X-mas Read | Once in a Snowstorm

X-mas-read

There isn’t anyone visiting today, so I thought I’d share a little about Once in a Snowstorm. 

This was a long time ago, and it was a spur of the moment thing. It’s crazy, becuase I know I wrote on this story during NaNo, so in November 2015, and it was released on December 8th the same year. On January 8th 2016, one month later, I gave birth to my youngest daughter. How the heck did I have the energy to write? I suspect it was the only thing I had the energy to do.

Anyway, Once in a Snowstorm is a bit over the top… you know, a bit much LOL. I had this idea of cramming as many of the M/M romance tropes out there into one story as possible. 

It started as a joke. I was chatting with Al Stewart and Amy Spector – I still do on a daily basis – and we were having a laugh about how every character was named Tristan or Aiden, how responsive ever bottom was, and how he always has green eyes, and so on and so on – I give you Aiden and Tristan LOL

Avoid Tourist Traps

Excerpt:

“Og!” The dark and the snowflakes made it hard to see. Nothing but snow-covered tree trunks and not a dog to be found.

Another bark came from close by. Tristan squinted into the woods. Og’s bright eyes glowed in the dark. A white-spotted dog was not easy to locate when everything was white-spotted, but now Tristan knew what he was looking at, he could see that Og was indeed trapped. A dark figure held on to his collar, not that Og appeared to be bothered, judging by the happy thump of his tail against the snow, creating a white cloud around both him and the person on the ground.

Tristan took a careful step closer. His grip on the shovel tightened. What kind of lunatic comes into the woods in weather like this?

“Hello?” Tristan stopped a couple of metres away from the body—a man, he saw now—and waited for a response. Only a muffled groan came. Fuck!

Tristan dropped the shovel and hurried forward to the man and shook him lightly. “Hey. Come on, wake up.” The eyelids fluttered as the man tried to open his eyes. Tristan touched his forehead—icy cold. The man was almost completely covered in snow and his hair was wet—Tristan assumed his clothes were, too. Without thinking, he reached for the man’s hand, shook loose his fingers from Og’s collar, and started to pull him out of the snow.

He sighed as he took in the trendy jeans and sneakers. Why can’t people dress according to the weather? If Og hadn’t found him, he’d have frozen to death—he wouldn’t look so pretty in his designer clothes in a casket.

He hefted the man up in a fireman’s lift and started making his way towards the cabin. It was like carrying an ice block. He guessed he should be pleased about the man being short and small framed. His curly dark hair flopped around his face with each step Tristan took.

They weren’t far from the cabin, but ploughing through the snow with the extra weight of the man and Og running around his legs had Tristan sweating and out of breath in no time at all. He grunted as he sank knee-deep into the snow, mentally cursing the stupid man for walking into his forest. He couldn’t stay angry, though. He worried about the man being injured. It would be impossible to get an ambulance out here, and Tristan only had a basic knowledge of first aid. First, he needed to get him out of his wet clothes, that much he knew. Hypothermia was serious business.


Once-in-a-SnowstormDaring a snowstorm might not be the smartest thing Aiden has ever done, but he can’t stand being in his flat a moment longer. With only three days to Christmas, he doesn’t want to be alone. He wants a place to belong, wants people around him who won’t look down on him. He might not find all that at his mother’s place, but at least it’s better than being alone in the city. If he can make it there, that is.

Tristan is looking forward to a quiet night in front of the TV, but instead, he has to save an idiot in designer clothes from freezing to death in his forest. Tristan tries not to notice the man’s good looks, just like he has tried not to notice any man’s good looks for the last seven years. He knows where relationships go and is far better off living alone, with his dog, in his cabin.

Aiden is driving Tristan mad with his bratty comments and irresponsible ways, and Aiden is going crazy from Tristan’s judgmental attitude. Luckily, in a few days, the weather will clear up, and the two men won’t have to be together any longer. But will a few steamy nights with the grumpy lumberjack change Aiden’s mind about wanting to leave? And will Tristan still want to go back to his peaceful, predictable life without fear of getting his heart broken?

books2read.com/Snowstorm

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

X-mas Read | Boughs of Evergreen

X-mas-read

There are no guests today, so I thought I’d fill up the slot with one my Christmas stories, instead.

One of the first stories I wrote was From All of Us to All of You. It’s part of the Boughs of Evergreen anthology from Beaten Track Publishing which is an anthology with a mix of short YA/NA holiday stories.

Boughs-of-Evergreen-Text

First, I thought I’d list all the covers and blurbs, but the anthology consists of twenty-two stories – yes, I’m too lazy.

My favourites are Kiss Me at Kwanzaa by LL Bucknor, Always have, Always will by Amelia Mann, Shiny Things by Amy Spector, The Invasion of Tork by Al Stewart and Claire Davis – there are more stories I would recommend (if you read horror (and F/F), Terry Kerr’s A Family Christmas! Love that one LOL) but I’ll move on to sharing an excerpt instead.

Lucia

Today it’s Lucia. It’s strange that we celebrate an Italian saint in Sweden when the rest of the world doesn’t. But we do. My kids will be dressed up in Lucia gear tomorrow. Normally, we’d start the day going to the school to watch them walk in the dark morning with lit candles while singing Christmas songs, but not this year. They’ll be dressed up, and each class will sing a song that the teacher will film and then share with us – not nearly as atmospheric.

In From All of Us to All of You they’re also celebrating Lucia.

Excerpt:

I tried not to think about the other people in church, and what they would think when they saw me. I knew they judged my mother, and pitied me, hell they would even pity Annie, and normally I would hide in the back. But, not today!

Monica actually made it better. Now they wouldn’t think that poor deserted boy. Now they would think, Oh, how nice of her to sit next to him. Okay, maybe that wasn’t better, but still, they wouldn’t think I was alone. People thought that just because you stuck to yourself, you were lonely. I wouldn’t call myself lonely. Okay, I was pretty lonely, but I chose to be. Better to be lonely, than have to explain the whole thing.

One failed stint at the university had taught me everything I needed to know about myself. I’d gotten free therapy through school, but even though my therapist had made some good points, what I’d really learned was that I couldn’t handle the real world. I couldn’t cope with the pressure of having to accomplish something, be someone. So, I’d moved back home to our small southwestern town, and gotten a job as a cashier at the smallest food market that wasn’t a neighborhood corner store. I’d been a cashier there for four years now.

“Natten går tunga fjät…” Oh, here they came. Monica, grumbled something next to me, before turning her attention to the children striding down the aisle. I almost became a little teary-eyed. They were adorable, all of them, and Annie was beautiful. She was concentrating really hard on holding her head straight and her hands palm to palm, while singing along in the Santa Lucia song.

The dark church instantly became brighter when the children took their place in front of the altar. After a few songs, four of the Lucias took a step forward. One by one they each lit one of the four tapers in the large candelabra, and then read a verse.

I saw Annie’s hand shake when she held the match to the wick, but she read her poem flawlessly. It was nerve-racking to read a verse in front of this many people, and she didn’t even stutter. I was so proud.

When the four candles were lit, and the girls had returned to their places among the others, they sang a few more songs before the procession took its leave. First the Lucias, then the handmaidens, then the star boys, and last the gingerbread men, and the brownies.

There was applause, of course. What parent wouldn’t applaud their child after such a performance?

“Lucia bread and glögg in the parish house?” I asked Monica with a smile.

“Yes, of course,” she answered, almost as excited as I was.


From All of Us To All of YouSimon is counting the days to Christmas, not because he likes the Holidays – no, he hates them. He dreads every single holiday ever created, but Christmas it the worst. As if his dad’s drunken snores and his mother’s faked Christmas spirit isn’t enough, his sister has decided to celebrate Christmas elsewhere this year.

The stress and anxiety drive Simon crazy. When he is introduced to a work colleague’s son, Hannes, he mistakenly believes he’s been set up on a blind date. Even after Hannes sets him straight in his assumptions, he keeps seeing signs that shouldn’t be there. Is Hannes lying when he says he isn’t interested or has the Christmas stress finally driven Simon mad?

books2read.com/FromAllOfUs