Gust Post | Little Tree by Rafe Jadison

Interview

Today we have an interview! Rafe Jadison has allowed me to ask him a few questions about him and his holiday story, Little Tree, so lets jump right in. Welcome Rafe!

Do you believe in the concept of a muse? What’s yours like?

It’s funny you should ask that, because I don’t know that I actually believe in a muse, but I often jokingly write about one on my oh so neglected blog.  I think there are many people and things that can inspire us to write.  The muse I write about in my blog is slightly sarcastic, and well, let’s just say she’s a lot.  In real life, the people who often inspire me to write are slightly more heroic.  There are times in my life where I see someone in a precarious situation and wonder what that person must be going through.  I think the more bothered I am by it, the more likely I am to write about it.  I want to give them a happy ending.  I want to work out their problems.  I want to tell their story.  Usually these are people who I really don’t know at all, and often people I haven’t even spoken to, just someone who caught my attention.  For all I know my ideas about these people are completely wrong, but filling in the blanks can be like sudoku for writers.

Do you read your reviews?

So, I carefully read my reviews.  I remember reading one when I first started publishing, and it really hurt my feelings.  I was grateful that the same book later received some good reviews.  I also felt better when I saw that some of my favorite authors, people who I think are talented and gifted people, had some bad reviews.  I try to remember that every book is really not for every person.  I try to remember that I am writing for the people who do appreciate my work, and one good review can quickly make up for a bad one in my opinion.  I also know that I have to prepare to read them.  I have to remind myself that they could be bad, and then I read them.

Can you share with us something about the book that’s not in the blurb?

Okay, Little Tree is a very personal story to me.  I am not the main character, although we have many things in common, and his love interest is not anyone that I’m seeing, but he does resemble someone I used to love.  Little Tree for me was an exploration of what would happen if the one who got away came back.  The house, well, that it is very similar to one of the houses that I grew up in, and it’s also in Florida.

What is your work schedule like? When do you fit your writing in?

My day job is hectic.  I frequently commit to things that I probably shouldn’t, but I think that my work is important, and so I do it. With that being said, my writing schedule comes in the evenings.  Instead of watching TV after dinner, I write.  It’s what I do on the weekend, other than clean and try to get some outdoor exercise.  I find that to maintain a writing schedule you may often need to give things up.  Once I acknowledged that, it was easier for me to make time to write.

What’s your pet peeve?

I am a stickler about manners.  I don’t mean that I police people about which fork they use, or freak out if people don’t send greeting cards.  I am referring to just generally treating people with respect.  I think how we talk to others says a great deal about who we are.  I appreciate people who even when going through hard times or having a bad day/year/life still manage to be polite to others.  Kindness goes much further with me than strength or intelligence.  I know we all have days, and there are times we need to complain to our BFFs, but I have little patience general nastiness toward others.

Thank you for stopping by Rafe! And here is a little about Rafe’s holiday story, Little Tree.


littletree

A few days before Christmas, David Weathers finds himself hopping a plane to his childhood home in Florida and doesn’t know why. His parents are gone, he has no siblings, yet something draws him on.

David can almost feel the magic in the air, but then he discovers Jared Acosta, the man who broke his heart twenty years earlier, has moved three doors away. Reluctantly David accepts Jared’s invitation to dinner, only to find that twenty years may not be enough for some wounds to heal.

Soon David seeks advice from his mother’s best friend Marisol, a vibrant, wise woman who believes in second chances. Can she convince David to take a chance on the man who is working so hard to be near him now? Will he be able to forgive a past that left both him and Jared unlucky in love?


Excerpt:

“I came to take you home. I came to tell you that it would be okay now, that we could be together, and that nothing was going to get in our way.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“That whole walk, and it had to have been at least a half-hour, there was barely a time when you quit smiling,” Jared said.

“I was still hurting. You saw that on my face.”

“Yeah, and I knew that I had been the one who had made you feel that way.”

“But you could have been the one who stopped me from feeling that way,” David said.

“Or, I could have just hurt you over and over again. When I saw you with this other guy, and I saw the way he made you laugh, it made me a little happy for you,” Jared said.

“That was George. He was just a friend. He was British and had a really wicked sense of humor. He knew what I was going through. His girlfriend broke up with him when he took the job in Korea. He was the person they hired to take the position you didn’t fill. He was my roommate, but that was it.”

“It didn’t matter,” Jared said. “I saw that you still had the potential to laugh, to go on, to find happiness with some other guy, and that made me feel great. When I saw the two of you with those kids, I started to think about all the possibilities that you could have in your life.”

“Not many gay couples had kids back then,” David said. “Same-sex marriage was far from a reality in most places.”

“But we dreamed of kids,” Jared protested. “We dreamed of them. Lots of gay people dreamed of that possibility. I know you did. I saw the way you interacted with them, not just that day, but any time you were around them. I had seen it a million times. I knew that you’d make an excellent father. Some gay couples found a way to be parents even then.”

“Well, I never did,” David said. “I didn’t want to do it alone, and I never met anyone that I felt was ready for that kind of commitment, or that I was ready to make that kind of commitment to.”

“I ran off that day. I got the hell out of Pusan before I could change my mind. I wanted you to have everything.”

“Well, I didn’t get it,” David replied. “I didn’t find true love, and I didn’t have kids. I didn’t do a lot of things, Jared, and I’m not sure exactly what you want me to do with this information.”

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Know what? That it’s not your fault?” David asked. “That you tried? Or that you didn’t because you didn’t want to hurt me again? Well, I don’t know, Jared. Maybe some of my life’s screw-ups are your fault. Or maybe they’re mine because I trusted you, or I didn’t trust someone else, or I worked too much, or maybe this is just where we end up at the end of the day, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe all of these things matter, and maybe none of them do. I don’t fucking know all the maybes, Jared.”

They sat silent for a moment, staring at each other, Jared in the driver’s seat, David the passenger. Finally, the silence broke.

“I still love you,” Jared said. “I still love you, and there’s no maybe about that.”

David sighed, and then climbed out of the car. With the door still open, he stuck his head back in the passenger side of the car.

“I just really don’t know what you want me to do with this information. You moved three houses away from my parents’ house. My house. Whatever it is. You went to Pusan to come get me. But you didn’t. Then you got married. You tell me you still love me. Now. When I’m forty. What the fuck do you want me to do, Jared? What do you want me to say?”

“Whatever it is that you’re feeling,” Jared said. “That’s all I want to hear. Just tell me the truth.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” David said, standing up straight and slamming the passenger seat door.

He walked up to the house, an agitated gait defining his mood. When he reached the front door, he turned around and looked back. Jared was staring at him from the car. David shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and mouthed, “I don’t know.”


About Rafe Jadison

Rafe Jadison enjoys writing about many different types of people and situations, ultimately believing that we are all pretty much the same. He is author of Seduced by Shark Shifters, Seduced by Shark Shifters II: Logan’s Tail, Seduced by Shark Shifters III: Tom’s Turn, Seduced by Shark Shifters IV: Mark’s Midlife, Reap This, Blake Blacks Out, Little Tree, Snowed In: Dane and Heath, Peter Passenger and the Mothman, and The Divorceary. He has lived in a variety of places, many of them by the water. You can find out more about Rafe at rafejadison.com.

Buy Links

JMS Books
https://www.jms-books.com/rafe-jadison-c-224_381/little-tree-p-2575.html
Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/Little-Tree-Rafe-Jadison-ebook/dp/B07KTXBR46
Barnes and Noble
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/little-tree-rafe-jadison/1129915713?ean=9781634867788
Kobo
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/little-tree-5

X-mas Read | Eight Feet of Magic

X-mas-read

Tomorrow is the first day of Yule, so I thought I’d share a little from the only Yule story I have. Going through my folders to find my files, I realised 24 Dates that was released earlier this month, is the second holiday story I’ve written with an advent calendar.

I should’ve thought of that earlier since I posted Eight Feet of Magic as an advent calendar on my Facebook page last year – one part of the story every day. If you hop on over there and search for Eight Feet of Magic you can read it from beginning to end. Each post has a picture cut out from the cover with a number on it, so it should be easy to find the right order.

I love Eight Feet of Magic. It’s one those stories I wrote more for my sake than with an intended reader in mind. I missed the northern lights (I still miss the northern lights), so I wrote a story with a balloon ship going to the Arctic Circle in December – a good chance of northern lights then.

Steampunk-Eight

Excerpt:

When the northern lights are painting the sky, the old gods are building a bridge from the Earth to the heavens. The Norsemen believed it dangerous not to show respect for the light.

“Hank. Come on, dear, you have to see this.”

Hank flew up into sitting position on the bed. Steel was leaning over him, soot smeared on his cheek and an oil lamp in his hand. His long black hair fell in a tangled mess down his shoulders, and his eyes glowed.

“What is it? Are we crashing?”

Steel snorted, and Hank was on his feet before he could pull in his next breath. It wasn’t until he was standing in his socks on the cold hardwood floor he realised the ship was sailing smoothly. “Is the storm over?”

“Of course. Storms always pass.”

Hank nodded, his heart doing a double beat when Steel grinned at him.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s part of the magic.”

Hank put on his shoes and followed Steel, wondering for how long he’d been sleeping. Outside the air was crisp, a shiver overtook his body, and he wished he’d put on the god-awful wine-red coat.

“Look.” Steel came to stand close enough to touch. He pointed at the dark sky, and Hank noted a green light clinging to the night. It was eerily beautiful, but it had to be some kind of accident or something creating the light.

“What is it?”

“Aurora Borealis. Have you never seen it before?”

“What? No?”

“It does appear in London…on occasion…I think.” He frowned. “Maybe.”

Hank shook his head. He’d never seen anything like it.

“It’s much more common here by the arctic circle, of course. It’s northern lights.”

“Aurora, like the boat?”

“Boat?” Steel threw his hands in the air, then he linked his arm with Hank’s and leaned against him. “Yes, like the boat. She’s a fine airship, though, not a boat.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

“You’d better.”

They silently watched the northern lights. Hank shivered from the cold but didn’t want to leave his place by the railing. “Are we close?”

“To Rovaniemi? I don’t know.” Steel kept his gaze at the green sky, unaware of the apprehension sweeping through Hank’s body.

“You don’t know?” He tried to keep his voice even, but since Steel turned to watch him with raised eyebrows, he must’ve failed.

“The equipment went a bit—” He spun his forefinger in the air. “And I might have forgotten where we were on the map, but the storm brought us closer fast.”

Hank forced in a calming breath. “How much extra coal did you bring?”

Steel shrugged. “None.”

“What?”

“It’ll be all right. Stop fretting.”

“But what if we run out? What if we crash? We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

Steel stared at him for a second. “We’re not. We’re somewhere above Denmark, best case scenario Sweden, worst Germany. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Not a big deal!”

Demetrius came stumbling out on deck. “Keep your voices down.” His hiss made the words in Hank’s mouth die. “You’re disturbing the dead.”

“Disturbing the dead?” Hank stared at Steel and then at Demetrius. Both of them had lost their minds.

“The northern lights. It’s the spirits of the dead playing ball with a walrus skull.”

“Dad, seriously—”

“It is, or it might be the gods building a bridge between the Earth and the heavens. Either way, you’ll show respect.”

Hank opened his mouth to speak, but Demetrius turned to Steel before he could. “I take it this means we’re getting close.”

“It does.” Steel touched his hat but continued to gaze at the sky.

“Good. I want one of you on deck at all times. As soon as you see the Yule Father you come and get me.”

“That’s ridiculous. Dad, even you have to realise—”

“He has a long beard, wears a slouch hat, and rides an eight-legged horse.”

“No, Dad. There are no eight-legged—”

“Shut up. I’ve paid for this; I say how it’s supposed to be.”

Hank filled his lungs to protest, but Steel interrupted. “We’ll do as you wish, but as I said when you hired me, there are no guarantees.”

Hank turned and left; he’d had enough of this nonsense.


Eight Feet of MagicThere is still magic to be found. Even in the bleakest of places.

Hank Goodenough has spent his entire life in the smoggy streets of London trying to keep his head down and not to get noticed. Not an easy feat when you’re the tallest one in the room and have a brass funnel protruding from your head. When he finds himself laid off work once again, his dad wants to drag him away on a crazy quest. Before he can figure out how to get out of it, he finds himself on a steam-driven airship in search of Odin, the old Norse God and sharing a room with Captain Elazar Steel, a man strutting around on one high-heeled boot and one peg leg.

Steel doesn’t care that the winks, smiles, and small touches he and Hank share might get them hanged once they land on the ground again. He is determined to show Hank there is magic in the world and that there is no better place to be than on his balloon ship steering towards the Arctic Circle.

books2read.com/EightFeetOfMagic

Guest Post | Operation Toy Rescue by Sarah Hadley Brook

Guest-Post

Today, we have Sarah Hadley Brook on a visit. She’s here to talk about her story, Operation Toy Rescue – the title makes me smile. So read on, and see what she has to say.


Holiday Traditions

A big thank you to Ofelia Grand for hosting me today! I love writing about the holidays.

I admit it. I’m a cocoa-drinking, holiday-movie-watching, cookie-baking, Christmas-caroling, Rudolph-loving fanatic. As soon as Thanksgiving rolls around, the holiday cookie cutters are out and I’m scrolling through my recipes on Pinterest.

Tradition is comfort for me and each year I have a list of must-watch movies that put me in the holiday movie. I’m not ashamed to admit White Christmas plays on a continuous loop in December. Or that I search daily for A Very Brady Christmas all season long until I finally find it. (I know, I really should buy it, but I think half the fun is looking for it!)

Of course, the classic Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is an absolute must. It may be a children’s show, but I adore the magic of the story. The Island of Misfit Toys was an inspiration for my book.

Operation Toy Rescue looks at the lives of elves at the North Pole—in a decidedly more adult perspective, of course. I wondered, what would happen to a playboy if Santa banished him from the North Pole?

Snow Hope Island certainly doesn’t have the same partying scenes the North Pole does, and Jules Evergreen thinks he’s going to die of boredom. When he meets his boring, by-the-book boss, Felix, he feels a jolt of attraction, but knows a hot fling is out of the question. No parties, no hot sex… what is he going to do to pass the time?

Maybe it’s the setting of the island, the kindness of his new coworkers, or getting to know Felix, but the true holiday spirit manages to find its way into Jules’ heart. For the first time in his life, something else becomes more important to him than his own desires. And Felix definitely takes notice. But is it enough to bring them together?

I had the best time writing this story and hope you enjoy it!

Operation-Toy-Rescue-text

https://books2read.com/u/3krMQW

Excerpt:

Jules popped a pepperoni pizza into the oven and settled into his recliner with the puppy in his arms, eager to watch the news and relax. He’d have to figure out what to do with her in the morning. He wasn’t even sure who to notify. The puppy snorted, and he petted her soft fur, feeling her sink against his chest. He grinned. It wasn’t a bad way to end the day. A warm puppy. Pizza. Maybe he’d call his buddy, Emmanuel, and check out how things were going at the North Pole.

Things were usually ramping up by then. The contracts with toy stores had to be completed soon in order to make sure the Big Guy had enough to deliver across the globe. The reindeer were in full workout mode, ready for the one night of the year they actually worked. Jules chuckled. Those guys had it easy. They were spoiled rotten all year, but he had to admit, they worked their asses off on Christmas Eve.

The elves would be reviewing letters to Santa, sorting through the “Naughty” and “Nice” lists. Another news flash: Santa rarely put anyone on the “Naughty” list. Not a child, anyway—he believed everyone deserved second chances. However, he’d been known to put a few teenagers on the list. One too many tacky Santa memes and it pissed off the Big Guy.

OperationToyRescueIf only Santa would have applied that chance to Jules, he wouldn’t be stuck on the miserable island. He sighed and silently chastised himself. That wasn’t really fair to the Big Guy. Over the years, he’d given Jules more than enough chances to do the right thing, yet he always made the wrong choice. Ending up on Snow Hope was his own fault, and even though it was hard to swallow, Jules knew it.

The timer on the oven beeped. Starving, Jules hurried to take out the pizza, sleepy puppy still in hand. He’d worked through lunch, even when Eve had tried to get him to take a break, because he’d wanted to finish all the new shipments. Admittedly, he also wanted to show Felix he wasn’t a goof-off and could complete a task on time and do a good job. He was pretty sure Felix knew why Jules had been shuffled to the island and, for the first time, his reputation bothered him. He didn’t know why he cared what Felix thought, but for some reason, he did.

And that just pissed him off more.

He cut the pizza and piled a couple of slices onto a plate before resettling in the recliner. Eating dinner alone in front of the TV had become his new norm, and as much as he preferred his privacy, he felt a little lonely. The puppy had already drifted off to sleep on his chest and he smiled. For the first time since arriving on the island, Jules had a dinner companion.


About Sarah:

Sarah Hadley Brook lives smack-dab in the middle of the Heartland and is the mother of two wonderful young men, as well as two cats. During the day, she works in the non-profit world, but reserves evenings for her hobby-turned-passion of writing, letting the characters she conjures up in her mind take the lead and show her where the story will go. When not working or writing, she can be found reading, working on dollhouses, trying her hand at new recipes, or watching old movies and musicals. In her ideal world, Christmas would come at least twice a year, Rock Hudson and Doris Day would have co-starred in more than three movies, and chocolate would be a daily necessity to live. She dreams of traveling to Scotland some day and visiting the places her ancestors lived. Sarah believes in “Happily Ever After” and strives to ensure her characters find their own happiness in love and life.

Website: www.sarahhadleybrookwrites.com
Email: contact@sarahhadleybrookwrites.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorsarahhadleybrook
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/SHadleyBrook/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/SarahHadleyBrook
Instagram: @sarah_hadley_brook_author
QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/?s=sarah+hadley+brook&search_type=book_search