Aiden and Tristan is a collection of all stories I’ve written with Aiden and Tristan as main characters. So much started with Aiden and Tristan. I wrote this back in 2015, mostly as a joke among friends. Amy Spector, Al Stewart, and I were doing NaNoWriMo in December. Don’t ask me how I had the energy to, I had my fourth child on January 8th, 2016.
Anyway, I told them I’d write a story with as many as the M/M Romance tropes I possibly could cram into one little story. Said and done, I wrote and wrote, and Once in a Snowstorm was created.
From there on out, I wrote several stories taking place in Nortown – a small town Up North. Along with every story, I also wrote a short story about Aiden and Tristan since they were the ones who started it all.
When I decided to move all my books to JMS Books, I wanted my Nortows stories to be merged with the Up North story since they take place in the same area, and Nortown appears in several of the other Up North stories. All Up North stories are standalone, so I didn’t want to publish all the Aiden and Tristan stories individually and therefore we have this little collection.
Aiden and Tristan includes:
Once in a Snowstorm
The Empty Egg
Happy Endings
Just Words
Excerpt:
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.
Burb:
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
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Gay Romance: 46,142 words
JMS Books :: Amazon :: books2read.com/AidenandTristan
The Empty Egg
Aiden 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?
Excerpt:
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.
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Gay Erotic Romance: 4,598 words
Ofelia Grand 