Guest Post | The Night Bartender by Alexa Piper

Guest-Post

Today, Alexa Piper is on a visit, and she’s here to share a little about The Night Bartender. Welcome, Alexa!

The Things We Wish For 

December is for wishes, whether it be gifts we desire or things we hope for in the next year. And sometimes, we are given things we never knew to wish for. 

Take Aaron for example. He seems to have everything a person could want: he’s good-looking, a powerful witch, and his family is rich. He goes to wintry Fairview to look for a missing girl. 

Then there’s Ilya. Ilya’s a bartender who likes his job. He’s also a banshee and mildly psychic, but he doesn’t tell people about that, because it makes him a target, desirable for his skill. 

These two men run into each other, and while the reason for their meeting isn’t a happy one, they do get something out of it: each other. But not without a fight. Not without a risk. Not without some on-page steam you don’t want to miss. 

Meet Aaron and Ilya this holiday season in The Night Bartender

The Night Bartender_2

Excerpt:

The Night Bartender (Fairview Chronicles 9)

Alexa Piper

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2021 Alexa Piper

Aaron buried his hands in his coat pockets and gave the bleak Fairview midday sky a hard look. Not that the sky gave much of a damn. It was late November, just after the Thanksgiving weekend, and for most of the morning, it had sleeted in a way Aaron had never before experienced in his life. It was like a hot shower, except the cold, freezing water got all the way through to your skin and passed the cold to every inch of your body.

“Damn city just might be cursed with bad weather,” Aaron mumbled as he walked along a street in the Old Town, which should lead him to a bar friendly to the not-quite-human clientele if his online research skills hadn’t failed him. A deep black cloud caught his attention. It zapped across the horizon as if blown by a particularly vicious breeze. Aaron frowned before he picked up his pace. The sooner I’m done here, the sooner I can go back to Morrowvale where November doesn’t suck so bad your balls want to freeze off in surrender, he thought.

In all honesty, Fairview wasn’t a bad place. The city itself was nice enough. The parks and trees here littered the streets with the bones of leaves turning to sludge in the puddles left from the earlier sleet showers, and the people, while ignoring both other people and the suck-tastic weather, dressed a little nicer than the average Morrowvaler. Aaron had also never had Japanese food as good as he’d had an hour ago in a small, unassuming place he’d accidentally walked into, at least not outside Japan. That counted for something, at least in Aaron’s book.

Traffic was in what passed for a bit of a midday lull in Fairview. The honking had ebbed to a not-eardrum-shattering noise, and Aaron managed to cross the street without it feeling like he was gambling with his life.

The Ragdoll was a basement bar, and if Aaron hadn’t been looking for it, he probably would have missed the small neon sign that was either broken or just off this early in the day. A wrought-iron fence further hid the sign and the door, which lay at the bottom of a flight of stairs. This could be a private gambling den or the hideout of a bunch of Russian spies, Aaron thought.

He walked down the stairs and pulled the door open just as another sleet shower was getting ready to wash the streets and everyone walking outside with icy wetness. Aaron shivered as he crossed the threshold and blinked into the softly lit bar.

Last week’s Thanksgiving paper turkeys and fall-colored garlands were still up, though a busboy collected the decorations into a cardboard box labeled “Turkey Day” in black sharpie. There were no Russian spies and no gambling going on here.

Surprisingly, there were several patrons in the bar this early in the day. Aaron spotted a handful starting their day’s drinking early, but most nursed mugs of coffee or were digging into sandwiches which, admittedly, looked better than was right in a basement bar. Judging by their business suits, those were just office workers who knew where the good sandwiches were at. The music was pop, playing just loud enough to offer background noise without becoming obnoxious. This place, despite the outward appearance, looked hip, trendy even. Fucking Fairview. This city is as confusing as a clown at a dinner party, Aaron thought.

Aaron’s fingers closed around the talisman in his pocket. With his touch and the smallest pinch of magic, he felt the worked metal coin activate and the spell bound to it sizzle to life. Three people, including the strawberry-blonde girl behind the bar, whipped their head around to look at him. So, this place really is supernatural friendly, Aaron thought. The talisman heated rapidly in his pocket. And Dora definitely was here before she disappeared.

That confirmed, he let go of the talisman and walked straight to the bartender. The other two patrons who’d noticed his magic had gone back to ignoring him like the good Fairviewers they were.

“Hi,” Aaron said, giving the strawberry blonde his best winning smile. “What’s good here?”

She shrugged. “Depends on whether it’s drink-o’clock in your world or not. If not, the pumpkin spice latte kills. If yes, you look like a Macallan kind of guy.”

Aaron grinned at her. “You’d be right about the whiskey, but I think I’ll go with the latte,” he told her.

He was doing his best with the charming vibes, which usually worked even if he turned it on women, but the bartender just nodded and went about preparing his coffee. Aaron watched her, more interested in the fact that she was making coffee at a bar decked out with an impressive assortment of liquor than anything else. The coffee machine was one of those intimidating ones that took up some primo counter real estate, and from the looks of it, it saw some use.

When she was done, she brought the latte over to him and puffed a dash of cinnamon over the foamy top right in front of him. The warm scent of the spice immediately made Aaron feel just a little more optimistic about everything. The mug was the cutesy kind with a grinning, red-nosed reindeer on the side.

“There you go,” she said with little enthusiasm, though not exactly unfriendly.

“Thanks, miss,” Aaron said. Before she could walk away again, he focused on her instead of the latte. “Could I ask you something?”

“I’m guessing I’m not your type, so go right ahead,” she said.

Aaron’s eyes widened, and it was the girl’s turn to chuckle. “Half-succubus,” she said on a whisper. “The gay-dar is practically built-in.”

He nodded, fighting the color rising to his cheeks. “Right. Makes sense.” Aaron cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you’ve seen this girl,” he said and pulled the photo Patrick had given him from his pocket. It showed Dora smiling, her blond hair shimmering in the sun.

The half-succubus took a look, then shook her head. “No, sorry. Friend of yours?”

“My ex’s sister, believe it or not,” Aaron said. “She went missing, and I tracked her first to Fairview, and now here.” Aaron had the cellphone gods to thank for that. It made using his magic almost unnecessary, although Aaron still liked to confirm the actual person had been to a place, not just their phone, hence his talisman.

Blurb:

The Night Bartender

Aaron has come to Fairview to find his ex’s teenage sister, who went missing in the city. As a witch both rich and powerful, Aaron follows a trail that leads him to a bar frequented by supernaturals and to a bartender who attracts Aaron’s attention — and not just because the bartender is keeping something from Aaron. When Aaron runs out of leads, he follows the mysterious and pretty bartender, and the next thing Aaron knows, he’s foiling an attempted abduction.

Ilya has built a quiet life in Fairview mixing drinks and flying under the radar. He is a banshee, and the psychic ability and mild telepathy that comes with that makes Ilya a sought-after commodity. That carefully constructed life Ilya built for himself breaks into a thousand pieces when a handsome witch starts asking questions and becomes Ilya’s rescuer mere hours after they meet.

The witch, Aaron, vows to protect Ilya and to keep his secret. Now Ilya has to decide whether he will give Aaron his trust and risk a lonely but safe life as a night bartender in a wintry city in which people disappear only to then turn up murdered.

The Night Bartender (Fairview Chronicles 9)

Release Date: Nov 12, 2021

Ilya stays safe by trusting no one, but Aaron, a wealthy witch, makes Ilya a want to trust.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3DjlWNU

Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/3wLbmwQ

Apple: https://apple.co/3Di9UEK

Kobo: https://bit.ly/3qQMsLh

Changeling Press: https://bit.ly/3HwmLpj

#paranormalromance #romancereaders #paranormalbook #mmromance #gayromance #urbanfantasy #standalone #witchromance #magic #mystery #holidayreading #holidayromance

About Alexa Piper:

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them.

Connect with Alexa: https://linktr.ee/AlexaPiper

Guest Post | The Scent of Pine by Holly Day

Guest-Post

Hello, everyone! Holly here to take over the blog again – I always make myself laugh saying that I’m here on my blog, but as my other name, very confusing.  

Today, it’s Christmas Card Day, and it just so happens that I wrote a story. The Scent of Pine was meant to be a cosy little tale about a man finding peace and love in time for Christmas.  

It didn’t turn out quite as cosy as I’d pictured it. 

Since it’s written for Christmas Card Day, there are Christmas cards – several, creepy cards. I had this idea that the two main characters would find love because of a card delivered to the wrong address. Cute, right? And it happens. Only the one sending the cards is a stalker ex and Rafael, one of the main characters, has been hiding for two years. When Ashton, a cop on sick leave, gets several Christmas cards wrongly delivered to his address, he goes looking for the person who should’ve received them. That sense of something not being quite right is there, and since he doesn’t have anything better to do during the days, he guards over Rafael. 

Even though The Scent of Pine didn’t turn out the way I’d planned, I loved writing it.  

Over at my blog, you can read the first chapter of the story, so I thought I’d continue it here by sharing chapter 2. 

Chapter 2

A knock sounded on the door. Rafael was in the middle of translating a badly written blog post from English to Spanish as cold washed over him. A knock. No one knocked on his door.

His heart banged hard and his fingers hovered over the keyboard. When the knock came again, he stood. He hadn’t ordered anything. On tiptoe, he neared the door and peeked through the peephole. His lungs shrank until he couldn’t draw breath.

Outside was his neighbor—the dark-haired man who’d held onto the railing when he’d walked to the mailbox.

Rafael quickly stepped away from the door and pressed himself against the wall. When the knock came again, Rafael took another step away from the door. Then he stopped. What if something was wrong? Maybe the man needed help and had knocked on every apartment door in the building without having anyone opening for him. It was in the middle of the day; people were at work.

He took a deep breath. “Yes?” He didn’t unlock the door but spoke loud enough for it to be heard through the door—he hoped.

“I’m Ashton Cross from the… from across the street.”

Ashton Cross. It had sounded as if he’d been about to say something other than across the street, but Rafael memorized the name. He’d Google him later.

“Yes?” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Could you open the door?”

Open the door? Cold wrapped around him. “Why?”

“I… eh… the mailman mixed our addresses up, and I would like to… Are you okay?”

Rafael frowned; he should have kept looking at the man when he grabbed the mail earlier; to see his reaction when spotting a wrongly delivered letter… “Can’t you put whatever they left you in the slot?”

“I could, but… I want to see your face when you read it.”

Rafael took a step back. What the hell? That was the weirdest request he’d ever heard. “Post them, please.”

“Look, man, I’m a cop. Not on duty, I’m on sick leave, but… could you please open the door? Is there a woman living in this apartment with you?”

A cop? A woman? Rafael stared at the door. He’d had good and bad experiences with the police. When trying to get away from Blake, he’d truly believed they had wanted to help him, even when their hands were tied.

“No woman.”

The silence lasted for several seconds.

“Are you in a long-distance relationship?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business.” Rafael’s heart jumped from his chest to block his throat.

“Right.” The man, Ashton Cross, sounded weary. “Still, could you unlock the door?”

Rafael wanted to say no, but he made sure the security chain was fastened on the door and turned the lock. Through the gap, he met Ashton’s gaze. “Hi.”

Ashton nodded, his eyes sweeping over his face then a quick dip to his hand before meeting his gaze again. “I might be completely wrong—” He handed over a small stack of cards. “Maybe it’s a romantic gesture from your girlfriend—”

“No girlfriend.”

Ashton nodded. “Thought so. I got the feeling it’s a man who’d written them. I could be wrong, though.”

Rafael glanced at the writing on the first and forgot how to breathe. He couldn’t say for sure it was Blake who’d written them, but he believed so.

“That was the first.” Ashton gestured at the card Rafael was staring at. “I was gonna ask my sister to run over with it, but I forgot. Then they kept coming, and…” Ashton ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to read them, but they weren’t in envelopes.”

Rafael nodded.

“You don’t find it strange?”

Rafael met his gaze again. “What?”

“Five cards. They’ve arrived every other day. It’s the same motif and the writing becomes more and more… And they’re all delivered to the wrong address.”

The wrong address was strange, but the rest made perfect sense. Blake had found him. “I’m sure it’s a bad joke.”

Ashton nodded. “You’d tell me if you were in danger?”

Rafael ignored the question. “Thank you for bringing them to me.” He had to leave. He couldn’t stay here. Urgency clawed at him. If Blake knew where he was…

Ashton watched him with narrowed eyes. “No problem. I’ll talk to the mailman too if I can catch him.”

Rafael nodded. “Thank you.” He closed the door despite Ashton looking like he wanted to say something more.

He had to leave.

* * * *

Ash grunted as Megan placed a box of Christmas decorations on his kitchen table.

“I can do it.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll do it.” He smiled and nodded but his mind wasn’t on Christmas decorations. The look in R. Vidal’s eyes—he hadn’t asked his name—when he’d seen the writing kept playing in his mind. And it was the first card, the non-threatening card. The others weren’t threatening either, but…

“Ash!” Megan knocked on the table. “Are you listening to me?”

“Sorry. What did you say?”

She huffed and shook her head. “Are you coming to us for Christmas?”

Ash normally worked on Christmas. He had no family of his own, nowhere he needed to be, so he worked, and those of his colleagues who had children could spend the holiday with them. He didn’t mind. Since their mother had passed away a few years back, Christmas hadn’t been the same anyway.

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

“You’re a mile away today. Did something happen?”

Ash shook his head. “Nah, I got a Christmas card—

“Oh, from who?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t for me; the mailman got the address wrong.”

Megan widened her eyes. “You’re distracted by a card that wasn’t for you?”

“Five.”

“What?”

“There have been five cards, and… Something isn’t right.”

“No, you should call the post office or someone. I don’t want to think about how many parcels will end up in the wrong place if you’ve already had five cards delivered to the wrong address.”

Ash smiled and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll be off. Do you need me to fix something before I go?”

“No, thank you.”

Megan frowned at him. “You’re in a good mood today.”

Was he? He hadn’t reflected over it. With his mind occupied by the cards and R. Vidal’s reaction to them, he hadn’t had time to feel sorry for himself. “I was outside for a bit earlier. Still about as fast as a snail, but it was nice to move a little.” It had been. He’d been exhausted when he came home, but it was great to use his body again.

“Good.” She walked to the hallway, and Ash followed. “I’ll be by tomorrow with a Christmas tree.”

He’d told her not to get one for him twenty times if not more, but she wasn’t listening. “Ben and I will get them tonight.”

Ash nodded. “I’ll be here.”

She opened the door and stepped outside. “You should put up lights on the railing.”

Ash nodded again.

“You’re the only one who doesn’t have any decorations.” She gestured at the neighboring houses.

“Meaning?”

She huffed. “It would be pretty if you too made an effort.”

He grinned. “Me? Make an effort?” He didn’t care. It wasn’t that he was against Christmas decorations, but he didn’t give a damn what the neighbors did or thought about him.

Megan shook her head. “Hopeless.”

That made him chuckle. As Megan walked down the stairs, he looked up at R. Vidal’s apartment and noted motion behind the curtain covering the window. Was he watching?

He waved at Megan as she got into her car, then walked back inside. He walked into the kitchen, ignored the box of Christmas decorations, and headed for the coffee maker. With a freshly poured cup, he sat in the easy chair by the window facing the road and the apartment building.

The snow had been so beautifully white this morning, but now it had a gray tinge to it close to the road. With a sigh, he grabbed his tablet and geared up for some mindless YouTube watching while keeping an eye on R. Vidal’s apartment.

Blurb:

the scent of pine

Ashton Cross was stupid enough to fall out a window while trying to catch a criminal. Now he’s on sick leave and has been for weeks, and has nothing to do but watch his neighbors go about their day. It’s driving him insane. When he gets a Christmas card not meant for him, he doesn’t think much of it, but then there is another and another, all with the same motif.  

For two years, Rafael Vidal has been hiding from his ex. He almost believed he’d gotten away when his neighbor knocks on his door to hand over a stack of Christmas cards. One look at the writing, and Rafael suspects he has been found.  

When Ashton understands the situation, he’s set on catching Rafael’s ex. He might not be ready to get back to active duty at the police station, but finally, he has something to do, and he doesn’t mind keeping Rafael close. Rafael is trying to distract himself by helping Ashton put up Christmas decorations, but will they be able to enjoy Christmas with his stalker ex lurking around the corner?  

Buy links: 

Contemporary Gay Romance: 17,557 words 

JMS Books :: Amazon :: books2read.com/TheScentOfPine 

Guest Post | December with Peppermint by K.L. Noone

Guest-Post

Today we have K.L. Noone on a visit! She’s here to share a little about December with Peppermint. Welcome!

Hi, everyone – happy December! And thank you to the lovely Ofelia for letting me drop by! It’s always a pleasure.

The weather’s getting colder and the holiday decorations are going up—so I wanted to share a little bit about my new release, “December with Peppermint,” which is all about handmade decorations, terrible puns about mint, and definitely no one making a holiday-themed sex tape, no matter what Finn’s agent suggests!

“December with Peppermint” is a short little holiday follow-up for Finn and Wes from “October by Candlelight,” my autumn-themed moving-in-together story—here, they’re getting ready for their first Christmas in their home together! Which comes with families wanting to visit, and Finn wanting to decorate everything in sight, and Wes needing to grade papers…and, on top of that, Finn’s agent worrying that he’s not visible enough, not memorable enough, not someone casting directors think of, these days…in need of something drastic, perhaps, to get people talking. (The sex tape suggestion isn’t entirely serious. Though…if Finn and Finn’s boyfriend might be willing to go along with it…) (Wes: “Not in this or any other universe, as much as I love you.”)

Fortunately, Wes is good at solving problems. And he might have an idea.

There’s also a lot of holiday baking, cozy blankets, seasonally flavored lube, and holiday movie-watching, cuddled up together! (Including a not-really-very-subtle nod to the main characters from my Character Bleed series—not a crossover as such, but Wes and Finn are watching a Colby Kent romantic comedy, at one point…I couldn’t resist!)

So I hope you can cuddle up, sip a seasonal beverage, and enjoy December along with Wes and Finn! And thanks again to Ofelia for letting me share it with you here!

Buy links

Amazon :: JMS Books

Author Bio

K.L. Noone teaches college students about superheroes and Shakespeare by day, and writes romance – frequently paranormal or with fantasy elements, usually LGBTQ, and always with happy endings – when not grading papers or researching medieval outlaw life. She is currently the servant of a large black cat named Merlyn, who demands treats on a regular basis.

Blurb

december with peppermint

Wesley Kim absolutely, positively refuses to film a holiday sex tape. And that might be a problem.

His boyfriend’s agent thinks it’ll be good publicity for Finn’s career. In good fun. Tasteful. A deliberate leak to announce to everyone that former adorable teen idol Finn Ransom’s all grown up and definitely sexy. Finn’s already said no, but now he’s worried about his image. He does want to be himself for the world, openly loving holidays and handcrafted ornaments and terrible puns and his boyfriend.

With some holiday decorations, candy canes, and a lot of love, Finn and Wes just might find a compromise that’s a little bit nice, a little bit naughty … and flavored with peppermint kisses.

Excerpt

Getting dressed, Wes paused to slide an arm around Finn’s waist and tug his other half close; Finn leaned some weight against him. Wes offered, “Coffee? More candy cane hot chocolate? That salted caramel tea you bought? Want me to put up those garlands for the windows?”

“Yes, if you would.” Finn was still shirtless, though he’d pulled on a pair of loose soft pajama pants covered in gallivanting reindeer. He looked cheerful, though Wes noticed the faint lines at the corners of his eyes. Not the most painful, but also not the lightest kind of day, then. That was fine; they had routines for that. And nothing pressing to do, anyway.

It’d be a day of curling up together, grading some papers, reading some scripts, and watching some holiday classics. A massage, maybe. Not moving much, but some stretches, to keep stiffness at bay. Lots of comfort. With candy cane hot chocolate and salted caramel tea.

Finn took a step back to sit down on the bed, over snowflake-patterned blankets and sheets. Wes, heart skipping a beat or two, sat down with him.

“I’m fine.” Finn waved a hand. “I was just thinking …”

“Should I be afraid?”

“Thanks. About yesterday …”

“You,” Wes said. “Your career. Being visible. Janice.” He really might have to have a talk with Finn’s agent. He could do that. Department meetings were good practice as far as getting heard.

“All of that. And you and me, this morning, and how happy I am. I think I’ve figured it out, kind of.”

Wes gathered up both of Finn’s hands. Held them, fingers cradled in his. Tried to shout, yes, go on, tell me everything, with every atom of his being.

“Janice says I’m too wholesome,” Finn said. “I don’t think it’s that, exactly. It’s just that …” He paused; the rain picked up, inviting more words, commiserating. “Everybody has an idea of who I am. Maybe they remember the kid from Finn & Cody’s Upside-Down Life, or maybe they’ve heard my voice in an animated movie about dragons, all heroes and kindness, y’know. Or maybe they feel sorry for me, if they look at me with the cane or needing to sit down between takes, and then it ends up being about pity. But none of that’s really …”

“The person who makes anatomically correct gingerbread men and terrible puns about mint lube?”

“You adore me. So I was thinking … no, not the whole sex tape thing, but … maybe a little bit naughty? Or at least nice. Something that’d be about me, and us.”

Possibilities hung in the air. So many, in light of everything they’d done already this morning.

Exposure. Nakedness. Metaphorical and literal.

Wes took a deep breath. He could be brave about this. He trusted Finn. With all of himself, he did. “I do adore you. And the gingerbread, and the mint. What’d you have in mind?”