Salvaging Christmas by Brian Lancaster

General Release Date: 30th November 2021

Word Count: 67,278
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 264

Genres:

CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
HOLIDAYS

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Book Description

For years they have kept the Yuletide Gay Club going with like minded friends until this year grim providence decides to stick in his ugly snout. But just as everything starts to fall apart, the son of the owner turns up and the real fun begins.

Tired with awkward family Christmases, Trevor McTavish and his best friend have planned a getaway each year for twelve close gay friends to enjoy the festive season together in remote country locations around Britain. Far from the maddening crowds. Beautiful Stratham Lodge in Scotland, hugging the shores of Loch Arkaig, is set to be this year’s rental destination.

Except this year, one by one, friends have dropped out. Against their better judgement, they decide to bite the bullet and forge ahead with a much reduced, and somewhat contentious party, which includes Trevor’s formerly gay ex-husband and his new girlfriend.

On the second day, Trevor realises this year’s break is going to be a disaster. But then the son of the lodge owner, Rudy Mortimer, appears and saves the day.

Reader advisory: This book contains mention of homophobia, domestic abuse and sexual assault.

Excerpt

Trevor McTavish loved traditions.

Or, more to the point, new traditions built on old ones. After all, wasn’t that what most of them were, a blend of old and new, built layer upon layer over time? They provided a foundation, something people could rely on, even when everything else around them broke down, or changed unexpectedly, or disappeared entirely from their lives—which seemed to happen to him all too often of late.

Traditions ensured continuity, and even with the few hiccups this year had brought, Trevor loved the Christmas tradition he and Cheryl had created for their friends.

As the sullen driver of the prepaid cab steered in silence through the early morning streets of London, Trevor rested his head against the ice-cold window. Gentle vibrations from the hybrid engine massaged his skull. Already the sky had begun transitioning from purest black as the night shift packed up and daylight took over. Fully alert despite the early hour, he looked for homes with their Christmas lights still burning and gardens or roofs decorated with seasonal figures. A part of him instinctively knew he would get along with the person who had gone to all the effort to put them up, most likely done to make other people smile.

Nothing could shake Trevor’s upbeat mood as the cab turned into the familiar road where the Madison family lived. Since he’d packed last night, the sense of anticipation and excitement at the promise of a road trip with best friends had kept him pumped up and grinning like an inflatable snowman.

Six in the morning on that pre-dawn Friday in December, he climbed out of the overheated car and crunched down onto a pavement of overnight frost. After collecting his luggage from the boot, he pulled out a five-pound note from his wallet and tapped a fingernail on the driver’s window. With a smile, he held up the banknote, ready to wish the man a heartfelt season’s greetings. After all, if the poor guy had to drive a cab at this early hour, he obviously needed the money.

Without even bothering to acknowledge Trevor, the driver pulled away.

Left standing alone in the road, Trevor shrugged and put the fiver back. Perhaps the man had somewhere better to be. Not everyone shared his passion for all things festive.

Humming to himself, he manoeuvred his wheelie luggage up the broken-tiled garden path and prodded the front doorbell. Bing-bongs chimed from somewhere inside. Cheryl Madison’s mother opened the door in her furry-hooded olive parka and mismatching navy Wellington boots. Further at odds with the ensemble, her pink floral nightie peeked out from beneath the jacket.

Trevor almost let out a giggle.

Until he saw the expression on her face.

After a furtive glance at the staircase behind her, Mrs M nodded sharply towards the Volvo out front while handing him a small but deceptively heavy cardboard box. Hauling a larger one from the floor, she strode past him and he trailed after her, the wheels of his luggage clunking arrhythmically on the broken pavement. Only as she unlocked the hatchback and placed her carton inside did she reveal the predicament.

“Hannah’s not coming. She broke up with Cheryl last night. Met someone at their Christmas office party on Tuesday night. Supposedly.”

The way she articulated that final word said everything. Trevor dropped onto the tailgate—causing the car to bounce—and placed his container next to hers. Mrs M stood there studying him, arms folded, appearing to wait for his response. Instinctively, he mirrored her body language and sighed. Of all their friends, he understood only too well the devastating effects of being dumped. Right before their long-anticipated Christmas trip, too. Hannah had always possessed a selfish streak, an immunity to the sensibilities of others. She had often manipulated Cheryl but he’d never thought she would stoop so low.

“Shit. Poor Cheryl. How’s she coping?”

“You’ll see in a minute. Putting on a brave front. I tried to sound surprised when she told me, but something’s not been right for months. The important thing, Trevor, is that we’re down by one more guest.”

“Double shit,” he said, staring down at the road between his legs.

“I’ll let you think about that before I bring out any more boxes, and while I go and put the kettle on,” she said, before heading back to the house.

So much for the Yuletide Gay Club.

They had started the group five years ago. Cheryl, his best friend since high school, could take credit for the idea and him for its successful implementation. Sick of hearing in January how many of their gay friends had spent the holiday season either alone or with families who barely tolerated them, they had created their own tradition.

Six couples shared the cost of renting a country cottage in rural Britain. Seven or eight days spent enjoying Christmas their own way, with their own people, in the countryside.

Far from the maddening crowds.

At first nobody had known whether bringing together couples who were occasional friends would work. That first time, the gathering in the six-bedroom farmhouse in Devon had turned out to be nothing short of a miracle. Everyone had gelled quickly and mucked in together, laughed and got drunk together, played games like Cards Against Humanity until sunrise and raved about the break well into the New Year. So good was the experience that Trevor had already had the next event booked up by February. The same thing had happened the following years, with the small group growing closer.

Except this year—the fifth—grim providence had made a personal appearance. Tragically, Mrs M’s seventy-two-year-old Scottish girlfriend, Monica, the only other person allowed in the kitchen at Christmas and the life and soul of the party, had succumbed unexpectedly to a brain aneurism and passed away in late January.

Next up, at the beginning of March, they had received a cryptic email from regulars Johnny and Frank. Both having quit their jobs, they’d decided to take a hiatus from the rat race, managed to rent out their home, and set off on their travels. Finally free, they’d also committed to a technology-free tour of the world and their last handwritten postcard had been sent from somewhere in the Middle East.

As the year progressed, the casualties had continued to fall like autumn leaves until the usual company of twelve had dropped to five.

Then in April, Trevor’s husband of two years, Karl, had not only announced his newly discovered heterosexuality, or bisexuality, or sexual fluidity—he had yet to settle on a label—but admitted that he had fallen in love with a woman. Four years together, and Trevor’s spouse had woken one morning and realised he had been wrestling for the wrong tag team.

Which left four of them. Initially, they had considered cancelling the event. But without consulting any of them, Hannah had tactlessly filled one space with a new girl from her office, twenty-year-old Jessica, who, in turn, decided that bringing along a male colleague would be perfectly acceptable.

Could things get any worse?

Apparently, they could. After Trevor had signed the online divorce papers, there had followed a doorstep altercation with Karl about which artwork, pillows, bed linen, dishes and cutlery he was entitled to take in the divorce. Not thinking straight, Trevor had succumbed to all his demands. In addition, for their Christmas excursion, Karl had seen no reason why he should be ostracised, why he should not still be invited with his new partner. Maybe because of dwindling numbers, or more likely the result of a temporary lapse in sanity, Trevor had capitulated.

Cheryl had refused to speak to him for three weeks after he’d told her.

By the beginning of December, the promise of a seasonal sanctuary, which used to be the epitome of a cosy, warm and cuddly Christmas Hallmark movie, had morphed into the awkward, dysfunctional cast of characters befitting a Woody Allen feature.

“The question remains,” came the voice of Mrs M. Lost in his thoughts, he jumped when she perched down beside him. “Is it too late to cancel?”

Trevor huffed out a steamy breath and searched for seasonal inspiration along the row of terraced houses. All year he had been looking forwards to their getaway. But this wasn’t only about him.

“Technically, it isn’t. But we won’t get a refund, so we’ll lose the full amount, deposit and all. I’ll also need to ring around and let everyone know pretty swiftly before people set off tomorrow. And I’ll try, but I’m not sure I can contact the owner. Apparently, she has her own family gathering abroad.”

Two nights ago, he had received an email from Mrs Mortimer-King telling him that she would not be in Scotland to meet them, but would arrange for someone to hand the keys over and settle them in. Even though he’d never met her, he liked dealing with her, enjoyed her clear instructions, efficiency and her friendly communications.

“I had a long talk with Cheryl last night,” said Mrs M. “She still wants to go. Doesn’t want to spend Christmas at home sitting around moping.”

“Understandable. How about you?”

Mrs M provided another smile before gazing wistfully to the heavens.

“No matter where I am, I’m going to miss having Mon by my side. She always made this time of the year special. Might as well be busy in Scotland as stuck here with too much time on my hands. Cheryl can help me in the kitchen. How about Karl?”

“Karl? What about him? He’s going to be there.”

“That’s my point. How do you feel about that?”

“It’s fine. I’ll deal.”

Total nonsense, of course. Privately, Trevor prayed his ex-husband would do the decent thing and not show up, or perhaps the new significant other would be better at talking him down from the ledge of his principles. Most of all, he dreaded the idea of seeing Karl fawning over a new partner. Over the years Trevor had grown to love the man, had looked to their life together. Karl suppressed his emotions well and had never been afraid to put on a front and fight for what he believed to be right. Trevor had never been a fighter. He had felt emotionally volatile during their doorstep argument. After Karl had gotten everything he came for, he’d promptly turned on his heel and headed back to the comfort of his newfound relationship. That evening, Trevor had curled up on his side of the double bed he had managed to keep, feeling so painfully alone and pathetic. All night he had lain awake, wondering why Karl had never fought for him the same way.

“In different ways, we’ve both lost someone this year, Trevor. But you know we’ll be there for you, Cheryl and me, don’t you?” said Mrs M, as though hearing his thoughts.

“And I really appreciate that, Mrs M. But if they do show up, promise me you won’t let the break turn into an us-and-them fiasco. You know what Karl’s like when he becomes militant.”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing so. But I’m also not standing quietly and letting him order anyone around. Like he usually does.” She pushed a lock of grey hair from her face before turning to him. “He’s still going to the SLAGO meetings. Turned up at the Christmas fundraiser. Did he tell you?”

Karl had said nothing, but Trevor was unsurprised. His ex might have woken up one day and realised he wasn’t gay anymore, but he still loved a cause, a fight to champion. Hence his unfailing loyalty to the Surrey and London Association of Gay Organisations. After the break-up, Cheryl had mused somewhat unkindly whether Karl had ever really been gay, whether he had decided to call himself queer because he needed to wear a badge of honour, to fight on the side of something subversive and radical, become a member of the Great British LGBTQ Cause Club. Trevor knew different, because their relationship had not been a sham even if Karl had shunned affection outside the bedroom. Trevor accepted those things because they meant having someone to care for, to love and share a life with. And more than anything, even after everything that had transpired, Trevor still respected Karl as a person.

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About the Author

Brian Lancaster

Brian Lancaster is an author of gay romantic fiction in multiple genres, including contemporary romance, paranormal, fantasy, crime, mystery, and anything else that tickles his muse’s fancy. Born in the sleepy South of England where most of his stories are set, he moved to Southeast Asia in 1998, where he now shares a home with his husband and two of the laziest cats on the planet.

Find out more about Brian at his website.

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Christmas at North Bend by Wendi Zwaduk

General Release Date: 30th November 2021

Word Count: 67,143
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 248

Genres:

CHRISTMAS
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
HOLIDAYS

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Book Description

Are second chances possible? They can be in North Bend.

Alex West left North Bend behind and became the famous author RR Taylor. He’s happy with his jet-setting lifestyle, until a book signing brings him to North Bend. Surrounded by the beauty of the small town and the closeness of the community, he starts to rethink his reasons for leaving. Seeing his high-school flame, Molly Adams, brings all the old feelings back into focus. He wants to make her Christmas bright and win her heart, too.

Can he convince her to believe in the magic of Christmas and their second chance, or is the blossoming romance destined to melt with the holiday snow?

Excerpt

Alex West stood in the middle of the concourse at Cleveland Hopkins airport and toyed with the handle of his bag. His assistant, Jill Gosk, fiddled with her phone and growled. The people on the plane had been irritated by the lateness of the flight and the snow delaying their landing a few minutes. He didn’t mind. Christmas, even seven days away, was the time to slow down and spend precious hours with family and friends—not stress over things he couldn’t control.

“What’s the matter?” He noticed a dusting of snow on the windowsill and wished he were out in the cold. He loved Christmas in Ohio, even if he hadn’t spent much time in the state in a few years. “Jill?”

“The car should be ready so all we have to do is retrieve your bags from the claims area. According to my app, the bags are down there.” Jill glanced about. “This is a tiny airport.”

“It’s not LAX, but it works.” He pointed to the corridor. “Let’s get the luggage.” He nudged her forward. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Girl, you save my butt almost every day.” He grinned and fell into step beside her. “How’s Nick?”

She blushed. “I—I didn’t think you knew about him.”

“He called to tell me you were together,” Alex said. “I told him I was happy for you. I’m glad you found each other.” He rode the escalator to the ground floor. The sound of Christmas carols echoed in the air, along with the din of conversation. He watched the people moving about. There were stories in these folks. Stories about love lost, love found, people reconnecting and the joy of Christmas. He chuckled to himself. He could use these bits and pieces for his own upcoming writing. The book wouldn’t write itself and he needed the right push to get started.

“Here. Our bags are in carousel C.” Jill marched up to the revolving belt filled with luggage. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

“Sure will.” Alex sighed. He trusted Jill with his schedule and his business dealings. She knew how to get him from point A to point B without issue. He slid his gaze over the array of bags. “Either I’m wrong, or I don’t see mine.” He pointed to her lavender suitcase. “There’s yours.”

She nodded and grabbed her bags from the belt. “Got them. Yours should be along.” She checked her phone again and turned the screen around. “See? The app says they’re here.”

“Right, but they’re on the second time through and mine aren’t there. I’ve kept an eye out.” He glanced over her shoulder at the phone. “The app is wrong.”

“It can’t be.” She massaged her temple. “They have to be here.”

He’d learned not to let minor setbacks get to him. Being a writer meant having a thick skin. Just because one person didn’t like his work didn’t mean a myriad of others agreed. Besides, who could be upset at Christmas? “It’s okay. We’ll go to the lost luggage department.” He guided her and her bag away from the carousel. “My bags are probably halfway to Chicago.”

“I’m so sorry, RR.”

She’d used his pen name. He shouldn’t be annoyed, but he’d rather be referred to by his given name in this instance. “Don’t sweat it. We’re on the way to my parents and I’m sure I can borrow some of my father’s clothes until my luggage gets here—if we didn’t simply go to the wrong carousel.” He’d bet the bags were on the wrong plane, but he saw no reason to get upset. “It’s going to be all right.” He strode up to the counter.

The woman at the desk smiled, but before he could speak, Jill stepped forward.

“Hi. I booked the flight for Mr. Taylor and we’ve arrived, but his luggage hasn’t. I have the information on the app and everything.” Jill held up her phone. “See?”

The woman smiled again. “Let me check your information.” She paused. “RR Taylor? As in the author RR Taylor?”

“That’s me.” He offered his hand. “I’m heading over to North Bend for Christmas with my family and to do a book signing the day after tomorrow. If you’re available, you should stop in.”

“I’m working all week,” the attendant said. “But it’s great to meet you. I’ve read all your books. I loved Crispin in New York.”

“Thank you. If you have a piece of paper, I’ll autograph it for you.” He waited for her to give him something to write on, then signed the page with a special note for her. “There. Enjoy.”

“Thank you.” The attendant beamed. “Wow.” She tucked the paper into her front pocket. “I wish I had better news for you concerning your bags. According to my tracking system, your luggage was rerouted to New York and will be back in two days. We can call you when it’s at the terminal.”

“No,” Jill said. “He needs his clothes.”

“I’ll get by.” He placed his hand on Jill’s arm and turned his attention to the attendant. “Thank you. Where can I leave my information?” Not having his clothes or the presents he’d brought for his family wasn’t ideal, but he had little choice.

“I’ve got it on file with your baggage and flight numbers,” the attendant said. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you. I hope I have my luggage before Christmas. If I don’t, then I don’t. I hope you have a Merry Christmas, too.” He nudged Jill. “We should go.”

“I messed up,” Jill said. “This is bad.”

“You didn’t mess up.” He nodded to the sign directing them to the car rental counter. “Why don’t you check on the car?”

“Oh yeah.” She darted away with her phone.

Alex sighed. Jill was a sweet woman, but so highly strung. He thanked the cosmos she’d come into his orbit to help with his promotional needs, but he could use a break from her. He followed behind her, but at a bit of a distance. One of his plans wasn’t going so well. Time to check on another of his schemes. He sent a text to Nick.

Are you at the hotel? She’s upset about my luggage being lost. Might need to be extra sweet to her. Do you have everything you need for tonight?

Alex didn’t wait for a response and instead tucked his phone into his jacket pocket. He hurried after Jill. He’d worked with her boyfriend to facilitate Nick’s proposal that night. Jill would be happy, Nick would have the woman he loved and Alex would have a break.

Jill stopped walking and her shoulders slumped. Her brow crinkled. She still had her phone to her ear. “You don’t understand. I reserved the car a month ago. We need that vehicle. I don’t care if it’s the holidays. We have places to be. No, I don’t want…my client is leaving. Hold on.” She stopped Alex. “Wait.”

“Take a breath. It’s Christmas. Everyone is on the edge and you getting upset isn’t helping. The more you and I flip out, the more upset everyone else will be.” He pointed to the rental counter. “Let’s check on the car in person.”

“I’ll handle it.” Jill pushed past him. “Wait over there.”

He should argue with her, but he’d just given his speech on being calm. Disputing wouldn’t get him anywhere. Part of him didn’t mind taking his time while getting to North Bend, but the rest of him wanted to unite Jill with Nick. Then she’d relax. Good thing Alex had flown Nick in ahead of time and had him installed in the hotel in North Bend.

Alex waited by the bank of windows and stared out at the planes on the tarmac. His thoughts wandered. Why had he stayed away from North Bend for so long? He loved the snow and quiet of Ohio and appreciated the small-town feel of his home base, but his apartment in Los Angeles had everything he needed. His favorite restaurants were within walking distance and while he didn’t want for anything entertainment-wise, he missed his friends in North Bend. The people he’d grown up and come of age with. He had so many fond memories of the town. Plus…there was Molly.

He held his bag tighter. Before he’d left town, he had to see Molly. They’d been so tight. He’d once thought he’d marry her. He’d never forget the blue of her eyes, the softness of her hair or the way she blushed when she smiled. They’d been the best of friends and she’d been his first girlfriend. First lots of things. Then they’d gone their separate ways. When they’d been together, he’d told her everything. She’d confided in him when she’d flunked her driving test and when she’d thought he wanted to fix her up with their mutual friend Tony. She hadn’t been in love with Tony—she’d loved Alex.

Flashes of his years with Molly came to mind—volunteering at the Santa Barn, secret Santa shopping and all those visits to the library… He’d heard about her opening the bookstore and vowed he’d sign books at the shop.

Wouldn’t she be surprised when she saw him? Was she single? He’d forgotten to ask his mother about Molly’s relationship status when he’d planned his trip back to Ohio. But wouldn’t his mother have mentioned Molly being married? Wouldn’t Molly have invited him to the wedding—if she’d gotten hitched?

Jill stomped up to him. “Okay. So, here’s the problem. We must have a car, but we can’t have two like I wanted. Just one, so we have to share.”

“I thought that was the plan.” It had been when he’d canceled her vehicle. She didn’t need a separate car if Nick had one and they’d be together.

“This isn’t right. Your luggage is missing, we’ve only got one car… What else can go wrong?” Jill asked.

“The luggage will come back and the car situation is fine.”

“Oh no.” Jill pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s snowing.”

“I’ve driven in snow.”

“It’s cold.”

“Ohio is cold,” Alex said. He stared at her. “You’re holding something back. What’s the rest of the issue?”

“I miss Nick. It’s Christmas and I’m not with the one I love.” She sighed. “I need some sleep and a few hours to regroup. I hate being this grouchy.”

“You’re stressed. It happens.” He grasped her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You never know—Nick might be waiting at the hotel.”

“Fat chance.” She sank onto the closest chair. “You don’t understand. I’m being pouty, and I hate it. The thing is, I thought I could do this job, but I feel like I’m failing. I’m sorry.”

“Stress is a pain in the neck.” He sat beside her and took the keys from her. “Take a few moments to recover. While I’m driving us to North Bend, why don’t you call Nick? That’ll make you feel better.”

“Ugh. That’s the other part of this. I tried to call him, but I can’t get an answer.”

He checked his phone. The LED light flashed green, meaning he had a new text. He retrieved the message from Nick.

Here and ready for the surprise. I can’t wait.

Good. Nick was in place. Alex tucked his phone in his pocket again. “Well, why not try again? He might have been temporarily engaged.” Drat. He should’ve chosen a different word. “Just call him.”

Jill stared at him. “How can you be so calm? Is it because you’re going to see Molly over Christmas?”

“Maybe.” Not really. Thinking about seeing his friend excited him. He hasn’t spent time with her in forever. He missed their friendship. Plus, he wanted to know why they’d drifted apart.

“Well, she seems nice.” Jill stood. “I feel better. Thanks for letting me freak out.”

He joined her and started toward the doors leading to the row of rental cars. “You’re welcome.”

“How long is the drive to North Bend?” She fell into step beside him. “It’s far away from here, isn’t it?”

“About an hour and a half.” He stopped at the parking slot containing the SUV. “This is what we have?”

“The dark blue behemoth. It was the only one not rented out.” Jill tried the passenger-side door. “It’s not the compact one, but it’ll do.”

“See? That’s the Christmas spirit.” He climbed behind the wheel of the SUV. “Here’s to the next leg of our journey. You’ll have plenty of room to stretch out and it would appear there’s satellite radio, so your favorite channels are on here, too.”

“Something is finally normal,” Jill said. “Yes.”

“As for you doing your job, don’t worry. I wouldn’t be in Ohio without you.” He could, but she needed the reassurance. “It’s Christmas. We start being jolly as of right now. We won’t let work get us upset and won’t worry about the signing. The spirit of the season is around us and we’re going to have fun.” If he had his way, Jill and Nick would be engaged that night and he’d have the next book started. Merry Christmas.

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About the Author

Wendi Zwaduk

Wendi Zwaduk is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to BDSM and LGBTQ themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com and the former AllRomance Ebooks. She also writes under the name of Megan Slayer.

When she’s not writing, she spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

You can find out more about Wendi on her website or on her blog. You can also find her on Instagram, Bookbub and Amazon.

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The Donne Deal by Lori Fayre

Book 2 in the Unexpected Mergers series

General Release Date: 23rd November 2021

Word Count: 50,577
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 193

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
COWBOYS AND WESTERN
ROMANCE
SWEET ROMANCE

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Book Description

Home is where the heart is…

Kindall Armstead was content with her life in the heart of Manhattan. She had a successful career and a welcome lack of romance to muddle things up. So, when Texas cowboy Clint Donne walks into her life, it’s more than her client’s wedding that he crashes. Before she knows it, her one-time fling has turned into something far more dangerous, and Kindall now finds herself skipping a tropical vacation in favor of a heated Texas ranch in need of serious help.

With family drama, deep secrets and a suspicious local creating trouble for her, Kindall barely has time to plan the Donnes’ annual family festival, much less think about the complicated, messy feelings she has for a smooth cowboy with a crooked grin.

With much more at stake than just her heart, can this city girl go back to her roots—or will she shake the dust from her designer shoes and turn her back on the only place that is starting to feel like home?

Reader advisory: This book contains bullying and references to inadequate parenting.

Excerpt

For the first time since she could remember, Kindall was ready for the workday to end. She marched through the open floor, ticking boxes on her tablet once she was sure everything was in order. Laura Cortez, her assistant, followed close behind, making her own notes as they went.

Kindall would be leaving everything in Laura’s care while she was gone. It was a big step for both of them. Laura had never been given so much responsibility at once and Kindall had never trusted anyone to do her job right. But Kindall knew that the young girl was eager, capable and would make her proud.

Laura reminded Kindall of herself in many ways. It wasn’t that they looked alike. Laura was younger, with short black hair and bright green eyes. Her skin was a deep tan, telling of her Salvadoran roots. No, it was the way that Laura was completely devoted to her job, willing to do whatever was necessary. Laura had made it no secret that she wanted Kindall’s position as chief event coordinator someday, and she worked hard to prove herself.

“Don’t forget you’ll be meeting with the caterers this weekend,” Kindall said over her shoulder, her heels clicking on the tile. “And there will be an order coming in early next week with the new dinnerware.”

“I’ve already got it here,” Laura said. “You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I’m going to anyway,” she said, stopping at the fabric station. There was a dark cut of fabric with metallic pinstriped threading. “What is this?”

“I think Damien found that earlier,” Laura said. “He was wondering if we had more of it for the dinner.”

“What? Where is he?” Crumpling the swatch in her hand, she rounded on Laura, looking over her to find her newest employee. Damien was near one of the table settings, flicking his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. He was young, probably just old enough to legally drink, and had the type of face that screamed ‘heartthrob’.

Kindall wasn’t the type to be duped by a pretty face. Well, except when it came to Clint Donne. Don’t think about him now, she scolded herself. Steeling herself for confrontation, Kindall made her way over to Damien.

“Why was this with the fabrics for the executive dinner?” she asked sternly, holding the cloth in front of his face.

“Oh, that,” Damien said slowly. “Yeah, I found that in the storage room and thought it would look good or something.” He shrugged and offered her a crooked grin.

Kindall could practically feel Laura melting beside her. With a forced smile, Kindall took a step forward. Damien had a few good inches on her, but she knew where true power came from. She stood straight, boring into him with her ice-blue eyes.

“When were you going to ask me?”

“I figured I’d bring it up once I tried it out,” he said. There was a slight quiver in his voice that Kindall caught. “You know, better to ask forgiveness than permission and stuff.”

“Things don’t work that way around here,” Kindall said. “I am always open to suggestions, and I love to hear new ideas during the planning phase. But we are well past that and, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the ordering phase. You can’t add new items to an order at the last minute. It goes against the plan we’ve worked hard to create.”

Damien raised his hands in surrender, taking a few steps back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It won’t happen again, Miss Armstead.”

“See that it doesn’t.” She offered him a more polite smile before turning on her heel and heading back toward her office.

“Did you have to be so mean to him?” Laura asked, jogging to keep pace with Kindall.

“Yes, I did. He’s new and needs to learn how things work around here.” Kindall shut down her tablet. “I can’t afford to have a wild card on my team, and that’s what he’s turning out to be. You just want me to be nice because you think he’s cute.”

“That’s not true,” Laura argued, but the slight pink in her cheeks gave her away. “Whenever you’re done establishing the pecking order, I’ll be ready for your lists.”

“And what makes you think there will be lists?”

“I don’t know, working directly under you for the past few years?” Laura held out her hand.

“They’re in my desk,” Kindall said. She rolled her eyes, shoving the glass door to her office open with her shoulder. “I don’t know why you’re judging me for this. The dinner is in less than three weeks, and I’ll be gone for two of them.”

“But you’ve already done most of the work. We just need to follow the plan, which we know how to do.”

“If there’s an emergency, though, you’ll have this.” She pulled out a pink folder and handed it to Laura. “Just in case you can’t get in touch with me.”

Laura took the folder and flipped through the pages before tucking it under her tablet. “Anything else I need to know?”

Kindall looked down at her watch. Only half an hour to go. “That’s it. Just keep things running like I’m still here, and we should be okay.”

Laura stood up with a nod and headed for the door.

“And, Laura? Don’t flirt with the new guy while I’m away. I won’t be here to keep you in check.”

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, scrunching her nose. “Have fun in paradise without me.”

Kindall laughed to herself, booting up her monitor for one last look at her emails. She found it hard to stay on task, her focus always drifting back down to the bottom corner of the screen, watching the minutes tick by. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to leave a little early. She had to finish packing, after all.

It hadn’t been easy to convince her to take a vacation. The order had come directly from Jade Alexander herself, and it had been Laura who had chosen the destination. Kindall would be spending the next fourteen days on a beach in the Bahamas, drinking as much as she wanted and definitely not planning any events.

She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes for a moment. She could already smell the salt water and feel the sun against her skin. This vacation was going to cure her. For some reason, ever since the wedding, she’d felt drained and tired all the time. She was determined to leave her tablet at her apartment and try to get through the enormous stack of unread books on her shelves.

A knock on her door shook her from her musings about how many books she could cram into her suitcase. Jade Alexander stepped inside and shut the door behind her. She was dressed very casually for a weekday and Kindall couldn’t help being a little curious.

“Are you ready to go?” Jade asked, taking the seat Laura had left pulled out. Her jeans and T-shirt were stained with dry paint and her black hair was piled into a messy bun.

“I will be by tonight,” Kindall said. She gestured to Jade’s clothes. “What’s going on there?” she asked.

“We’re remodeling the penthouse,” Jade explained. “It felt too modern, so I thought I’d spruce it up a bit. But that’s not important. What is important is making sure you take time to relax and take care of yourself, right?”

“Yes, it’s very relaxing to have my career threatened by my boss,” Kindall joked.

“I never threatened you,” Jade said. “Besides, I think this will be good for you. Trust me. I’m not doing this as your boss. I’m doing it as your friend.” Jade stood up and stretched. “Well, have fun, and when you get back, I might get your opinions on the redesign.”

“I’d like that,” Kindall said. Jade’s style was vastly different from her own, but she was excited to see what her friend had come up with.

It wasn’t long before five o’clock rolled around and Kindall shut down her computer. She packed her tablet in her bag and stopped herself before she grabbed some of the folders from her desk. No more work, she reminded herself. Not for two weeks.

Getting into the elevator knowing that she had left something behind ate at her insides. She longed to go back and grab the papers. But she made it down to the garage in one piece and walked to her car with her head held high.

It wasn’t until she sat buckled into the driver’s seat that she practiced her breathing exercises. She was addicted to her work and knew it. She wasn’t about to change that, but she had to cope with it in her own way. Kindall started the car and pulled out of the garage onto the cramped street.

Traffic was a mess as usual, but that had always been Kindall’s time to decompress after work. Then, when she got to her apartment, it was right back to work. It was a vicious cycle that had never been a problem until recently. She sat in her car, an orchestra of car horns muted around her, and called in a delivery. It was something she did often and, if she timed it just right, her meal would be delivered minutes after she walked through the door.

She scrolled mindlessly through her phone, keeping an eye on the car ahead of her as a podcast ran in the background. A notification dropped down from the top of her screen with Clint’s name in bold letters. As usual when she got a message from him, she got a weird fluttery feeling in her stomach. Those unwelcome feelings from September had waned, but her body liked to remind her of them when she got a text or call from Clint.

She opened the message and was greeted by a picture of a beautiful smiling dog. He was sitting in front of a purple-flowered bush, his black, caramel and white fur shining in the sunlight and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. It was Rover, Clint’s Bernese Mountain dog, and Kindall was accustomed to getting a new picture of him every couple of days.

It had been awkward at first. Clint had been in New York for several weeks but Kindall had only met him in passing. It wasn’t until after the wedding that they’d decided to spend one night together, the night before he would leave for Texas. Kindall had never kept in contact with any of her one-night stands before. She and Clint had discovered that they didn’t have much in common, but conversation was easy. Although there was the occasional flirtation—usually on Clint’s end—they had become good friends and she looked forward to their talks. If only she could get rid of the butterflies…

Kindall finally arrived at her apartment building and swiped her key card to get into the garage. Each day she returned home more tired than the last. The idea of a vacation grew on her by the second. On her way up, she ran into the delivery man, the same one she saw every time she ordered tacos, and he handed over her bag.

As soon as she unlocked the door, Kindall’s phone buzzed in her hand. A picture of Clint lit up the screen and she struggled to open the door and press ‘accept’ at the same time. She shut the door with her hip as she aimed the camera at her face. Clint was already smiling at her from the screen.

“Bad time?” he asked, his voice echoing through the speaker.

“Not exactly,” Kindall said, setting her work bag on the floor. “I just wasn’t expecting you to call today. What’s the occasion?”

“You know me. I don’t need a reason to do anything.” He sat down on the couch, the camera shaking slightly. “I’m spontaneous like that.”

“I’m aware.” Kindall shifted the phone to her other hand, emptying the contents of her food-delivery bag on the counter. “Hey, since I have you here, do you think it’s weird when a taco delivery man knows you by apartment number and name?”

“I think that’s a sign you order from that restaurant too much,” Clint said.

“You could be right. So, what’s going on?” she asked, picking up one of the small boxes of noodles. “Why the random call?”

“Can’t I just call my friend to check in on her?” he asked. He readjusted on the couch, lying back so that his hair spread on the cushion like a halo. She’d told him before that it was past time for a haircut, but he always said he didn’t have enough time. “How are things at work?”

“Busy,” she said, “but that’s nothing new. The dinner’s pretty much planned, though, so it should go smoothly from here on out. What about you?”

“We’re not too far off from your situation,” he said. “You know we have the festival coming up, right?”

“I remember you saying something about it,” Kindall said, lounging back on her own couch with the box of takeout balanced on her leg. Normally, she would eat in her home office while getting some work done.

“Well, we’ve hit a little snag and”—Clint shoved his hair back from his forehead—“I was wondering if I could get some advice from you.” He looked a little embarrassed to ask, but Kindall thought it was adorable.

“I’m always here to offer advice,” she said, “but hasn’t your mom been doing this for years? Why would you need my help?” Even through the screen, she could see his distress. There was more going on that he wasn’t telling her.

“We’re just a little behind, that’s all,” he said. “The bones are there, and Mama and Bobby have most of it together, but—”

“But something’s happened.” Kindall took a bite. She would patiently wait for him to explain himself before she helped.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about.” Clint wasn’t looking at the screen. He was focused on the ceiling above him. “There are some problems, but I just need to make sure this festival happens.” He paused, chewing at his bottom lip. “It might be the last one we have.”

Kindall sat up straight. From the way Clint talked about the Donnes’ annual festival, it had been the highlight of his life since he had been little. It was more than a family tradition for him. “What’s happening, Clint?”

Clint began to move through his house, the camera shaking with each step.

“It’s really not a big deal.” The screen went dark for a second until he flipped on a light. “My parents aren’t doing well. Like, they’re going to be splitting up after the festival.”

“Holy crap.” Kindall had not seen that coming. “What happened?”

“Like I said, it’s nothing you need to worry about. But I need this year’s festival to work. I need to feel like my family isn’t falling apart, you know?” He covered his mouth, his brown eyes far away. “I just need some advice so I can know what to talk about with Bobby.”

Kindall could only imagine what he was going through. Her childhood had been vastly different from Clint’s, but she could tell he was in a lot of pain. Pain was something she knew. She looked over at the counter where her ticket to a tropical island sat next to her bag.

“I’ll do you one better,” she finally said. “You don’t just need advice. You need a friend. I’ll be on a plane first thing tomorrow morning.”

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About the Author

Lori Fayre

Lori Fayre was born and raised in a small South Georgia town. Her debut novel, “The Devil’s Maverick”, was a novel nearly six years in the making. An obsessive consumer of romance, Lori knew it was the only genre for her. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, drawing, or binging Hulu with her husband and Yorkie.

You can find Lori on Twitter and at her website here.

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Twelve Days of Murder By Jason Wrench

General Release Date: 23rd November 2021

Word Count: 65,722
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 257
Genres:

CHRISTMAS
CRIME
CRIME AND MYSTERY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
MEN IN UNIFORM
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

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Book Description

The holidays are hard enough for widowed NYC detective Frank Schultt without the gifts of a Christmas serial killer and a handsome FBI criminalist.

On the first day of Christmas, a serial killer gave to me, twelve holiday murders…

A killer is on the loose in New York City during the Christmas holidays and it’s up to NYC Detective Frank Schultt and his partner to figure out who the killer is and put a stop to it.

Five years before, during the Christmas season, the widowed detective had found his husband shot dead in a liquor store robbery. He’s finally on the mend and trying to get his life and career back on track, but this case might prove too much for his recovery.

A mysterious FBI criminalist named Aaron Massey is assigned to help him solve the crimes, but the witty and attractive profiler raises feelings in Frank that he doesn’t know how to handle.

Can Aaron help Frank break through his emotional walls fast enough to stop the killings, solve the case and fall in love before Christmas?

Reader advisory: This book contains vivid descriptions of crime scenes and body parts, plus a hostage scene with a shooting, references to drug addiction, trafficking and implied sexual abuse of children.

Excerpt

Mornings were never something Frank looked forward to. His usual routine consisted of waking up at around six a.m. and heading over to Club H, a couple of blocks from his walkup apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. Club H had all the trappings of a top-notch gay bar—pumping rhythms commonly heard at circuit parties, guys cruising each other left and right, hot, fit men as far as the eye could see. But Frank wasn’t interested in any of those. Frank came to Club H for its intended purpose—to work out. This particular morning would have to be cut short, as Frank was meeting his best friend Logan for breakfast before heading over to the precinct.

Frank arrived at the gym and stored his stuff in an available locker, noting the locker number in his head. 101… That shouldn’t be too hard to remember. He grabbed his iPhone, found the first free treadmill and started jogging. Frank found the early morning ritual a great way to clear his head. He increased the speed and incline, losing himself in his workout. He looked around at some of the younger guys in the gym. Many were over in the free-weight section, lifting weights with partners in an erotic exchange of muscle and steel. Frank had long ago realized that being ripped was less important than being healthy.

When Frank had been in the academy, one of his classmates—a tall, brutish guy named Theo—had stood out because of his bulging muscles and neck thicker than a Christmas ham. Unfortunately, the guy had ended up having a heart attack during his second week, due to having no cardiovascular ability at all. Sure, he may have made the Incredible Hulk a little jealous, but, as a cop, Frank had become aware that brawn didn’t get anyone very far if it wasn’t equally matched with stamina.

Frank looked around the room and nodded politely to some guys he’d known over the years. Jerry was over in the corner with his new boyfriend, Seth. Frank had met Jerry about three years ago in a back room at The Eagle, an NYC bar that catered to people looking for edgier sexual experiences. After Adam had been murdered in the liquor-store burglary almost five years earlier, Frank had tried to find solace in a range of sexual fetishes. As each one failed to make him feel whole, he’d moved on to something even edgier. He’d also started doing some light drugs and graduated to crystal meth, fearing each day he’d be randomly drug tested. He was good at keeping up appearances at work and never did drugs that required a needle.

His wake-up call had happened while sitting in a trailer getting ready for a porn shoot he’d impulsively agreed to do. He’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and just hadn’t liked what was looking back. His body, while still in shape, had just looked worn down. His eyes were sunken into his head and his cheekbones were visible. He’d looked like a slightly healthier version of an Egyptian mummy. In that one glimpse, he’d seen more than his physical appearance. He’d seen his future. The one porn shoot could easily get him censured or thrown out of the NYPD altogether. Frank had grabbed his duffle bag and headed home. He’d told no one he was leaving. He’d just left.

He’d gone right from the porn set to his Chief’s office and admitted he had a problem with drugs. Since Frank had come in voluntarily, the NYPD had allowed him to enter rehab and he’d never been disciplined. Still, he’d been required to receive random drug tests regularly for a year to ensure he wasn’t relapsing. That had been a year and a half ago, and Frank had thrown himself into getting straightened out physically.

After finishing his six-mile run, he grabbed his towel and iPhone and hit the showers. Although showers in most gyms took on a certain homoerotic quality, Club H’s were notorious for hookups. Frank had learned long ago to just go in, shower and pay no attention to anyone around him. He toweled off and got dressed, throwing his dirty gym clothes into his duffle bag. As he was leaving, he heard two guys having sex in the steam room. He thought about warning them that Club H was a public space and that sex was technically illegal there but decided it wasn’t worth his time.

As Frank exited Club H, the cold morning air hit his warm face like a thousand little icicles. Frank pulled out his cell phone and dialed Logan’s number. “You up and at ‘em yet?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m already at the Midtown Diner.”

“Great. I just got out of the gym, so I should be there in ten minutes. Order me the usual.”

“Sure thing.”

Frank hung up his cell phone, putting his AirPods in his ears. “Siri, check messages.” A female electronic voice informed him that he had zero new messages. Frank had Siri play his favorite podcast as he continued trekking down East Forty-Third Street, crossing Broadway and heading toward Central Park. Frank liked it when he was by himself, alone in his head, taking in the early morning rush that was Midtown at eight a.m. Midtown had more foot traffic by that time than most cities did in an entire day.

Ahead, Frank recognized the yellow-and-purple awning, the entryway to the Midtown Diner. Frank and Logan often met there for breakfast, as it was near both Frank’s precinct and Logan’s law office. Logan and Frank had been friends at the Leysin American School in Switzerland. It was a boarding high school. Frank’s parents owned Schultt Pharmaceuticals and had sent Frank there since both of them had been too busy with their own lives to worry about their son. When he’d graduated from high school, Frank had come back to the States and gone to Yale, where he’d majored in business, the heir apparent to the Schultt empire. Instead, Frank had come out right after graduation and his family had disowned him. The blowup had happened when Frank had told his father he was gay. Those had been the last words Frank had ever spoken to his folks. He’d dropped off the map for a while, moved to New York, got a master’s degree in Criminal Justice from New York University, joined the academy and the rest was history.

Frank took off his coat and hung it on a peg inside the door as he entered the diner. He looked around and found Logan sitting at a table reading The New York Times.

“How’s my favorite useless attorney?”

“I’m not useless. Real-estate law is an important branch of law in this town, mister.”

“Oh yes, helping all those fat cats who own this city get richer and richer while the lower and middle classes end up committing crimes just to make it by.”

“Dear God, what a sob story. Just because you think everything is a matter of who’s getting screwed and who’s screwing, don’t bring my job into it.” Logan looked at Frank and smiled, likely knowing full well that this would hardly be the last time this little conversation would occur. “So, any hot guys at the gym today?”

“Remember Jerry?”

“The leather dude?”

“That’s the one. Well, he was there with his newest ‘thing’.” Frank always told Logan everything that was going on in his life, even the seedier parts. Unlike most people, Logan never outwardly judged. Frank could tell when Logan wasn’t happy with him, and Frank never wanted to hurt or disappoint him. So, when he did, he knew he’d screwed up royally.

The waitress arrived at the table and put a plate with two pieces of bacon, two eggs and two sausage links in front of Frank. She came back a minute later and freshened Logan’s cup of coffee.

“So, Frank, how are you doing? I know you don’t want to talk about it, but dammit, I’m your best friend and have the right to be concerned.”

“Logan, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Well, we’re creeping up on the fifth anniv—”

“I know, so drop it.” Ever since Adam’s murder, Frank had kept that part of his past bottled inside, refusing to release it. Once or twice a year, Logan would check in and see if Frank was ready to open up, but he never was.

“Oh, I was watching It’s a Wonderful Life last night with Ben. He says ‘hi’, by the way.”

“How’s that new show of his going?”

“Well, the soap is officially canceled. Apparently, America wasn’t ready for a daytime science-fiction soap opera.”

“Even hearing you talk about it sounds like a bad idea.”

“I know… Tell me about it. But Ben was so proud of being on another soap. Anyway, he has been cast in the off-Broadway revival of Arthur Bicknell’s Moose Murders.”

“Now, I’m not exactly a Broadway aficionado, but what the hell is that?”

“Yeah, that was my response. Apparently, it was some play from the 1990s that was a huge flop. I googled it. The story sucks and should never have been revived, but I’ve got to be supportive, nonetheless.”

Frank laughed and choked on his coffee. “So, why’d you bring up It’s a Wonderful Life?”

“Oh, Ben and I always watch it a couple of times each Christmas season and again on Christmas…” He realized what he’d just said to Frank. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot for a moment…”

“It’s okay. I hate that film. It’s so fucking sappy. Every time a bell rings an angel has its wings ripped off and is bludgeoned to death.”

“Well, hello, Scrooge McScrooge. Talk about jaded.”

Frank was about to make a comeback when his pants pocket vibrated. He pulled out his phone. “I’ve got to get this,” he told Logan. “Detective Schultt… Oh, hey, Jasika… There’s a what? At FAO Schwarz? Okay, I’ll be there in about ten minutes, depending on how many tourists get in my way.”

“What was that about?” questioned Logan.

“They’ve found a body part over at FAO Schwarz, hung like a Christmas ornament. You call me jaded. I may hate this fucking holiday, but at least I’m not hiding body parts in a toy store.” Frank took out his wallet and threw down enough cash to cover his meal and coffee. “I’ll talk to you later.” With that, Frank turned and headed toward the door, grabbing his coat as he walked back outside into the December cold.

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About the Author

Jason Wrench

Jason Wrench is a professor in the Department of Communication at SUNY New Paltz and has authored/edited 15+ books and over 35 academic research articles. He is also an avid reader and regularly reviews books for publishers in a wide number of genres. This book marks his first full-length work of fiction.

Find out more about Jason at his website.

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Best Player by Jaqueline Snowe

Book 3 in the Cleat Chasers series

General Release Date: 16th November 2021

Word Count: 77,372
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 297

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
SPORTS

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Book Description

Falling for my brother’s best friend is not an option—right?

Kenzie Hill needs a place to stay the summer before college, so when a spot opens up at her brother Aaron’s ‘baseball’ house, she accepts. Living with a bunch of dudes who walk around shirtless won’t distract her—she has plans and nothing will get in her way. Not even her brother’s best friend.

Tanner Johnson has one thing on his mind—his future in the MLB. After choosing to wait another year before entering the draft, he now dedicates every second to getting better on the field, or letting loose. His best friend’s sister shouldn’t even register on his radar.

The first kiss is an accident and the second leads to more. They agree it’ll just be a fling and that Aaron can never know. Kenzie’s just starting her future, while Tanner’s is already planned.

Falling for her brother’s best friend was never an option—but what happens when suddenly, it is?

Reader advisory: This book was previously released by Finch Books.

Excerpt

Leaving the home I’d grown up in—the house packed with every memory I had—hurt more than I’d anticipated. My throat burned each time I held back emotion, but it wouldn’t do any of us good to mention the overwhelming worry and sadness. We couldn’t afford wasted sentiments when every second of every day we worried about our dad—fighting cancer wasn’t a single person’s battle. It took all our efforts.

“I can’t believe our baby girl is going away to college,” my dad said from the front seat of the old navy mini-van that smelled like used sports gear. He craned his neck and gave me a weak smile. I returned the gesture, hoping I hid the bubbling anxiety growing in my chest, and raised my fists in the air.

“Yay!”

He coughed, the sound better than it used to be, but I still tensed every time I heard it. Each breath he took was a struggle. “While I’m not thrilled you’re going to be living with Aaron and two of his teammates for the summer, they seem to be decent young men. They’re better now than they were his freshman year. Good lord, they were hellions. But he promised he’d take care of you for us.”

“Dad,” I mumbled. “Come on.”

“I mean it. Your mom and I are going to be hours away trying out different treatment facilities. Someone needs to look out for you, K-Bug.”

I will not cry. Nope. I will not. “I’ll be fine. Really. I’ve been looking forward to college for years.”

“But not everyone goes two months early…” My mom let the words hang and our eyes met in the rearview mirror. Hers were tired and gray. My heart hurt for her and how strong she’d been for all of us. She’d been our family rock forever and while the thought of being away from them was freeing, it also left a hole.

“It’s better like this, I promise. It’ll be a good way for me to get acclimated to the campus and I signed up for two classes already. Introduction to Film and Online Biology. Both sound awful, but it’ll help me get ready for my hard schedule this fall.”

“K-Bug, you’ve never had to worry about grades. You’re our smart girl,” my dad said, not hiding his pride. Another wave of gratitude went through me. Despite Aaron’s insane athletic abilities, my parents had never once made me feel less important or talented. Not once. The world needed more of them and the gratitude switched to anger at the injustice of my dad getting sick.

It wasn’t fair.

But showing my internal battle would do none of us any good on the already emotional day. I swallowed down the grief and worry, plastered a smile on my face and spoke with a practiced enthusiasm that I’d mastered with all the hospital visits. “I’m just excited for the newness. New friends, new experiences, new things to learn and new mistakes to make. I’ve always heard about how college is this life-changing experience of fun, embarrassing stories and the place where you meet lifelong friends. I want that. I’m ready for it.”

“Then that’s what you’re going to do.” My dad’s voice held a finality to it and we all remained quiet for the rest of the drive. The campus was about two hours away from our childhood home—the house my parents had sold—and the moment we left the driveway that morning was the last time I’d set foot there. It was an odd combination to experience—utter excitement about what was next, and longing for what used to be. My constant battle was defining myself. I had always been Aaron’s younger sister. The daughter. The girlfriend.

I wanted to be me.

College was my answer.

“Honey, we’re going to stop and get some shakes. Would you like anything?” my mom inquired as she pulled into a fast-food place. My dad had a softness for milkshakes and we’d made an unspoken agreement that when he wanted one, he got one.

“Yeah, I’ll get a coffee. Want me to run in and buy one?”

“That’d be great, K-Bug.”

They handed me a twenty-dollar bill and I grabbed my phone before heading inside the diner. The humid air was hard to swallow, but it was a brief escape from the confines of the car. My dad got cold real fast, so we couldn’t have the air on too high. I fanned myself, moving the end of my old jersey-shirt to get air on my midriff. Sweat dripped down my muscles and a cold milkshake sounded perfect. I ordered—my mom preferred chocolate, my dad mint-cookie and I always got banana.

My phone went off and I almost ignored it, since my ex-boyfriend had thought it a great time to reconcile after our disastrous prom weekend. No thanks, Sean. That ship sailed. But it wasn’t him. It was Aaron, my ridiculous, awesome and obnoxious older brother.

Aaron: Yo, you almost here?

Kenzie: Stopped for milkshakes. Maybe fifteen minutes out.

Aaron: Coach just called and wants to meet me at the field—Tanner is here though. He’ll help you unpack. That cool?

Kenzie: That’s fine. Mom and Dad will be pissed if they don’t see you though.

Aaron: I’ll try and be back in an hour. Coach knows they’re here but said this is important.

Kenzie: Okay, see you soon.

Aaron: No backing out now, kid. You absolutely sure about living here?

Kenzie: There’s no home to go back to. Yeah, I’m sure.

I didn’t expect a response from him, and the few minutes I had to wait for the shakes were spent thinking about my future roommates. Sure, it was only two months, but these guys had the personalities of celebrities.

Aaron—my brother who’d slept with countless ladies the past two years and suffered a sex scandal. Zade Willows—the all-star pitcher who had a fan club named after him. Tanner Johnson—the giant center fielder who could make girls faint with a wink. Yeah. It was going to be an adventure living with them until their fourth roommate, Jeff, got back from playing baseball overseas.

Me, the awkward kid without an ounce of athletic ability, was living in the baseball house in the center of Jockville. Life was funny sometimes.

“Order’s up!”

I thanked the hostess and carried the drinks back to the car. Too soon, we were pulling into the chipped driveway of my new temporary digs. White house, large porch that had seen better days, overgrown trees in the front and backyard and the door wide open. I pulled my long dark-blonde hair into a high messy bun and took one final breath.

College.

Adventure.

New.

“What’s up, Hill family?” Tanner’s voice boomed from him. He leaned against the front railing, his height almost putting his head on the roof of the house. His hair was midnight black and it spilled from his head in messy curls, but his light brown eyes were killer. Yeah, I had a little bitty crush on him after having met him a couple times over the past three years, but it was hard not to. He was my kryptonite—long eyelashes, mischievous grin, the perfect dimples and real tall with broad shoulders. I gave him a little wave, hoping I didn’t blush too much.

I was going to be living with him, so it didn’t bode well for anyone to know about my crush. “Hey, TJ.”

“Roomie, let me grab your stuff. Aaron had to head to the field, but he’ll be back. Good to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Hill.” He swaggered—it was the only way to describe it—to the car and gave both my parents a hug. It pleased me to see how good he was to my family. The warmth on the back of my neck had nothing to do with his fitted shirt and workout shorts that showcased how much time he spent in the gym.

“You’re too kind, Tanner. Really,” my mom gushed and I had to roll my eyes. Even she succumbed to his charm. She had to know how much he got around… I mean, he was one of two single guys who lived in the baseball house. I snorted into my fist and Tanner slid me a look.

“Laying it on thick there, TJ.”

“What? I can’t hug my second-favorite set of parents?” He dared to raise one beautiful dark eyebrow, challenging me to call him out. I did.

“They brought you all beer and homemade casserole for at least a week. You don’t need to suck up.”

His grin widened and, after patting my dad on the back, he walked to the trunk of the car to help get my five bags. It was sad that, moving into college, I only had five bags’ worth of stuff. That was one lesson learned after seeing my dad go through his struggle—material things didn’t matter all that much. Life was more about the experience.

He walked past me, smirking, and picked up two of the bags. “Come on, Kenny. Let me show you to your room.”

He didn’t lower his voice or do anything weird, but those words coming from his mouth sent a shiver down my body. I cleared my throat and picked up the final load. “After you, Johnson.”

My parents took their time bringing food into the small kitchen while I followed Tanner into the house and up the stairs. I had been there before, but only for a small amount of time where they could hide their craziness. Now, they’d let it all hang out. The mess, the dirty bathroom, the pile of useless things stacked in the corner. Why did they have a stack of empty boxes? And empty cups? They had a kitchen…why didn’t they use it?

He led me down the upstairs hallway. There were two rooms on each side, two with their own bathrooms, but I wasn’t that lucky. While Zade and Aaron across the hall had one each, Jeff and Tanner shared theirs. And Jeff’s was the room I was using…meaning I had to share a bathroom with Tanner Johnson.

Two months was going to be a long time.

“Okay, Kenny. Here’s Jeff’s room.” He opened the door and gave me a bemused look. “He’s the neatest out of all of us. I saw you scowl on the way up. We’re not total pigs.”

“I’ll just have to do some cleaning, that’s all.” Thank God I brought supplies.

He chuckled and dropped my large duffel bags on the beige carpet. I took a hesitant step inside the room and sniffed. Nothing smelled off and there weren’t any weird stains on the carpet.

“Did you just smell the room?”

“Yes, I did.” I jutted my chin out at him. “I’ve lived with Aaron. I know how smelly boys can be. It seems fine so far.”

“God, this is going to be fun.”

“I’m bursting with excitement,” I deadpanned.

It earned me another grin, showcasing his impressive dimples, and I scanned the rest of the room. The walls had various baseball posters of the team and MLB teams. The sheets had been stripped from the queen-sized bed and the dresser drawers opened and emptied. I placed my bag on the desk and spun around. Tanner watched me with a curious expression and I did not look at his mouth when his lips quirked up on one side.

“We need to talk about some ground rules.”

Shit. Butterflies formed in my gut and I felt foolish. I wasn’t sure what I’d thought he was going to say, but it wasn’t that. Crossing my arms, I scrunched my nose and asked, “About what?”

“Living here.” He stepped farther into the room and with that small action, the walls seemed to close around us. He took up so much space and his warmth crowded me. “I know you’re pretty chill from everything Hilly’s told us, but I want to get it all out in the open, you know?”

I bit my lip to prevent myself from smiling. Was he going to give me the talk? Holy shit. I hoped he was because I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. “Okay. I’m listening. Should I write this down?” I moved toward my backpack, but he shook his head.

“We share a wall and a bathroom. The foundation here isn’t great and I don’t plan on being a saint just because you’re here.” He winced and moved his hand to his neck, stress lines forming around his eyes. “I mean, I’ll be more discreet about it. I won’t…you don’t have to see anything.”

“Tanner, what are you talking about?” I asked, successfully keeping my face blank. He had to know what my life had been like with Aaron. Hell, everyone knew the baseball house was notorious for hooking up. I wasn’t dumb or naïve. But watching him struggle through this was worth it. “What do you mean by saint?”

“Christ,” he said, then rubbed his hand over his face. Gone was the playful expression—uneasiness replaced it. “I don’t want you uncomfortable, but you might run into girls who…spend the night.”

“Ohhh, you have a girlfriend?” I whistled, getting another worried look. “Do I get to meet her?”

“Kenzie.” His cheeks turned just a little bit red and I pressed my lips together to prevent breaking character. “You might hear…stuff. I don’t want you to… Shit. I don’t know how to do this. I didn’t think it through.”

“Okay, enough. I’ll stop.” I laughed and enjoyed the myriad expressions crossing his face. They ended in curiosity and I closed the distance between us so we stood a foot apart. “I know you’ll have hook-ups. That’s fine. All I ask is that she doesn’t hog the bathroom the morning after and that you don’t fuck too loud.”

He blinked. It was slow and telling, and I bit my lip, but it did no good. I burst out laughing at how uncomfortable he was and I hit his shoulder without real force. “I was messing with you before, but I appreciate you trying to warn me.”

“I thought—Aaron said… Never mind. I didn’t want to shock or upset you.”

His comment warmed me, but his use of my brother’s name did not. “Whatever warning Aaron gave you, forget it, okay? I’m not this naïve, innocent kid.”

“Okay.”

“Your tone doesn’t agree with your word.” I pursed my lips and gave him my best leveling stare. “Mean it.”

He gave me his signature crooked grin, narrowed those baby browns just a smidge and lowered his voice like a soccer coach. “Okay.”

We stood, not in a face-off or battle, but in a weird bubble of not really knowing the other person. He was the playboy with a bright future. I was the innocent younger sister of his best friend. Two months living with him, good or bad, would be an adventure, and my excitement for something new overshadowed the awkwardness. I held out my hand, grinning, and broke the tension that had formed in the last two minutes. “Thanks for letting me live here, roomie. I think we’re going to have a hell of a time.”

He placed his large hand against mine and shook, a slow smile forming on his too-handsome face. “I already regret agreeing to this.”

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About the Author

Jaqueline Snowe

Jaqueline Snowe lives in Arizona where the ‘dry heat’ really isn’t that bad. She enjoys making lists with colorful Post-it notes and sipping coffee all day. She has been a custodian, a waitress, a landscaper, a coach and a teacher. Her life revolves around binge-watching Netflix, her two dogs who don’t realize they aren’t humans and her wonderful baseball-loving husband.

You can take a look at Jaqueline’s Website and Blog and you can also follow her on Facebook and Twitter.

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