Today we have the awesome Ellie Thomas back on the blog. She’s here to talk about the newest story, Lucky John, which is one of the JMS Books’ anniversary stories. Be on the lookout for stories published during the month with some form of luck in the title – they’re all stories to celebrate the anniversary 🥳

Thanks so much, Ofelia, for having me as your guest again! I’m Ellie, and I write MM Historical Romance novellas. I’m popping in today to chat about my new story Lucky John, which is released today! It’s currently in the 20% off new release sale at JMS Books until July 7th.

Lucky John was written for JMS Books’ Lucky 13 submission call to celebrate the 13th anniversary of JMS Books. I’ll be very interested to read all the other July releases to learn how all the other authors taking part interpreted the “lucky” theme. I’m not sure why it immediately made me think of 17th-century England on the cusp of the Restoration of King Charles II!

My initial idea was to have an MC derisively called “lucky” and regarded as a nuisance at best and a liability at worst, which was how John came into my mind as the put-upon serving lad at a remote Oxfordshire inn. Every downtrodden character deserves their hero, and Owen Montgomery, a disillusioned ex-soldier and Royalist messenger bursts into John’s drab world to rescue him from his miserable existence.

Of course, life and relationships are never that simple, and Owen, from whose point of view the story is written, regards himself as far less than heroic. Like much of the population during the English Civil War (or any war), his life has been turned upside down. He regards himself at best as an aimless, landless drifter, with only his duties as a messenger keeping him from becoming a highwayman.

With the backdrop of a country in chaos, my focus in this story was on the central relationship and how these two very different men could find some middle ground as equals and lovers. Despite his downtrodden life before meeting Owen, John has a capacity for happiness and acceptance that Owen is sadly lacking. And in turn, by opening up to John, Owen learns to forgive himself and realise his capacity for love.

Lucky John

Owen Montgomery has been a landless drifter since the Royalist defeat at the Battle of Worcester nine years previously when he was seventeen. Since then, he has lingered abroad as an insignificant follower in the retinue of exiled King Charles.

In the spring of 1660, Owen travels across England as an envoy on behalf of the King. Despite this important diplomatic mission, Owen regards himself as little better than the highwaymen he encounters on the lawless roads.

During a brief stop at an obscure roadside inn, he encounters Lucky John, a bullied skivvy with a sweet nature who makes a lasting impression. When Owen impulsively rescues John from his unkind employer, he has no idea of the impact the lad will make on his lonely existence.

Will Owen reject this chance to open up and share his life? And can Owen be convinced that he deserves John’s love?

Excerpt:

Owen heaped a pile of straw for his billet with his pack roll in place of a pillow. He was about to blow out the light, intending to wrap himself in his cloak to sleep, when he heard the patter of ill-shod feet coming across the cobbled yard.

John appeared at the stable door, clutching a few blankets. “I thought you and Bess might be cold overnight.” Owen was touched by the thoughtful gesture. The boy was a touch of sweetness in a harsh and cruel world. All the more remarkable when he was regarded as an object of mockery and derision by his employers and their patrons.

“Thank you,” Owen said as John designated the most worn blanket for Bess. Using his cloak as an under-blanket, Owen now had the luxury of spreading the rest of the blankets on top. Satisfied with his work, he sat on his makeshift bed to remove his high riding boots.

“Let me help you,” John said, sitting on his haunches on the stable floor. One boot slipped off easily, but the other was more stubborn. After several efforts, with one last tug, it came away abruptly. John fell backwards, laughing, with the boot in his hands. His laughter was infectious, making Owen grin. John’s innocent delight was disarming.

It was growing cold in the unheated stable. Owen removed his hat, coat, and belt, and keeping his precious messenger bag and small arms close by, he scrambled into the straw bed, expecting John to depart, taking the lamp with him.

Instead, the boy blew out the flame, shucked off his pattens, and attempted to get under the covers. “What in hell are you doing?” Owen snapped, sitting up and glaring at John in the darkness.

The boy was unrepentantly. “You have all my blankets. I didn’t think you’d mind sharing.”

Owen had survived war, skirmishes, and the machinations of great men. But he had never met anyone as disconcerting as this skinny slip of a lad.

“Very well,” he conceded, settling back down. But rather than keeping a careful distance, the boy snuggled up to him like a puppy. At first, Owen tolerated this simple need for warmth on a chilly spring night. He didn’t object to John’s tentative touch on his shirt-covered chest, but when one hand started to drift downwards towards the waistband of his breeches, Owen tensed.

“No,” he said, halting John’s progress firmly.

“I thought you might want to. You’ve been nice to me.”

“Not beyond common courtesy. You don’t have to repay me. Especially in that way. You haven’t even learned my name.”

“I know. But you seemed lonely and I wanted to comfort you. And I noticed you didn’t give our serving maids a second glance.”

Owen was startled by the lad’s unexpected perception. How could he have guessed? Even during their long exile together, his own brother hadn’t suspected his preferences, mainly because Owen had been careful to conceal his indifference to women. Excuses were easily arranged by indulging in a stupefying excess of liquor like the rest of the exiled court.

Over the years, there had been fleeting encounters, catching a man’s attention in whatever province or country he’d passed through. But there’d been at least some conversation to establish a mutual attraction, usually over a few glasses of wine or ale. John’s instant, correct assumption wrong-footed him.

“I like you and I thought you liked me. It’s not as though I haven’t been with men before,” John added helpfully. “And you are quite handsome, especially when you smile.”

Buy Links:

JMS Books :: Amazon :: books2read :: Add to Goodreads :: Add to Bookbub

Bio:

Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance.

Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.

Website: https://elliethomasromance.wordpress.com/

Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/8308047409266947

Twitter: @e_thomas_author

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19835510.Ellie_Thomas

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ellie-thomas

Today, we have Ellie Thomas back on the blog 🥳 She’s here to tell us about her latest story, May Wedding, which is released today! Welcome, Ellie!

Thanks so much, Ofelia, for having me as your guest again! I’m Ellie, and I write MM Historical Romance novellas. I’m popping in today to chat about my new story May Wedding, currently in the 20% off new release sale at JMS Books until May 12th.
May Wedding is the sixth book in my Regency romp Twelve Letters series featuring an ensemble cast. After a digression in book 5, The Misfit, which introduced a new couple, Luc and Harry, May Wedding resumes with our established couples of Jo Everett and Daniel Walters, Captain Ben Harding and Dr Edward Stephens and Nathan Brooks and the Hon. Percy Havilland.
This story focuses on the weddings of the title. In the 21st century, although weddings have become big business and can be increasingly elaborate, society’s attitude to marriage in the main has become more relaxed than two centuries ago. Also, it’s become increasingly acceptable for some long-term couples, straight, gay or non-binary, to choose to remain unmarried.
Although heterosexual marriage was pretty much socially compulsory in Regency times, in practice, there were all sorts of less formal living arrangements where people adapted to their different circumstances. And, of course, until very recently, lesbian and gay marriage was not an option.
In May Wedding, I was interested to explore my characters’ attitudes to marriage. The story begins with the grand society wedding of one of Percy’s beloved younger sisters. This includes all the financial formalities of a dowry and allowances, choosing the most fashionable church for the ceremony and the headache of finding a venue for the wedding breakfast that embarrassing relatives can’t gatecrash.
In some ways, much of the organisation resembles a modern wedding, worrying about seating arrangements or the pros and cons of inviting awkward guests. But there are essential differences. Unless you’re enough of a celebrity to have a pre-nuptial agreement, the financial element is far less formal these days, as both partners usually have jobs and their own incomes. Women had very few legal rights in Regency times, so Percy’s efforts for his sister’s financial protection are understandably important.
For the couples in my ensemble, however devoted the relationship, marriage was out of the question. Even living together was fraught with difficulty unless you were wealthy and influential enough to flout draconian laws.
But, then as now, people are people, and although some find the idea of marriage unappealing, for others, it is meaningful. When one of my couples decide to stage their own informal ceremony, it was interesting to explore the attitudes in their tightly bonded group. Some members are excited and enthusiastic to help, whereas others go along with the plans without understanding what all the fuss is about.
It was fun to plan two contrasting weddings, one completely conventional and the other totally informal and gauge the emotional reactions of everyone involved in their May wedding.

May Wedding

Some of the gentlemen who meet weekly for supper at The Golden Lion in London’s St. James’ are preoccupied with the prospect of matrimony.
The Honourable Percy Havilland is at full organisational pelt for his sister’s triumphant society marriage, ably backed by his friends. His frequent stress-induced outbursts are endured by his ever-patient lover, Nathan.
Percy has mixed feelings about the upcoming nuptials, the sorrow at losing one of his precious sisters balanced by the opportunity of exhibiting his exquisite good taste to make this the wedding of the Season.
His friend Jo Everett reacts differently to the wedding, desiring an equivalent opportunity to mark his enduring love for Daniel Walters.
Will Percy manage to survive the wedding without falling out irreparably with Nathan? And might Jo and Daniel discover they have the support of their close circle to celebrate their own special day?

Excerpt:

Nathan, more than anyone, comprehended how much Percy agonised over relinquishing his sister. Partly because Percy no longer practiced caution with Nathan where his feelings were concerned. But also because his lover bore the brunt of Percy’s feverish exertions for the wedding.

Percy recalled when they were in Nathan’s private sitting room in his great house off Leicester Square, during a rare hour together before Percy returned to Little Chelsea to accompany his sisters to an evening’s revels. Nathan sat in his favourite Chesterfield armchair while Percy paced before him in a manner that Nathan remarked reminded him of a caged tiger.

When holding forth at great length on selecting the exact shade of soft pink for the bridesmaids’ dresses, Percy started to argue with Nathan, despite the gentleman’s indifference to whether the ladies should wear muslin or sackcloth.

Instead of justifiably losing his temper with Percy in this wildly unreasonable mood, Nathan said, “Come here,” and patted his thighs encouragingly. After a brief hesitation, while formulating a heated debate between the virtues of a bright peach hue or a subtle shade of apricot, Percy rather sulkily sat on Nathan’s lap, holding himself stiffly.

“That’s better,” Nathan said, pulling him close. All Percy’s nervous tension started to dissolve as he breathed in Nathan’s familiar Bay Rum cologne, listened to the steady rhythm of his breath, and felt the warmth and strength of his body that Percy relied on and frequently enjoyed.

“Whatever you choose,” Nathan opined, “will be perfect, not only in tribute to your excellent taste but because of your insurmountable care.”

At this disarming statement, rather than bristling, Percy found himself weeping copiously on Nathan’s broad shoulder while his paramour patiently stroked his back and kissed his neck between reassuring endearments.

Needless to say, that had not been the only circumstance when Percy had relieved his raw nerves on Nathan. The degree of toleration Nathan exhibited on account of Percy’s mental and emotional strain in the run-up to the wedding had resulted in far fewer spats than was their habit.

On the odd stolen night in Nathan’s bed during the Season, Percy lay wrapped in his strong arms, momentarily soothed and protected from all his fears, demands, and struggles. He didn’t know how he would have survived the headlong months of Araminta’s betrothal without Nathan’s support and even managed to admit that once or twice.

With a rush of affection and gratitude, Percy raised a grin and his glass in a private toast. Nathan’s frown disappeared, replaced by an answering smile as he emulated the gesture. Percy presumed that when the last slice of cake was consumed, and they all gathered on the front steps of the house to wave off the bride and bridegroom, he would feel a discreet touch on his shoulder, or a hand briefly grasping his waist, Nathan’s way of showing solidarity.

Naturally, after the splendid formality of the Seymours’ hospitality, Percy’s wider family and even a few friends might convene at Little Chelsea for a dish of tea or something stronger to discuss the joyoyus event. But after Simeon and Cordelia departed to collect Harriet and bestow a similar rehash of events with a new audience in Emma, Percy idly wondered if he could excuse himself for the afternoon and decamp to Leicester Square.

He had caught that brief heated flash of interest when Nathan first laid eyes on Percy in church, delectable in tight-fitting dove grey. It seemed only fair to allow Nathan to appreciate Percy’s new clothing behind closed doors and slowly remove every layer. After being such a faithful knight during the wedding campaign, tolerating the worst of Percy’s barbs and inconsistencies, Nathan deserved a leisurely reward.

Also, losing himself in the intense, deliberate, and mind-numbing loving that only Nathan could give, Percy could glory in the achievement of the nuptials without dwelling too much on the lack of Araminta at home.

Anticipating such a sweet release, Percy put his glass on the table and ran an elegant middle finger around the rim before dipping it in the fizzing liquid. As he raised the digit to his lips, he looked directly at Nathan, allowing the promise of a flash of tongue as he delicately sucked on his fingertip.

Nathan adroitly responded to a remark from his near neighbour, only a faint flush of colour on his cheekbones betraying his response to Percy’s teasing. I’ll pay for that later, Percy thought with a pleasurable squirm.

Book links:

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Books2Read :: Add to Goodreads :: Add to Bookbub

Bio:

Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance.

Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.

Website: https://elliethomasromance.wordpress.com/

Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/8308047409266947