Up North | Once in May


It’s time for character introductions again! I had a hard time filling out the forms this time. This is one of my favourite stories that I’ve written, and yet I could hardly say anything about the characters – I blame the way the cards are formulated. 

We have John and Zachary. That I don’t know their exact age is my fault, can’t really blame anyone else, can I? I write that Zach is nearing forty, that he’s ‘ten years, if not more’ older than John, and Jen says John looks young, but that she’d guess he’s over twenty-five.  

When it comes to what they love – both want the cabin John is living in. It’s where John feels safe, and where he wants to spend his time, and it’s where Zach sees his future. 

Hate – that’s a hard one. Why did I choose to include that on the cards?? John is terrified of everyone, it doesn’t really mean he hates them, but I guess he hates situations where he has to interact with people. And Zach, he doesn’t hate his parents, he hates that they can’t accept him for who he is. But that didn’t fit on that short line LOL 

When it comes to strengths and weaknesses, John is dealing with past trauma, he’s not really in a position where he shows off his strengths. He’s a survivor, though. Zach is a friendly guy, most people like him, and he cares about those around him, but as soon as things get tricky, he bails. He lives out of a backpack, never staying more than a couple of months in one place. 

So there’s where we have them. John is a scrawny little thing, and Zach is a big, bearded man. John hides in the corners of a room and Zach takes up space. But Zach is a gentle giant, and he might turn slightly stalkerish when John doesn’t want to talk to him, but what are you gonna do? LOL 

Zachary Fane John Welsh


onceinmayIn an attempt to run from his past, John Welsh has spent the last few years building walls around himself. He knows the best way to stay safe is to keep people at arm’s length and preferably out of sight. During weak moments, he might wish he had someone, but he’s not ready. After all, it takes seven years for the body to replace all its cells. He has four years to go before he’s new.

Zachary Fane is always on the move, always on his way to somewhere. He’s going from job to job, from country to country. Contrary to what people might think, he wants nothing more than to find a place to call home, and he knows just where. This time, he is ready. This time, he will stay in Nortown. This time, things will be different. But when he arrives to buy the log cabin he believed would be his, he finds it inhabited. When he goes to talk to the new owner, he is met by the most beautiful green eyes followed by a door slammed in his face.

John should’ve known the peace he’s found in Nortown wouldn’t last. One day everything is fine, the next a mountain of a man shows up wherever he goes. All Zachary wants is to be close to the quiet man who has moved into his cabin. If following him around is the only way, then so be it. Sooner or later, John will get used to having him there … at least, if Zachary hangs around long enough.

Includes the short story, “Honey Baked.”

Buy links:

Contemporary gay romance: 47,776 words

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

Release Day | Aiden and Tristan


It’s release day! I’m writing those words a lot nowadays (a rather pleasant thing LOL). Today, Aiden and Tristan is released. It’s a collection of all the Aiden and Tristan stories – Once in a Snowstorm, The Empty Egg, Happy Endings and Just Words. 

I feel like I’ve already talked about this book a lot here on the blog, so I think I’ll jump directly to an excerpt so I don’t bore you by repeating things. If you want more, you can read about the characters here and a bit about what to expect going in here.  


Tristan placed the semiconscious man on one of the kitchen chairs. He seemed to wake up all right, but he still hadn’t said anything. Og was walking in circles, wagging his tail and sniffing the stranger’s shoes. The stupid dog would’ve done a happy dance if an axe murderer showed up in the middle of the night, although hopefully his barks were enough to scare away anyone with ill intent.

Tristan glanced around his cabin, trying to figure out how best to get the man warm and dry before sending him on his way. The wood-burning stove was in the middle of the room and worked as a divider between what Tristan liked to call his living room and his kitchen area—in all honesty it was one rather big room with a kitchenette in the far end. He had always thought his log cabin was big enough—at least for him and Og—but with a stranger sitting at the two-seat table, it seemed confined.

Keeping a watchful eye on his visitor, Tristan pushed the worn sofa closer to the stove. “You can start to undress while I go fetch something dry for you.”

For the first time, those green eyes seemed to realise Tristan was there. Some of the fog in them disappeared, and they widened as the man took in his surroundings.

No point waiting for a response, Tristan threw a few logs in the stove and went upstairs—in reality it was more a ladder than a staircase—to find some clothes for the man. The upper floor consisted of one tiny room, where he had to crawl over the bed to get to the other side. It was impossible to walk around it; the angled ceiling was so low, the only place he could stand without banging his head was in the middle, but it was enough for him. He didn’t need more than a place to sleep.

He ruffled through the pile of clean laundry he kept on a chair in the corner of the bedroom. He didn’t have a closet; he hadn’t seen the need since he moved in here, seven years ago. All his clothes fitted on a chair, so why bother building a wardrobe? It wouldn’t fit in this room anyway.

He found a pair of dark-blue sweatpants and a cotton jumper, a pair of cotton socks and a pair of boot socks to go over them—the guy could keep his own underwear on or freeball. Tristan would not be lending a pair to a complete stranger.

He returned downstairs to find Og with his head resting in the stranger’s lap, gazing into those emerald-green eyes. Tristan shook his head at the dog and addressed the man, who seemed more alert now, although he was still out of it.

Why haven’t you undressed? You need to get out of those clothes.” If he sounded annoyed it was because he was. He’d been looking forward to a night in front of the TV, sprawled on the sofa with Og. Now he had to take care of an imbecile in designer clothes who thought a stroll in a snowstorm was a splendid idea.

Tristan clenched his jaw and watched the man slowly raise his hands and look around him in confusion. “Come on, get going.”

Erm…” The man started coughing. “Who are you?”

Tristan wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn’t. “I’m the superhero who saved you from freezing to death in the snow.”

Oh…” The man’s hands shook as he tried to grip the little metal tag on the zip of his jacket—his too-thin jacket.

Tristan sighed. He wasn’t normally a bastard, but something about this man infuriated him. Without another word, he placed the dry clothes on the kitchen table and started to undress the stranger. He could hear his teeth chattering even though he had his mouth shut. A pang of worry went through Tristan. He had to get him out of his wet clothes and onto the sofa in front of the stove.

Tristan worked quickly; he needed to get something warm inside the man to raise his core temperature. Soup, Tristan thought. He’d bought a three-pack of instant soup a while back—mushroom, if he remembered correctly. Why, he didn’t know. He hated instant soup. It tasted like flour. Perhaps he should cook some broth. He had some root vegetables and venison, but it would take too long. Later, maybe.

The skin on the guy’s hairless chest was so cold it almost hurt Tristan’s hands to touch. He didn’t touch more than necessary, but the buttons in the thin cotton shirt wouldn’t unbutton themselves. What the hell possessed someone to go walking in a blizzard without adequate clothing?

Tristan stretched his back and handed the dry jumper over. “Put that on and take off your jeans. They’re soaked.”

Tristan put the sweatpants on the kitchen table and turned to go find the soup. The stranger wasn’t moving, never mind putting on the jumper or sweatpants. His gaze was glued to his screaming-red hands.

Hey!” Tristan snapped his fingers, and those green eyes met his. “Put the jumper on.”

The man nodded and raised his arms in an uncoordinated manner. Tristan held in a sigh—it wasn’t the man’s fault he was frozen to the bone…or wait a minute, yes it was! He reached for the jumper anyway and pulled it over the man’s head. The dark locks had dried somewhat, and a few of them bounced as his head slipped through the neck of the jumper.

Tristan tried not to notice the bouncing curls or the green eyes. He had tried not to notice things like that for the last seven years, and he would continue trying not to notice them in the future as well.

In one harsh movement, he yanked the man into a standing position. He unbuttoned the fly, not noticing how the few hairs on his lower abdomen caressed his knuckles as he tackled one button at a time. When the buttons were done, he grabbed the waistband and pulled. The wet fabric clung to the man’s slender hips, bringing the light-blue bikini briefs with them on the way down. Tristan looked away. He did not want to see shrivelled bits. One glance told him that shrivelled as they might be, they were still mighty fine dangling right in front of his eyes.


aidenandtristanDaring 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?

Contains the stories “Once in a Snowstorm,” “The Empty Egg,” “Happy Endings,” and “Just Words.”

Buy links:

Contemporary M/M Romance: 46,142 words

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

Release Day | The Empty Egg


It’s release day!!! This time it’s a short little freebie. On Saturday, Aiden and Tristan will be released, and it’s a collection of all Aiden and Tristan stories. The Empty Egg is one of them, but my publisher and I thought it might be a good idea to have one of the Aiden and Tristan stories as a freebie. 

When this takes place, they’ve been together a few months, so things are still fairly new, and Aiden has prepared an Easter surprise for Tristan. 

I won’t say more than that. It’s just 4.6k long, so… 


Tristan would be so surprised when he saw the colourful tablecloth, the flowers, and the napkins. No other holiday inspired creativity like Easter did. Okay, maybe Halloween, but there were no bright colours then. 
Aiden wiped his sweaty palms on his new jeans — they made his arse look edible, he hoped Tristan would like them — and put the plates on the table. Before folding the napkins into rabbits, like he’d seen on YouTube, he fetched the egg from the coffee table — should he place it on the table? — righted the yellow tulips in the vase…and ate another piece of Tristan’s fudge. Pecan, possibly the best so far. 
He went to fetch the dessert spoons, slipping another piece into his mouth when he returned. Creamy almond melted on his tongue, and he sighed. Bliss! Too bad it didn’t calm the desperate hammering of his heart. He ate another piece, groaned, and tried to ignore his guilty conscious that was telling him not to have any more of Tristan’s sweets. 
Maybe he should hide the egg. He ran his fingers through his curls, making sure they weren’t too badly tangled. Reaching into the egg again, he almost snatched his hand back when the smooth fabric brushed against his hand. What would it feel like to wear them? Cool and silky, sliding against his skin. Aiden let out an unsteady breath. What if he’d got it all wrong? Heat spread over his cheeks. Maybe he should forget about the egg altogether, hide it, and pretend he’d never planned to give it to Tris. 
He took another piece — salted caramel. Fuck! He shouldn’t have eaten that. He’d only bought a couple of pieces, and he’d already eaten some in the car back from Whiteport. He’d gone for no other reason than to buy fudge at the chocolatier, and it was fucking expensive. He’d bought the jeans, too, as he was already in the city, but they weren’t the reason he’d gone there. Tristan was. 
He checked the vegetables in the oven. There was still time, but Tristan needed to get his fine arse home soon or it would all be ruined. Aiden reached over the plates to snatch another piece of fudge, digging around but feeling only the satin and the soft elastic lace. In one erratic movement, he tipped the egg over, almost bringing down one of the wine glasses with it. 
Two sorry pieces. 
Aiden swallowed, anger and sadness warring in his chest. He’d eaten Tristan’s luxury fudge. He couldn’t give him an Easter egg with two pathetic pieces, that was … pathetic. 
Og’s honey-coloured eyes held none of their usual understanding. If Aiden hadn’t known better, he’d have said that look was downright accusing. Breathing out a puff of air, he slunk down onto one of the kitchen chairs and brought one of the last remaining pieces of fudge to his mouth. Irish coffee. He grimaced. He didn’t like Irish coffee. Tristan did, though. 
A lump formed in his throat, and he cursed the way his eyes burned. He’d planned the dinner so carefully, wanting to give Tristan something special for their first Easter together. 
The last piece—a beautiful banana swirl—tasted bitter though he knew it wasn’t. His belly was full, and he wasn’t nearly as excited about dinner as he’d been a few minutes ago. 
He glanced down into the egg. The black satin and bright-red lace he’d placed there glared mockingly at him. 


theemptyeggAiden has prepared a special Easter egg for his boyfriend, Tristan. He wants to make their first Easter together special, but as the moment for handing over the egg draws nearer, Aiden’s nerves get the better of him. What if he has it all wrong? What if Tristan wants nothing to do with the silky satin hidden within the egg? 
NOTE: This story appears in the collection Aiden and Tristan. 

Download links:

Contemporary M/M Romance: 4,598 words

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