Guest Post | Lion’s Hero by Alexis Woods

Guest-Post

Today, Alexis Woods is here to share an excerpt from her story, Lion’s Hero. Lion’s Hero was first published in 2014 but has now been revised and expanded.

Eights Nights to Fall in Love

Excerpt:

Ari peered past the guard as he made his way to the end of the line. Excitement filled him as he saw the area jammed with bodies, lights flickering, humans singing, and… is that dancing? The humans were pressed so close together, jumping and writhing, waving their arms, Ari wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. On the far side of the room, a huge, pulsating sign caught his attention. Club Haven flashed in colors of purple and green. A club! He’d never been in one though he’d heard plenty of stories from some of the other angels. Finally, a chance to explore this realm like I always wanted.

Excited, he ran his hands down his body—his very human body—taking in his clothing, checking to see if he fit in with these other humans. He wore a black logo shirt that clung to his chest and dark jeans, along with a kick-ass pair of boots on his feet. Interestingly, there was a braided silver ring adorning his left thumb. Sliding his hands over his head and ears, he discovered a short, spiky hairstyle and pierced ears. Fingering the earrings, four on one side and four on the other, Ari mumbled, “Really, my Lord?”

A group of riotous young women rushed past him going in the opposite direction of those standing in line. One of them, a long-haired girl dressed in black and silver, spun and ogled him. A silver bar ran through one eyebrow and a ring through her lip.

“Nice shirt,” she threw his way, before twirling around and running to catch up to her friends.

“Thank you,” Ari replied to her retreating back before he slapped his hands to his face to check for further piercings. “Well, thank you for that, I guess.”

He pulled his shirt away from his body to see what was imprinted on it. Satan’s Thorn, the shirt proclaimed, complete with rampant lion brandishing a wicked-looking stake.

“Funny, my Lord,” Ari muttered with a laugh. An answering chuckle filled Ari’s mind followed by a reminder of Father. “Right. Father. So, my other half… Do I get a hint? It’d be nice to know who I’m looking for.” Instead of the woman he expected, the profile of a man filled his mind: dark hair, the ends curling at the collar of a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up displaying an array of colors on his skin. Club Haven’s neon sign flashed in the background.

Ari gasped and fell against the nearest wall, leaning hard on it for support. He palmed his face as Father’s oration came back to him: He’s a man of God. He finds faith in Me. He’ll be yours… He’s, he, he’ll. Ari breathed deeply, pressing his palm to his heart as he attempted to calm his racing heart.

My other half is a male like me. Shocked, and in awe of this strange turn, Ari slumped.

Father so rarely granted his devoted angels a chance to meet their mate on Earth—his mentor Leo, had been one of the few—but he’d heard through the angelic grapevine that the chosen were always women for the mates of male-presenting angels. Never had a man been chosen as an other half, except when the angel presented more as female.

“Hey, are you alright?” a deep voice asked, coming from Ari’s right.

Ari cautiously spread his fingers to see a white button-down shirt, the top two buttons undone in front of him. A thick gold chain bearing a Star of David sat atop golden skin. He dropped his hands to gaze slightly up at a smooth oval complete with a solid chin, straight nose, and warm brown eyes he immediately wanted to get lost in. Oh, Dear Lord!

I’m right here, Ari. No need to yell.

Those impressive eyes dipped and came closer. Ari jerked his head up, knocking it into the wall. “Ow!” He moaned as he rubbed the sore spot and, with his head down, Ari didn’t realize the newcomer—Your other half, Father kindly supplied—had stepped even closer until his shoes entered Ari’s line view. When the man tried to pull Ari’s hands away, Ari slid to the right, his military reflexes kicking in. The move put distance between him and his other half, and he immediately wanted to zip back into place, but he held still, unsure what the right move should be. His brain was in overdrive. Never had he been in figurative knots, tongue-tied and dizzy.

“Skittish,” the man mumbled, obviously mistaking Ari’s side-step. A woman shrieked and he glanced towards the club’s entrance, just long enough for Ari to see his profile and the bar in the background, confirming that this tall, handsome man was Father’s choice for him.

Blurb:

Lion's HeroEight nights to fall in love.

Ari’s mission: meet the man chosen for him by God. The catch: he only has eight nights to both fall in love and have his chosen fall in love with him—the eight nights of Chanukah.

Gabriel’s test of faith: in reaching out to a young man, he finds himself confronted with the unbelievable. Believe, and the Festival of Lights may herald a miracle leading to a lifetime of love.

http://getbook.at/LionsHero

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Guest Post | A Handful of Joy by Pat Henshaw

Guest-Post

Today, Pat Henshaw is on a visit. We will have some guests throughout the month, not only on Fridays, to get us in the mood for the holidays. Pat is here to share a little from her story, A Handful of Joy, which was released yesterday. Welcome, Pat!


Writing is a strange occupation.

Most of us, if faced with an honest job description, would probably turn it down. According to WikiHow, this might be an accurate help wanted posting for a fiction writer position:

Do you like to create people who must cope with unusual situations and/or worlds?

You or your preferred publisher, located wherever manuscripts are accepted, seek a contract worker to write stories.
Candidates should have as many years of experience in writing as they can get. The right candidate must have mastery in the language of their choice. Ability to focus for long periods of time is a plus. Being able to entertain with words is preferred, but not required.

This contract position runs from whenever you write your first word through your entire lifetime. Mental work hours are twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Physical work hours vary per day. The salary for this position is whatever sales you make.

You will have no assigned work space, no collaborators unless you choose them, and no mid-morning, lunch, or mid-afternoon breaks unless you schedule them. You will have no constructive feedback or job training unless you seek it out, sometimes with out-of-pocket cost to you.

As an employee you will qualify for no health insurance, dental, vision, or 401k retirement plan, unless you fund these yourself.

If you wish to apply, please send a manuscript to the publisher of your choice or book/Amazon formatter. Please refer to the World Wide Web for additional information if you have questions about the position.

So how many of you are ready to apply?

I took the job.

Consequently, A Handful of Joy, a holiday story, was written. I hope it will make you feel awwwsome when you’re rushed and ready to give up on your relatives and friends because the hustle and bustle is getting to be too much.

Happy holidays!

Peace.
(If you’d like to see the job template I used, go to https://www.wikihow.com/Create-a-Help-Wanted-Ad# )

Blurb:

a handful of joyWhen does never turn into happily ever after in the search for love?

Top accountant of Manzanita Imports in Sacramento, Ted Abbott stopped participating in the love game after he turned thirty quite a few years ago. He’s not tempted by the cute young new hires or the product reps his loyal staff suggest he ask out on a date.

Chicago contractor Matt Patterson is on the verge of giving up too. He’s worked his way up from apprentice carpenter to co-owner of a thriving business. At forty-something, he’s considered a lucky catch for anybody looking for a sugar daddy, which he knows only too well.

The chance of them meeting is nil until Matt’s uncle who lived in Sacramento dies and leaves his estate to his nephew.

After they meet in a dilapidated bar called The Roost, could their paths actually merge and become one?

 

Buy links:

JMS Books :: https://books2read.com/u/3JZzGA

Excerpt:

“Where to next?” I asked Matt after shooting off a text to Josie.

“Somewhere I can think.” He turned and looked at me. “Thank you for the assist back there. It takes me a minute when something unexpected happens. A lot of people call me slow and others call me plain old stupid.”

He shook his head.

“A few of my friends at work call me ‘Give-me-a-minute-Matt’. I gotta step back and assess the situation and go over all my options before I come to a decision.” His mouth turned up in a rueful grimace. “Often people get annoyed when I do it.”

Not me. I was impressed. I liked a guy who took his time and didn’t just blunder ahead like his first thought always had to be the best. Careful thought beat impetuous action as far as I was concerned.

“Okay. All right.” I couldn’t leave it at that, though. “You didn’t hesitate the other night. Seemed pretty quick and direct to me. I was surprised.”

It took him a second, but he smiled a dreamy kind of grin.

“Yeah. The dance. The kiss.” He winked at me. “Not typical, so don’t get used to it.”

While we laughed softly together, I realized the easing of tension after our visit to Calvin was just what we needed.

“So, beef, chicken, fish, or other?” I asked.

“I don’t care as long as it’s somewhere quiet and we can talk without getting interrupted.”

His request wasn’t as impossible as it sounded. I took him to my favorite noontime Sudoku and tea spot, a tiny café I’d dubbed The Café That Time Forgot.

When it was built six generations back, Grumpy Gramp’s had been situated on one of the up-and-coming arterials in and out of San Francisco. Then highways had been built, with freeways not long afterward, followed by Interstate 80. The arterial receded into being a rural road, and instead of blossoming into the first of a flourishing chain of roadside cafés, Grumps, as it was affectionately called around here, became an anomaly, a family owned and operated East Bay institution.

Matt glanced at the sign over the brick building and laughed.

“Why’s he grumpy?”

“The café’s claim to fame is locally sourced ingredients for its soups, salads, sandwiches, and pastries. The story goes that back in the early 1900s when Gramps built the café on the edge of the fields, he always helped the workers pick the produce. One day a farmer brought in a box of greens and vegetables he’d picked the night before, so they weren’t in the best shape in the morning. Grampa reamed him out, calling the guy a ‘limp asparagus’. Everyone in the café at the time thought it was hilarious. They said the place’s name should be changed. Gramma wasn’t amused but said from now on her café would be called Grumpy Grampa, not Limp Asparagus. The name stuck.”

Matt was full-out belly laughing.

“Oh, God. The image. Limp asparagus.”

“Yeah, I know. Not a place where any self-respecting man would want to eat. Ever.”

Bio:

Pat Henshaw, born and raised in Nebraska, has lived on the U S’s three coasts, in Texas, Virginia, and now California. Before she retired, she held a number of jobs, including theatrical costumer, newspaper features reporter and movie reviewer, librarian, junior college English instructor, and publicist. She also loves to travel and has visited Canada, Mexico, Europe, Egypt, and Central America as well as almost all fifty US states.

Now retired, she enjoys reading and writing as well as visiting her older daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren on the East Coast and playing havoc with her younger daughter’s life in NorCal. She thanks you for reading her books and wants you to remember that every day is a good day for romance.

For more information, please visit http://www.pathenshaw.com .

Follow Pat at:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pat.henshaw.10/

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Giveaway | December

Giveaway!The last giveaway of the year! I don’t know what we’re gonna do with giveaways next year – if we’re gonna do giveaways – we’ll see. I can’t believe another year has gone by, but it has, and there’s been ups and downs, but mostly I feel fortunate for having had as much time to write as I have. It has mostly resulted in stories by Holly Day, but I’ve had fun. 

Okay, enough about the year. There will be other posts for that later on 😄 

We have three stories this month – Once in a Snowstorm, Trapped, and 24 Dates. Here comes the tricky part. Once in a Snowstorm is no longer available as a stand-alone story, so, instead, the winner will be given a copy of Aiden and Tristan where it’s included. Trapped is available but under a different title. It’s now called Remember Us. 24 Dates is 24 Dates as it’s always been. 

How does it work?  

I’ve created a Kingsumo giveaway, so hop on over there and sign up with your email address. You’re not subscribing to anything, but make sure it’s one you check regularly since it’s the one I’ll contact you on should you be the winner. 

Join in here! 

The Books  

Once in a Snowstorm is a tropy – and when I say tropy, I mean I tried to fit as many M/M romance tropes as I possibly could into one story – contemporary romance.  

Remember Us isn’t really a romance. It’s about an old couple in a nursing home. I know, it doesn’t sound like much fun, but it’s one of my favourite stories of those I’ve written. 

24 Dates – you know how sometimes you find yourself in a dip in the relationship with your partner? That’s where Victor and Jian are, deep down in that dip, so deep that Victor is unsure if they’ll ever make it out. Jian will not give up though, so he plans 24 dates from December 1st to Christmas eve to sweep Victor off his feet… again.  

Excerpt:

aidenandtristan

Tristan hoped Tom had helped Jennifer clear the parking lot outside the motorway café. People stopped by on a night like this, especially if there was a power outage. The ones living a little closer to town than he did would make their way there. Everyone benefitted from the café’s emergency backup electrical generators in times like these. Not that the centre of the town had power outages nearly as often as Tristan did, out here on the outskirts, but it was always a comfort for people to know the café would be heated and serving food. It was the town’s gathering point, and Tristan hoped someone would help Jen out. Maybe he should take the snowmobile and head in to give her a hand. But he didn’t want to leave Og in weather like this, when there was no guarantee Tristan would be making it back any time soon.
“Og!” His call was answered by a bark nearby. “Come on, boy.”
The darn dog didn’t come. Tristan sighed, grabbed the yellow snow shovel standing by the door, and started trudging through the snow. Og had better be stuck, or Tristan would strangle the stupid mongrel with his bare hands.
Snowflakes clung to his beard, and as he touched the knitted cap on his head, he realised it was already covered with snow. A walk outside was not what he’d envisioned after his arduous journey into town. He’d only gone in on his snowmobile to make sure he’d have enough dog food at home—he was pretty sure they would be snowbound for days. He’d had a quick chat with Jennifer, and then he’d headed back home. Maybe he should’ve stayed in town.
Jen always worked too hard. Running the motorway café and taking care of Luke all by herself was tough, and Tristan always worried when he couldn’t be there.
“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 when 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 came 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 couldn’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 carry 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 no joke.

Excerpt:

rememberus

Desperately, I searched for something to say, something to make him forget about this place. My heart banged in my ears. I didn’t have the energy for any breakout attempts today. My body ached, and the weariness in my bones grew more insistent for each minute passing.

I honestly didn’t know how I’d find the energy to walk back to my flat. It wasn’t far, but I was finished. I’d had enough. Deep inside, my soul screamed at me; it said I couldn’t leave William, and I wouldn’t, but I’d had enough.

No, I believe we come here for the apple pie.” It was Friday; there was a strong possibility there would be apple pie in the cafeteria. I watched William. His blue eyes too alert for his age—too alert for someone as confused as he was.

Stop looking at me!”

It took me a second too long to look away.

I said, stop looking at me! You think it’s all right for perverted old men to come here and ogle me?”

No, of course not. I wasn’t ogling you.”

I know what I saw.”

I sighed. The sting of the heron picking at my heart made me sink even lower. I shouldn’t have come, but there hadn’t been one day when I hadn’t. I couldn’t leave William here, but something was off with me today. If it all were to end now, I wouldn’t be sorry.

You’re a handsome man.” I shrugged and hoped he’d drop the subject.

I have a husband back home, and I do not intend to leave him. Ever.”

The words made me smile. I ignored the lump in my throat and tried to focus on the fact that he did love me. “He’s a lucky man.”

He claims to be. Are you married?”

I met William’s gaze and nodded. “I am, and I love him.”

William’s lips thinned. “Then why are you here with me? You should be at home with him.”

I would be if he was at home.”

Where is he?”

Yeah, that’s the question, isn’t it? “He’s on a trip.”

William gasped. “He went on a trip without you? The bastard!”

Yeah, no. He didn’t have a choice.”

Oh, but still… It’s hard to be the one who’s left behind. When will he be back?”

I opened my mouth only to close it again. “He drops in now and then.”

Yeah? Where is he now?”

I chuckled. “Somewhere down memory lane, I think.”

William reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon, don’t worry about it.”

We sat in silence for a while. The morning show on the TV drew close to an end, and I started to long for a cup of coffee. I had no desire whatsoever to go to the cafeteria, though.

Have you been married long?”

I glanced at William. He was watching me with a crease between his brows, clenching his jaws the way he did when he was thinking too hard.

Forty-three years.”

He nodded, and the crease between his brows deepened. I held my breath, both fearing and hoping he would remember me.

I’ve been married a long time, too…I think.” He rubbed his forehead, looking lost.

Yeah? He’s a lucky man.” I patted his hand. It wasn’t often he allowed touch, but I figured since he’d squeezed my shoulder, a pat on the hand should be okay. He grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. My joints protested, but I didn’t care.

I miss him.” William blinked more rapidly. “I miss him every second of every day.”

I swallowed to prevent my throat from closing up and cursed the way my eyes started to burn. “And he misses you.”

He nodded. “I think he does.” With his free hand, he rubbed his chest. “It feels like he does. It feels as if I should be somewhere else.”

I didn’t say anything. What was there to say?

The silence grew. A soap opera started on the TV, and we sat there next to each other and held hands. Rain began to fall outside, drops fighting for room on the glass of the window.

Do you want some coffee?” I was sure I could call on a nurse and have them bring us a cup. We never asked for it, but today I didn’t want to be around the others living here. All I wanted was to sit next to William, sip on a cup of coffee, and forget we weren’t at home.

He let go of my hand as if I’d burned him.

Who are you?”

Excerpt:

24dates

We’re late for our date.”

No more dates, Jian.” He sipped on the coffee and glanced at him. “At least not in the morning.”

Come on, babe.” He rustled a paper bag in front of him, and Victor narrowed his eyes.

What’s that?”

Your breakfast.”

He remembered the avocado sandwich Jian had made him for the ride and perked up a little. “Can’t I have it now?”

Nope. I need you to get out of bed, put on a pair of sweats and a sweater.”

Sweats?” What kind of date involved sweats? “Should I shower?” Jian hadn’t. His hair was a mess, and the dark stubble could soon be called a beard. Victor loved it when he grew it a little rugged.

Nope, you’ll get wet enough later.”

Victor scrunched his nose and took another sip of the coffee. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

Jian chuckled, and it had a wicked ring to it. Victor’s nerves woke up. “Jian! Where are we going?”

You’ll see. Get your sweet ass out of bed because we’re going in five.”

Victor growled, took another sip of the coffee, and stumbled into the bathroom. Seven minutes later, he climbed into the truck, accepted the thermos cup Jian had prepared for him with more coffee, and the bag with the sandwich. As they rolled out of the driveway, Victor looked at him. “Are you gonna tell me now?”

Jian grinned and shook his head. The soft sounds of Christmas music filled the tinsel-decorated pickup and the tiny Christmas tree glowed on the dashboard. Outside the streets were mostly deserted, the snow was white and glistening.

When Jian turned north instead of toward Courtland or Whiteport, Victor frowned. North? What the heck could they do north of Northfield? Skiing? He hoped not, he’d break a bone or two hundred and six.

Where are we going?”

Jian raised an eyebrow at him.

Oh, come on, we’re on the way, you might as well tell me! Communication is a good thing, Jian.”

Not always.”

Victor narrowed his eyes. “Where are we going?”

Snowmelt.” Jian drummed his thumb on the steering wheel, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Snowmelt? There was nothing in Snowmelt… except ski slopes. “I’m not skiing.”

We’ll see.”

No, Jian, I’m serious. I won’t ski. I’ll be in the pub while you go.”

Jian nodded, his face might’ve held a blank expression, but Victor knew he was laughing at him.

Victor blew out a breath. He wasn’t looking forward to sitting in a bar while Jian was out skiing. He could drink alone at home—he never did, but if he had, it would be considerably cheaper.

For the most part, pine trees lined the road, not giving Victor much to look at other than Jian. He didn’t mind, he loved looking at Jian. He wasn’t classically handsome, but Victor loved the bump on the bridge of his nose and the dark, dark eyes where you could hardly see where the iris stopped and the pupil began. Though, he couldn’t look into his eyes when he was driving. He loved the black stubble against the olive-colored skin that grew darker in the summer.

The morning sun was streaming through the now thinning trees, giving warning about civilization up ahead, but before they reached Snowmelt, Jian turned left.

What are you doing?” There were no ski slopes down there. The mountain was on their right.

Jian chuckled. “You’ll see soon enough.”

I hate you a little right now.”

Jian nodded. “It’ll get worse before it gets better.”

What?” Get worse? What could be worse than skiing? “It’s a date, right?”

Of course.”

Aren’t dates supposed to be… pleasant?”

Jian pursed his lips. “I don’t know if pleasant is the word I’m going for today.”

Victor took a deep breath but kept his mouth shut. Jian turned in on a small gravel road and followed it for a couple of minutes before he parked in a three-car wide parking lot that had been cleared of snow. Pine trees surrounded them and silence descended in the pickup.

Where are we?”

Jian gave him a serious look. “In Snowmelt.” He opened his door, walked around the pickup, and grabbed a bag from the back.

Victor followed, his heart thudding more rapidly than it should on a Saturday morning. A few seconds later, Jian led him out on a jetty where a man dressed in thick winter clothing waited for them. He grinned and shook Jian’s hand.

Jian?” Victor stared at the rectangular hole in the ice of the lake. “Jian, what are we doing here?”

aidenandtristan

Daring a snowstorm might not be the smartest thing Aiden Evans 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 that at his mother’s place, but it’s better than being alone in the city. If he can make it there, that is. 

Tristan Gardner 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? 

Note: This book contains Once in a Snowstorm, The Empty Egg, Happy Endings, and Just Words 

rememberus

Charlie Wilkins had everything he wanted—a husband, a daughter, a house that was his home. He still has his husband, but William has forgotten who he is. He still has his daughter, but the roles have switched, and Ann is now the one taking care of them. 
 
There is only one thing Charlie wants, and that is to spend the rest of his days with William by his side. But William is living in a nursing home, and Charlie is living…somewhere. Ann says she will fix it; she’ll make sure they’ll get to live together again. Charlie hopes she will before William either escapes or figures out Charlie has left him in someone else’s care. He promised William they’d stay together till death did them part, and he meant it, but what was he to do when he no longer could take care of William? 

24dates

When Victor Hill bought a house with his boyfriend, Jian Kouri it was a dream come true. But now, two years later, instead of living their happily ever after, they hardly see the other awake.

With Jian out the door before Victor gets up in the morning, and asleep on the couch nearly as soon as he walks in the door, the life Victor imagined couldn’t be further from reality. They don’t talk; they don’t touch, and Victor fears he and Jian have already drifted too far apart.

The holiday season is a time for hope, but when Victor comes home to find Jian with a plan to woo him for Christmas, is it too little, too late? The dates are great, and there are filled with Christmas fun to get Victor in the right spirit for the holiday, but are they enough for the two of them to fall in love again? Or is there just too much in their relationship that needs fixing?