRomance #interracial

Officer Corbin Richters craves a human who doesn’t know dragons exist!

Officer Corbin Richters has gone through more partners than he can count. They all claim he’s difficult to work with, but he knows better. They’re scared being gay might be something they can catch. Idiots. When he’s assigned yet another partner, his inner dragon perks up and takes notice. Josh is different from anyone he’s ever met. Unfortunately, he’s also human.

When the two are tasked with getting Christmas trees for families in need, they never count on growing close. The more time Corbin spends with Josh, the more certain he becomes the man is his mate.

Available Today at Changeling Press

Cuckold's for Christmas by Stephanie Burke #PNR #ChristmasRomance #interracial

This season, One Dancer Dancing is more than enough...

After having her heart broken by a cheating ex, wealthy and disabled divorcee Emma-Jean Lawson twists her misfortune into an empowering statement… by opening up an all-male strip club named Cuckold’s. Now all she has to do is find her star dancer.

Noel Winters has a big wet problem. The once Principal Dancer for the Paris Ballet has turned to teaching his beloved dance to others after a career ending injury, but now a busted water heater, just in time for Christmas, has him seeking other means of income to keep his business afloat. An ad from Cuckold’s catches his attention. It can’t be that hard being an exotic dancer, can it?

When Emma and Noel meet, there’s an instant attraction, but is sex alone enough to hold a relationship steady? And where did the guys with guns come from? Suddenly their happily ever after is looking grim, but with two of the most magical allies helping along the way, maybe they will pull it together in time to have a happy holiday after all.

Available Today at Changeling Press

Mazes & Mistletoe by Ayla Ruse #PNR #ChristmasRomance

Santa’s greatest Puzzle Master can solve anything… until Missy stumbles into his maze.

Trevor runs the Puzzle and Games Workshop of the North Pole. Most think him quiet and ordinary, but no one knows about his fierce desire for the sexy owner of the day care center -- not even the owner herself. If only he could get up the nerve to go meet her…

Missy, owner of The Little Care day care, harbors the biggest crush on the cute Elf from the Puzzle Workshop across the way. As much as she’d love to march over there and see what happens between them, she won’t, because she knows the results of her magic will be worse than unrequited lust.

When an encounter in a Christmas Maze brings them together, Missy and Trevor discover magic is tangible, mazes aren’t for the shy and awkward, and true love might be found under the mistletoe.

Available Today at Changeling Press

COVER REVEAL -- Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde

I’m not the kind of man to give a woman a fairy tale ending.
But for Rin, I’m willing to try.

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Contemporary, Christmas, MC Romance,
New Adult, Silver Fox

Rin -- My mom died when I was little, and my dad followed when I was fifteen. My half-brother, the nastiest human being I’ve ever met, convinced people to grant him custody. More likely he bribed people. My life has been hell since then. Every time I try to run, he finds me, tortures me, and makes sure I toe the line. This time will be different. I’m asking the Dixie Reapers for help. If they turn me away, I’m as good as dead, but even that’s preferable to what my half-brother has planned for me next.

I didn’t count on the sexy man with the dark, brooding eyes. The man who defended me only seconds after laying eyes on me. The man who makes me want things I’ve wanted before. I knew better than to sleep with him, knew I wasn’t good enough. When he rejects me, I run. Discovering several weeks later that he left a little part of himself inside of me is even more terrifying than my half-brother finding me.

Wraith -- I’m not the settling down type. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. While I was serving overseas, my sister was left for dead in a gutter. I failed her. Failed my parents, who made me promise to protect her before they breathed their last. Now I’m faced with Rin, the strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. She needs a protector, and I’ll gladly be that for her. I want her. Want to keep her and make her mine. I’ve fucked my share of women over the years, but I’ve never made love to one. Until her. But I’m no good for her, or anyone else. She thinks she’s not worthy of me, but it’s the other way around. Then she runs and I feel like a piece of my soul has been ripped out. Finding her won’t be easy, but I won’t stop until she’s back in my home, in my bed. And I’ll make sure that every asshole who ever laid a hand on her is buried six feet under or rotting in prison. No one will ever hurt her again.

It never occurred to me that I would be the asshole to hurt her. I stopped believing in Christmas miracles a long time ago, but now I really need one. I need Rin back, and I’ll do anything to make her mine.

Warning: Bondage. Spanking. Anal sex. Over the top, melt your e-reader, make your panties wet sex. If you don’t like those things, this book probably isn’t for you.

Coming November 30th to Changeling Press
and December 7th to online retailers

Guest Spot: Virgin Under the Mistletoe by Paige Warren

Danika

Killian Reid. Even saying his name makes my panties damp. He has to be the sexiest man I've ever met, even if he is twenty-one years older than me. I've been crushing on him since I was fifteen. For six years, my Christmas wish has been for Killian to notice me. I never thought it was possible – until now.

Killian

Holy hell! It was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips under some mistletoe, but damn. Little Danika Parker isn't all that little anymore, with curves in all the right places. I’m pretty sure I’ll be reliving that hot as fuck kiss for a while. This Christmas, the only present I want to unwrap is her.

Stand-alone novella, no cliffhanger, no cheating, dual POV

Amazon / B&N / iTunes / Kobo

 

Excerpt

Killian hung some mistletoe in the living room doorway and I smiled sadly. I wouldn’t be sharing kisses with anyone this year. The only people likely to stop by my house were either my friend, Bethany, or my parents. Kissing any of them, other than on the cheek, was out of the question.

Killian’s brow arched again and he pointed up at it. “You’re just going to leave me hanging here? It’s tradition.”

“I think the tradition is that if two people get caught under the mistletoe they have to share a kiss. You’re all alone over there.”

“You could rectify that.”

Smiling a little, I walked toward him and stopped under the mistletoe. Even on tiptoe I couldn’t reach him, but he bent down and met me halfway. I leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his head at the last minute and our lips met. Fire sizzled through me at the contact and I clutched at his shirt to hold on. Killian’s lips moved against mine and his tongue flicked out, asking for entry. I parted my lips and welcomed him in.

My toes curled against the carpet as his kiss left me dizzy and wanting more. My thoughts spun in different directions as I tried to process what was happening. He’d never shown me any interest before, but I knew this was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life. Kissing Killian was better than anything I’d ever imagined.

Killian drew away, his arm still around my waist. His eyes were dark with passion as he smiled down at me. I felt like I should say something, but my brain was still catching up. He pressed another kiss to my lips then backed away, shoving his hands back into his pockets. My hand lifted and touched my lips as I watched him.

“Now you’ve had your first Christmas kiss of the year,” he said.

“It will likely be my only Christmas kiss this year.”

“Pity. You do it so well.”

My cheeks warmed again.

“Well, Miss Parker. Anything else you need help with around here?”

I could think of something he could help me with, but I didn’t think he was referring to my damp panties. I’d have been more than happy for him to take them off and make me scream his name the rest of the afternoon. I might have sworn off guys, but Killian was in a category all his own. If he wanted to rock my world, I would let him.

“The only thing I have left is the dining room,” I said. “It’s just a tablecloth and placemats though, so I can handle that.”

“Then I guess my work here is done. Call me if you need anything else.”

Anything like what exactly? Was that an open-ended invitation to call him, or only for Christmas related things?

Killian hesitated only a moment before giving me another smirk and walking out the door. I peered through the front window and watched him back down the driveway, heading out. When I couldn’t see his truck anymore, I faced my empty home. A house that felt far emptier now that he’d been in it and then left.

What would it take to make a guy like Killian stick around?

New Release - Chasing Christmas (a gay holiday romance)

Genre: Paranormal
Themes: Christmas, New Adult, Gay, Shapeshifter
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Publisher: Changeling Press

College senior and ocelot shifter Beck Prescott is home for the holidays, but there’s only one present he wants to find under his tree — his sexy neighbor, Chris Wilcox. Even though the wolf shifter is older than Beck, Beck knows they’re destined to be together.

Getting Chris to agree is another matter, but Christmas is the time for miracles, and Beck thinks this is the year he may get his fondest wish. A mate.

Available Now at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for December 8th at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo

Excerpt

Beck Prescott couldn’t decide if he was elated to be home because it meant spying on his super sexy neighbor, or being filled with dread because he knew his parents would ask, once more, if he’d found his mate. Truth be told, he’d known since he was sixteen who his mate was, but he had fuck all chance of landing the sexy beast. Their neighbor, Chris Wilcox, hardly knew he existed. They’d barely spoken aside from a random hello here and there over the years. And was it any wonder? Chris had to be close to his parents’ age. Not that he looked a day over thirty, despite the silver at his temples.

He peered through his bedroom window and into the house next door. It just happened to be that Chris’s bedroom was directly across from Beck’s, which had been both a pleasure and a torture for the last five years. The object of his obsession was doing pull-ups in the bedroom doorway, his abs rippling with the movement. Beck licked his lips and pressed his hand against the growing erection in his jeans. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered what it would feel like to be held by such strong arms. The few guys he’d been with couldn’t compare.

Chris did several more pull-ups before dropping to the ground and grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the sweat from his face and body. Beck wondered where Paul was — Chris’s significant other. Even though he knew Paul sometimes went out of town for business, it seemed odd he’d be gone during the holidays.

“Beck!” his mother yelled up the stairs. “I know you’re here. Your car is in the driveway.”

He sighed and pushed away from the window, making his way downstairs. His mother stood at the bottom, her arms folded and her foot tapping. The look of displeasure on her face was completely his doing, mostly because he’d been avoiding her.

“Were you going to hide up there until you starved?” she asked.

“I was going to come tell you hello,” Beck said. “I needed to put my things away.” And do a little drooling over Mr. Sexy.

“Your father and I have to go out tonight. A dinner with his law firm,” his mom said. “I’ve made some spaghetti and it’s in the fridge. All you have to do is warm it up. There’s a loaf of Italian bread in the pantry, if you’d like some to go with it.”

“You didn’t have to cook for me if you had plans,” Beck said. “I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

She patted his cheek. “You’ll always be my baby boy. I’m going to be busy the next few days planning the Christmas Eve party, so I won’t get to spend much time with you until Christmas Day.”

“It’s fine, Mom. I know how to entertain myself.” Mostly by looking out his bedroom window. “Besides, we’ll have almost a full week after the party before I have to return to campus.”

“I’ve delivered all of the invitations except one,” his mom said. “Will you take this one over to Mr. Wilcox? I’ve been in such a rush I overlooked it.”

She handed him a red envelope with silver writing across the front. Beck took the invitation and smoothed a hand down his wrinkled shirt. He grabbed his leather coat off the hook by the door and pulled it on before stepping out into the snow. Little did his mother realize she’d just given him the best present ever: a reason to talk to their neighbor.

Beck trudged through the ankle-deep snow and walked up the icy steps of Chris Wilcox’s home. He rang the bell and waited, stomping his feet to keep the blood flowing. Shifter or not, it was damn cold outside.

The door swung open and a shirtless Chris stood in the doorway. “Beck. I didn’t realize you were back home.”

“Christmas break, but it’s my senior year, so it won’t be long before I’m back for good. Or at least until I get my own place.”

Chris nodded. “You’re what? Twenty-one now?”

“Only for another month.” Beck held out the envelope. “Mom wanted me to bring this by. It’s your invitation to the Christmas Eve party she throws every year.”

Chris reached out to take it, his fingers brushing against Beck’s. It was enough to make the young shifter shiver, and not from the cold. Chris’s gaze raked over him as he opened the envelope. He scanned the contents of the invitation and frowned a little.

“I’m afraid Paul will not be attending with me,” Chris said.

“Is Mr. Murphy out of town?” Beck asked.

“Yes. Indefinitely.” Chris’s gaze locked on his. “Paul and I are no longer together.”

Beck’s heart leapt at the words, but he tried to hide his excitement. “I’m sorry. I know the two of you were together a long time.”

Chris shrugged. “He found his mate.”

“Maybe you’ll find yours,” Beck said, his voice low as he held the older shifter’s gaze. Beck thought it might be his imagination, but the shifter’s eyes seem to warm as he stared back. He wondered what it would take to not only gain the attention of someone like Chris, but to hold it.