Guest Post | Blessing and Light by Kasia Bacon

Guest-Post

Today, Kasia Bacon is here to talk about her book Blessing and Light and to show us her cute characters.


Blessing and Light is an alternative winter holiday story, which I wrote for a charity event in 2017. This short book stands alone in the Order Universe.

It was a challenge I set to myself: to draft a tale under 5k words, yet make it into something complete, hopeful and atmospheric.

I’m delighted that—despite its brevity—Torýn and Sæbastyn’s story has become a favourite amongst the Order Universe readers. I have to confess that I genuinely enjoyed writing that piece.

Blessing and Light is still FREE on Amazon, Kobo, Apple Books and B&N.

An audiobook version (Whispersync for Voice-ready) is also available from Audible, beautifully narrated in a British accent by Michael Fox.

Blessing Audio

Behold the main characters—the captain and his orderly—as adorable chibis designed by talented Lilian (on Twitter).

Torbyn-Bastyn

BLESSING AND LIGHT

Blessing and LightIt’s the Night of Winter Lights. Heedless of the holiday, the Commander of the H’Aren fortress, Captain Torýn Torhdhar, seems to find his satisfaction in work.

Such occurrence hardly surprises his Orderly, Sæbastyn Hyago, even though the young Lieutenant has spent a silent, aching decade wishing his superior officer would pursue pleasure elsewhere—specifically in his arms. But as the evening continues, nothing about it meets Sæbastyn’s expectations. Will the Lieutenant see his secret desires realised, or his heart shattered?


order

A linguist and an avid reader with a particular fondness for fantasy and paranormal genres, KASIA BACON lives in London with her husband. When not tearing her hair out over a translating project, she writes stories about the shenanigans of emotionally constipated assassins and sexy Elves. Otherwise, she can be found shaking her loins at a Zumba class, binging on anime or admiring throwing knives on Pinterest. A lover of MMA and Muay Thai, she also enjoys nature and the great outdoors. She dreams of becoming independently wealthy, leaving the city and moving into her wooden mini-manor—located in the heart of stunning forests resembling those of the Elven Country depicted in her tales.

Find Kasia online:

Website
Amazon
Audible
BookBub
Twitter
Facebook
Instagram
 

For excerpts, free stories and updates about new projects, sign up for Kasia’s newsletter.

To access exlusive Order Universe content, join Bacon & Elves on Facebook.

Guest Post | Goldilocks and the Bear by Clare London

Guest-Post

Today, Clare London is here to talk about Goldilocks and the Bear. I love that cover so much. Every time I see it show up in the social media feeds, I smile. 


This may be the first year I can remember where I’m not fiercely excited for Christmas! I’m usually like a little kid, far more excited by the lights, the songs, the chocolates, and the smell of pine and mulled wine, than I actually am about the day itself. But, of course, 2020 has been a weird kind of year all round.

However, I still love Christmas romance stories! I wouldn’t miss publishing one of them, whatever else happens. And one of my favourites is GOLDILOCKS AND THE BEAR which I published a couple of years ago – but readers still seem to love. It’s a cheeky twist on the obvious fairytale, only with one large kindly man-bear, one weary, golden-haired café owner, and three trees of various sizes. I love a Christmas story with a mix of humour, romance, sexiness, and an eccentric cast of secondary performers!

In a more serious vein, I think I also love the Goldilocks message – which I take to mean that you may not find your perfect match at first try, or even second. But if you keep looking and keep trying, you may eventually find the one person who’s Just Right. Gil has been let down by his ex-boyfriend, he’s struggling to run his small business, and his expectation of Christmas is pretty low. Then Bruin pushes a huge Christmas tree through his shop doorway by mistake – and the Christmas magic of an unexpected encounter in this romantic season takes flight.

I hope GOLDILOCKS AND THE BEAR will be something you enjoy reading. And even if you don’t, let’s all raise a glass of something warming to toast the season, hope for better times ahead, and, like Gil and Bruin, practice the dogged determination that delivered them their romantic Happy Ever After!


Goldilocks and the Bear

One week, two men, three Christmas trees.

In the week before Christmas, Books ‘n’ Brews cafe owner Gil discovers his own version of a fairytale romance. His first meeting with handsome bear Bruin is over delivery of a Christmas tree that’s way too big. Their next flirtation is over a tree decoration that’s oh, so small. By the time Christmas Eve arrives, the pair of them are looking for something that’s… well… just right!

BUY LINK:

http://books2read.com/goldilocksbearcl and also in Kindle Unlimited.


Excerpt:

We both turned to stare at the tree behind him. The lower half, including the thick trunk, had come easily over the doorstep, but at some stage the netting that kept it in place had torn, and the branches had sprung free. They stretched either side of the doorway, at their full extent, and inside the café. One side reached half way up the open door, now pressed flat against the wall, and the other side had upended two chairs at a front table. Behind them, still on the pavement outside, the branches from further up the tree had mushroomed out like the upper half of an egg timer—with the café doorway as the squeezed middle. It was a magnificent tree: its needles shone a bright, clean green. The trunk was sturdy, copper-toned wood. The whole thing reeked of health and beauty and Christmas spirit.

And it was crushed up in my café’s doorframe until I was afraid the old wood would split asunder. I may even have heard it creak in protest.

The man-bear shook his head and shoved the delivery note back into his pocket. “Looks like they directed me to the wrong shop.”

“Well, obviously, because I never ordered it—”

“In fact,” Molly broke in. “Gil hasn’t ordered a tree at all this year.”

“No tree at all?” The giant man looked momentarily disconcerted—or was that disapproving? “You don’t like Christmas?”

“I like it well enough,” I muttered. “But as you can see, there’s little enough space here.” I could only afford this small unit on the outskirts of a small Essex shopping mall. It was last Christmas’ gift to myself, the best I could do when Paulie, my partner—in business and romance—had scarpered with most of my savings to set up a bar in Ibiza. Without me, in either capacity. But life has to go on, right? I just downsized my dreams from our swish supper club venue to my small local café. After installing the counter and display cases, and covering two of the other walls with bookshelves for the romance novels I loved to read and share with customers, there wasn’t much room left for tables and chairs, let alone ambitious decorations.

Over the giant’s left shoulder, I could see old Mr. Brooke hopping from one foot to another as he peered into the shop past the branches. He was a creature of habit, and he always had his caramel latte at this time of the afternoon. If he could get into the café, that was. Behind me, a half-dozen members of the Women’s Institute Book Club stirred restlessly, and two pre-school boys had wriggled out of their mothers’ clutches and were gleefully stabbing a pile of paper napkins with a stray pine stalk.

“So. Anyway. You have to do something about this!” My voice seemed to be higher than usual.

He shrugged, his grin now rueful. “Not a lot I can do, at the moment. It’s well and truly stuck.” He tugged on the trunk as if to convince me further and, yes, I definitely heard the doorframe creak. “Should have realised the measurements didn’t add up. All I can do is apologise and arrange to have someone come and cut it out as soon as possible.” He rummaged in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. His fingers darted over the keys as fast as any teenager, sending a quick message. My gaze was still fixed on the backs of his hands—strong, with more than a smattering of dark hair over the lower digits—when I realised what he’d said.

“But it can’t stay there! My customers can’t get out—”

“I can open the back door,” Molly offered helpfully, or not, as the case may be.

“—and no one can get in, either. This is Christmas week, with all the passing trade from shoppers. I have a full schedule of seasonal events, and those new snowflake cupcakes on offer!”

The man’s pupils dilated. “There are cupcakes?”

For God’s sake. Again. Was no one taking this crisis seriously?


About Clare:

Clare London took her pen name from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with her other day job as an accountant.

She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with award-winning novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters.

Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter-three stage and plenty of other projects in mind… she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.

Clare loves to hear from readers, and you can contact her on all her social media.

Website: http://www.clarelondon.com
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/clarelondonNews
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/clarelondonauthor
Twitter: @clare_london
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/clarelondon
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/clarelondon
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/clare-london
Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/clarelondon11

X-mas Read | The Porcelain Santa

X-mas-read

Flash fiction anyone? I used to write a lot of flash fiction, but it’s been ages since I did now. The Porcelain Santa is something I wrote waaaayyyy back in 2014, so I don’t dare to read it LOL

Some lovely people put together a holiday blog hop where everyone participating should write a story under the LGBTQIA+ umbrella with less than 3000 words including: 

• A winter holiday theme

• A “bad boy” character

• A gift of some kind

Below, you can read what I wrote.

Porcelain

The Porcelain Santa

Sprawled on the window seat, I watched the snow falling outside. I love this time of year, love the preparations, the anticipation, and the serenity that comes with Christmas. The cup in my hand warmed my skin, and my flat smelled of candles and holiday biscuits. Even the normally depressing courtyard outside my window could’ve starred as a motif on a Christmas card with the glistening snow that clung to every surface. I closed my eyes with a content sigh…and heard the all too familiar noise of a snowmobile. Flying up into a sitting position, I made the tea in my cup spill over the rim and onto my fingers. The snowmobile was skidding over the yard—messing up the untouched snow. That fucking idiot! Why did he always have to destroy everything?

I glared at Zach through the window, he knew I was there of course, and he turned to give me a cheeky smile before heading for the front door. Bastard! I blew out the candles and stomped out to the kitchen where I poured the remaining tea down the sink. Since the day he’d moved in, he’d ruined things for me. Always loud, always there, always so fucking handsome. I wanted to strangle him.

¤¤¤

I might have stayed a little longer than usual in bed the following morning, and I might have taken a little longer to eat my breakfast, but no matter how much I delayed it, I had to go to work—my last workday before the holiday.

Zach always went before I did, about eight minutes before. But today he was late. I sighed, making the glass in the peephole fog. Finally, I saw his door open on the other side of the hallway. I closed my eyes and counted to a hundred before I opened my door, sauntered down the eight steps, and went outside with a quick look around. Zach was nowhere to be seen, I could’ve sagged in relief.

“Hey, Benji! Wait up!” Where the hell had he been hiding? I gave him an icy stare. His confident grin made me want to smack him. Or kiss him. Either or. Those warm dark eyes glowed, and I just loved the way his black hair became a curly mess when it got a little too long. The knitted cap he wore today hid most of his curls, and it infuriated me that I felt disappointed for being unable to see them.

“You shouldn’t be walking in this weather. Come on let me drive you to work.”

“I’m not getting on that snowmobile,” I exclaimed appalled.

His lips twitched as he fought a laugh. “I do have a car, you know.”

I hadn’t known that. He was on that damned Ski-Doo all the time. “Then why do you ride that thing?”

“Because you’re pretty when you’re angry.” I gaped at him. The nerve! I was not pretty, and I did not get angry. I was hardly ever angry! “See, like that,” he said, and I swear his eyes twinkled. “Come on, I drive past your work anyway.”

“How would you know where I work?”

Zach raised a brow. “You work at Simon’s, everyone knows that.”

Everyone did not know that, hardly anyone knew that. Of course, people knew that I worked there, it’s a café and people aren’t blind, but…

We reached the garage, and it turned out Zach did have a car. “Here, let me take your bag.” He took it and held the passenger door open. I squinted at him before climbing in. He took an awfully long time walking around the car, and once he started driving, he was looking more at me than on the traffic. “So, Benji, where will you be spending Christmas?”

“At home,” I grumbled.

“Not going anywhere?”

“No.”

“Not having anyone over?”

“No.” I didn’t look at him. Since he kept looking at me, I felt the need to keep my eyes on the road.

“Why don’t you talk to me?

“Have nothing to say.”

Zach nodded. “We’ll change that.”

I snorted, relieved that we’d reached Simon’s. Jumping out of the car I noticed Zach doing the same. I frowned as he handed me my backpack. I can’t believe I forgot it.

“See you later,” Zach said with a kind of smile I hadn’t seen before. What was he up to? His eyes were soft, but that grin made me cautious. I nodded and went to work.

¤¤¤

The smile that had played on my lips the entire way home from work, died when I unlocked the front door. My hand-painted porcelain Santa Claus was crushed, there were tiny pieces all over the hallway floor.

Someone had been in my flat! My stomach clenched as I peered into the living room. No one there.

That’s when I noticed a box of chocolate on the hall table where the Santa had been. A note was sticking out of it. I took it and read, “I have a gift for you. Love Zach.”

I stared at it, stared at the broken Santa, and swung around. That fucking bastard! I stomped over to his flat and banged on the door. He opened it, a look of uncertainty flitted across his face before his usual confident grin took over.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“I…er…I was gonna leave you a box of chocolate.”

“So you picked my lock?”

“Well, yeah. You really should get a tumbler lock.”

“What the fuck, Zach!”

“Yeah…but, I wanted to give you something tonight, so when I had the chance by the car this morning, I slipped your calendar out of your bag—only to make sure you’d be free. I picked your lock to leave the note, I never meant to break the china thing!”

“Why would you do such a thing?” My jaw ached from how hard I was grinding my teeth.

“To make you come over here.”

“Why would I come over here?”

“To have dinner with me.” He stepped aside to show a beautifully set table with candles and white lilies. “But now I realise that we need to go down to the novelty shop to get you a new porcelain thing.”

“Was my calendar the gift you were referring to in the note,” I groused, annoyed with myself for not being angrier with him.

His nose crinkled. “Of course not! That was just to check if you were free.”

“So…dinner is the gift?”

“Yeah…well, I was thinking…kinda like…er…I’m the gift.”

I felt my eyes go wide. “You’re the gift?”

“Yeah, look I have a ribbon and everything.” He started to unbutton his jeans.

“Zach!” He looked up and winked. “That’s so fucking lame,” I breathed and felt my face warm.

He smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m serious. I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“What the hell are you playing at?”

“Oh, come on, baby. You’re not that blind, are you? I like you. I want you.”

“But, you’re always making me angry.”

“Noo, I always make you notice me.” He leaned in, his breath ghosted over my skin. He lingered there, his lips almost touching mine. I heard myself whimper. He kissed me then, holding me close while exploring my mouth. I moaned, and his lips stretched into a smile. “Come on, let’s go buy you a new figurine.”

I nodded, a little dazed. He blew out the candles, grabbed his jacket, put his hand down the front of his jeans, and pulled out a red ribbon that he tossed into his flat before closing the door behind us.

The End