Ally – Page 34 – A. L. Lester

Ofelia Grand: Swedish coffee, cake and small town romances

Hello, everyone! Thank you, Ally, for letting me drop by today. I’m in the middle of moving all my books to JMS Books, so I’m re-publishing a bunch of them, and May is turning out to be the month of small-town romances.

I have three releases this month, actually, that’s a lie, I have five, but Dazzle Me, which was published on May 1st, isn’t a small-town romance, and The Empty Egg, which will be published on the 19th, is included in Aiden and Tristan that’ll be published on the 22nd, so it doesn’t really count LOL.

Let’s just say I have three releases, for the sake of simplicity, and they’re all stand-alone, but they take place in the same town.

When I was sixteen, I figured I’d had enough of living at home with my parents, so I moved. I seldom do things halfway, so I moved 1100 kilometres up north. The place I moved to was a tiny little village with about 3500 inhabitants. I lived there for four years and loved it despite the cold, the dark, and the snow.

One thing you need to know about Sweden is that fika is sacred. You might not know what fika is, and that’s okay. It’s not that easy to explain (this guy does a pretty good job of it), but it’s basically a coffee break together with someone where you’re eating something sweet. We do this every day.

Where I lived, there was a cafe called Simon’s. It wasn’t a very cosy cafe, nothing special at all, but it was the only place you could go to buy a coffee and a cinnamon bun, so it was where we went – where everyone went.

On Saturday and Sunday mornings, it was packed. Everyone went there to catch up on the week’s gossip. It was part of life.

When I wrote the Up North stories, I made the local cafe the social hub of the area. I think, in the UK you have your pubs, we don’t have that, not in the same way you do. We have fika.

A place without a coffee place has no soul.

Pet Delivery :: Aiden and Tristan :: Once in May

Scroll on down for excerpts!

Excerpt from Pet Delivery:

The first thing he noticed as he neared the door to the café was several people inside. He glanced at his watch: twenty past eight. What the hell was everyone doing here? He hadn’t expected the café to get many customers in a day, but as he opened the door, he was greeted by no less than seven pairs of eyes.

“Erm…good morning.” He pulled self-consciously at his sweater, hoping it didn’t draw too much attention to his wobbly middle.

“Good morning.” A red-haired woman smiled at him before grabbing a coffee pot and topping off the cups of two grey-haired women sitting at the corner table with knitting needles in their hands. Both of them smiled and nodded at him. A man completely dressed in green with a full beard and dark eyes was chatting to a man with honey-coloured hair and a model’s good looks. In the farthest corner, a fine-limbed, blond man did his best to avoid Gabriel’s gaze, and by the counter, a red-haired little boy was picking at a plate of scrambled eggs.

Gabriel breathed in deep and neared the counter.

The offerings were sparse. Gabriel couldn’t see any of the pastries he’d fantasised about.

“What can I get you, love?” The red-haired woman walked past him and stepped in behind the counter.

Gabriel looked around, wondering who she was calling love, but she only kept looking at him. “Oh…erm…I’d like a caramel latte and a cinnamon roll, please.”

The green-clad man stopped talking and glared at him. Gabriel’s cheeks heated, and he started stuttering, “O-or a s-salad and a glass of water, please.” He wanted to run out of there, preferably before he was served a salad.

Contemporary M/M Romance: 30,911 words

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Everywhere else!

Excerpt from Aiden and Tristan:

Tristan’s squinted at him but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned back to the red-haired woman. “Could we have some breakfast, Jen?”

She gave Aiden a curious glance, and without thinking, he stood up a little straighter.

“Coming right up.” She gave him a quick smile.

Aiden glanced around for a menu. Didn’tplaces like this usually have laminated home-printed sheets on every table? He could almost see the coffee rings decorating misspelled words and Tippexed old prices, but he still would have liked to look at it before he ordered.

Tristan set off for the table from where he’d fetched the cardigan, indicating to Aiden to follow him over. The other customers began talking again as soon as Tristan sat down. Aiden reluctantly took the chair opposite. Weren’t theygoing to order?

Aiden’s stomach growled at the thought of food, but he wasn’t sure he could digest any greasy bacon or sausages or whatever else they served at a place like this.

“Why didn’t you make the call?” Tristan peered at him from under a creased brow.

“I’d rather wait until the ladies have left, to get a little privacy.”

Tristan did his annoying one-eyebrow thing, a smile almost forming on his lips, but then he turned his attention to the TV.

“Coffee?”

Aiden startled as—Jen?—put down a cup in front of him. He scrunched his nose. Ordinary coffee, probably low budget. “A large latte, please.” He pushed away the cup before she could pour any of the rat poison slushing around in the pot in her hand.

Contemporary M/M Romance: 46,142 words

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Everywhere else!

Excerpt from Once in May:

Zachary crossed the parking lot outside Jen’s café—no cars there yet—and headed for the door. The bell chimed as he stepped inside onto the black-and-white-chequered floor.

Jen looked up from behind the counter and blinked in surprise. “Zachary! It’ll take some getting used to seeing you coming in through the door.” She smiled. Any hostility he might have sensed before was gone, and rightness blossomed in his chest. This was home. Even if he didn’t have a place to stay yet, this was his home.

“Will there be time to get used to it?”

“I hope so, I think so. I’m tired of moving, Jen.”

“Mum?” A red-haired little boy came walking in from the kitchen.

“And who’s this?” Zachary knew who it was, of course, but he hadn’t actually met Luke. Another pang of guilt hit. Shit, he hadn’t even been home to see the kid.

“This is Luke.” Jen looked at Luke with a motherly warmth that Zachary could not recall his own mother ever possessing.

“Hi, little man. What are you doing?”

“Puzzles.” Luke held up the tablet he was carrying, showing off a puzzle of a kitten that was half done.

“Oh, you’re good at puzzles?”

Luke nodded and went to sit at one of the tables.

“He’s screen-obsessed.” Jen huffed. “I gave him several jigsaws for his birthday, he doesn’t touch them. But he can spend hours playing puzzles on the tablet.”

“Kids, eh?” Zachary grinned, remembering what Jen had looked like when she was a little girl. She was a few years younger than him, and he remembered her red pigtails bouncing when she skipped rope outside this very café. It didn’t seem too long ago, and yet it was.

“Were we ever that young?” Her eyes held a touch of sadness as she looked over at Luke.

“We were.”

With a smile, she turned back to him. “What can I get you? Breakfast?”

“Nah, just a coffee.”

Jen poured him a cup and handed it over.

“The blond kid who was in here yesterday…” Zachary raised an eyebrow as he looked at Jen.

“Kid?” She laughed.

“Looked pretty young to me.” He shrugged, hoping for some information, any information.

Contemporary M/M Romance: 47,776 words

JMS Books

About Ofelia:

Ofelia Gränd is Swedish, which often shines through in her stories. She likes to write about everyday people ending up in not-so-everyday situations, and hopefully also getting out of them. She writes romance, contemporary, paranormal, Sci-Fi and whatever else catches her fancy.

Her books are written for readers who want to take a break from their everyday life for an hour or two.

When Ofelia manages to tear herself from the screen and sneak away from her husband and children, she likes to take walks in the woods…if she’s lucky she finds her way back home again.

Find Ofelia on social media:

Blog :: Newsletter :: Instagram :: Facebook Page :: Facebook Profile :: Goodreads :: Bookbub :: Pinterest

Exclusive excerpt for newsletter subscribers: The Fog of War

The Fog of War

Will her friend Lucy’s visit to Bradfield be the catalyst that allows Dr Sylvia Marks to put her wartime hospital experiences to rest? Unbelievable magical happenings at a local farm—lights, mysterious illness and a patient with hallucinations—give her hope that her dead lover Anna is still alive. But what does that mean for Sylvia’s nascent relationship with Lucy?

Bradfield Trilogy #1, Border Magic Universe. 51k words. Low heat.

Sylvia Marks is thirty-four. She qualified as a doctor in 1910 and has just spent four years in a field hospital in France staffed entirely by women. She is DONE with dealing with people who don’t realise she’s the best battlefield surgeon of her generation, male or female. She wears trousers when she feels like it. She’s 5’8-tall for a woman-and has long brown hair she wears in a coil at the back of her head. She’s thin and slightly stooped because she’s used to hiding her height and trying not to intimidate people, and wears glasses to read. Brown eyes. Drives a big car and a motorcycle. She smokes French cigarettes and drinks brandy.

Lucille Hall-Bridges is twenty-three. She’s spent three years as a nurse in France. She’s enjoying the freedom from responsibility that the end of the war has brought her. She’s got bobbed brown hair and brown eyes. She’s discovered clothes again and is very chic. Has an astonishing collection of hats. She’s not quite bad-mannered enough to be a flapper, but she understands why they’re so raucous. Likes to drive fast. Can’t see a wrong without trying to right it.

Excerpt

Sylvia Marks is coming soon! A 1920s lesbian romance. With magic and suspense. And tea. The first of a new trilogy set in the Border Magic universe.

It was a beautiful late August day when Sylvia motored down to Taunton to collect Lucy from the railway station. The sun shone through the trees as she followed the lane down the hill from the village and the sky above was a beautiful summer blue. She had left the all-weather hood of the Austin down and wore a scarf and gloves against the wind, topping her trouser outfit off with her new hat, which she pinned firmly to the neat coil of her long hair.

Walter had watched her fussing with her appearance in the hall mirror, stuffing his pipe. “Are you sweet on her?” he asked, somewhat acerbically.

“It’ll be cold with the hood down,” she said, crushingly.

“Yes, yes, so it will be.” He turned his attention back to his tobacco, face straight. “Be careful on the bends.”

“I will,” she said. “She’s a beast to drive, smooth on the straights and handles well on the corners, but I’ve no desire to end up in the ditch.”

She’d bought the big Austin coupe late last winter when she’d got fed up riding her motorcycle out to some of the more remote houses she was called to in the dreadful weather. It was huge, far bigger than she needed really, although the back seat was useful to transport a patient if she had to. She still preferred her ‘cycle, but it wasn’t exactly suitable as a doctor’s vehicle. Not very staid at all. The Austin wasn’t very staid either, in that it was huge and expensive; but one of the benefits of a private income was that she could afford it; and so why not be comfortable?

She pondered all this and more on the drive down to Taunton, mind floating along with no real purpose. She loved to drive and for some reason it calmed her thoughts and allowed them to drift.

It would be lovely to see Lucy again. As Walt had said, she was a sweet little thing. Although Sylvia didn’t want to revisit the grim minutiae of some of the worst times at Royaumont, it would be lovely to reminisce about some of their happier moments of camaraderie. It had been four years of extreme stress and grim terror lightened with moments of laughter and fun. Working with a team of competent women all pulling together for one purpose had been extraordinary. She’d never experienced anything like it before and she doubted she would again. She was delighted some of the staff had set up a regular newsletter so they could all stay connected.

And so what if Lucy was sweet on her. Sylvia wasn’t interested in that kind of complication anymore. She didn’t want to cause gossip in the village for a start…although she supposed people wouldn’t make any assumptions about two women living together these days after so many men hadn’t come home from France. But anyway, even if it wouldn’t cause gossip, she didn’t think about Lucy like that. And she doubted Lucy thought about Sylvia like that, despite Walter’s teasing. He was stirring the pot a little to see what bubbled up, that was all.

Those musings took her to the station.

The train was on time and was just pulling in as she got out of the car. She walked out onto the platform as the smoke was clearing and through the clouds, she made out Lucy.

She was beside the guard’s van, directing the guard and porters to what seemed like an unnecessarily large pile of luggage. Despite the clement August weather, she was wearing an extremely smart velvet coat with a fur collar over a beautiful travelling suit that hung to mid calf, topped with an extraordinary confection of a hat.

She looked competent and sophisticated and exceptionally beautiful. Not at all the slightly scapegrace young person of 1916 who had persuaded the hospital powers-that-be she was a suitable candidate for France, although she’d been only twenty-one and inexperienced as a nurse.

Well. Gosh.

The Fog of War will be released on 10th July 2021 by JMS Books!

Was there a real Robin Hood? Edale Lane

The real Robin Hood story! Live the adventure! The Heart of Sherwood.

Today we welcome Melodie Romero (writing as Edale Lane) to the blog to talk about her historical lesbian romance, Heart of Sherwood! Welcome, Melodie!

Heart of Sherwood is a gender-bent action-adventure-romance novel that places the Robin Hood legend in alignment with historical facts. In preparing for writing the manuscript, I studied every Robin Hood story I could find, watched all the film versions, and carefully researched historical people and events that would have likely coincided with the hero had he (or she) truly lived. As a historian, I know well that most myths and legends are based on actual people and events that have since been exaggerated and romanticized, but whether male or female, was the enigmatic outlaw a real person?

The first literary reference to Robin Hood dates to 1377 and the various early tales place him in different centuries and hailing from varying locals. The British Museum preserves several antique manuscripts, each claiming to chronicle the famous outlaw’s life. Most versions agree that Sherwood Forest was his hang-out, and he robbed the rich to give to the poor. The latter made him a folk hero, whether or not he ever lived. But if there was a Robin Hood, would the character necessarily be a man? Some of the earliest Robin Hood stories describe him as a beardless youth, only 14 or 15 years of age. While he became older and more sophisticated with later accounts, historians often put more trust in the earliest manuscripts. In the Medieval Period being male was a prerequisite to becoming a knight or skilled fighter (a few exceptions such as Joan of Arc not withstanding); however, throughout the ages there have been times when women disguised themselves as men in order to engage in unconventional behavior, such as fighting in a war. There existing no concrete evidence of a benevolent outlaw known as Robin Hood, it is not inconceivable that the person upon whom the legend is based could have been a woman in disguise. Besides, in my retelling of the story, the circumstance of her femininity constitutes the very reason the name of Robin Hood was omitted from all official records.

The Sloan Manuscript written towards the end the sixteenth century states that “Robin Hood was born in Locksley in Yorkshire or after other in Nottinghamshire, in ye days of Henry II about ye yeare 1160, but lived tyll ye latter end of Richard Ye Fyrst”. He is also referred to as “Robin of Locksley” by Sir Walter Scott in “Ivanhoe,” (1819), and has been known by that title ever since. Anthony Munday depicted the inscrutable outlaw as the Earl of Huntington in his 1589 plays, but I have chosen to stay true to the most familiar version of Hood as the Earl of Loxley (or in my case, the Earl’s daughter).

The world of cinema in filled with Robin Hood movies from silent films to current day, and I drew from all of them, particularly the Errol Flynn 1938 version while not ignoring the Disney animated classic. Both retellings include Prince John and King Richard, while some other tales do not. Curiously, I discovered that none of the written stories or movies include a most notable character in Queen Eleanor (probably because they were all written by men). While Richard was being held for ransom and John was trying to cheat his way to the throne, she stood as regent, the de facto ruler of England. I included this most remarkable woman of her era as a major character in my novel.

You can’t have a Robin Hood story without Maid Marian, and Heart of Sherwood is no exception, weaving a sweet FF romance into the action. Maid Marian was not in the earliest Robin Hood ballads, but first mentioned around 1500. There was a “Marian of the May Games” from French tradition who was a shepherdess with a lover called Robin, and it has been suggested that the two tales merged at some point. From the late 1500s both Robin and Marian began to be portrayed as nobles who had a relationship ranging from friendship to marriage. In an Elizabethan play, Anthony Munday identified Maid Marian with the historical Matilda, daughter of Robert FitzWalter, a real-life supporter of King Richard who was forced to flee England after a failed attempt to assassinate the then King John. This representation of Maid Marian has held for centuries of lore, so I kept it.

Perhaps we are nowhere nearer to answering the question of authenticity surrounding one of England’s greatest heroes, but historians continue to search for answers. Could it be that the real reason there is no official chronical of Robin Hood’s noble acts is the simple fact that “he” had been a “she”? Read Heart of Sherwood and decide for yourself!

Heart of Sherwood was named finalist at Imaginarium 2019 and won the Rainbow Award for Best Historical Lesbian Romance of 2019.

Heart of Sherwood

When Robyn’s father and brother are killed in the Third Crusade, she is thrown off her manor by the opportunistic Sheriff of Nottingham and branded a traitor. In the guise of a boy, she joins Little John and the gang in Sherwood Forest and soon becomes their leader. Maid Marian has always been Robyn’s best friend, but now they are no longer children and their feelings for each other have grown. Queen Eleanor has employed Marian as a spy in Nottingham when she suspects Prince John of plotting with the Sheriff and Sir Guy. It is up to three strong women to save Richard’s kingdom. Can they succeed, or will John usurp the throne when the Sheriff ends Robyn’s life at the point of his blade?

Buy Heart of Sherwood

About Edale/Melodie

Edale Lane is the alter-ego of author Melodie Romeo, (Tribute in Blood, Terror in Time, and others) who founded Past and Prologue Press. Both identities are qualified to write historical fiction by virtue of an MA in History and 24 years spent as a teacher, along with skill and dedication in regard to research. She is a successful author who also currently drives a tractor-trailer across the United States. A native of Vicksburg, MS, Edale (or Melodie as the case may be) is also a musician who loves animals, gardening, and nature, and is in the process of moving to beautiful Chilliwack BC, Canada.

Amazon author pages: Edale Lane – Melodie Romero : Website

Edale Lane’s Night Flyer Trilogy

Merchants of Milan, book one of the Night Flyer Trilogy

Secrets of Milan, book two of the Night Flyer Trilogy

Chaos in Milan, book three of the Night Flyer Trilogy

Nell Iris: So Far Away

Hi everyone, I hope you’re having a good day! I’m Nell Iris, and I’m here to talk about my latest release, So Far Away. But first I’d like to extend my warmest and most sincere gratitude to Ally, who’s invited me here today. Thank you so much, you’re the best! 😊

The idea for So Far Away came to me some months ago back when I read about an old married couple in the news, a couple who were separated because of the pandemic. One of them lived in a nursing home, but the other didn’t, and because of restrictions to stop the spread, they could only see each other through a window. That story tugged on my heartstrings, but also, it made my head spin with “what if?” questions and the seed of this story was sowed.

I was hesitant at first; writing about a pandemic amidst a pandemic is a delicate business. I didn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone who’s lost a loved one, and then there’s the fact that the restrictions taken to prevent the spread look different in every country which would also be a minefield to navigate.

But the idea was persistent and wouldn’t let me go, so I put pen to paper and started to write, deciding I’d at least see where it took me. And it soon became clear that the story I wanted to tell was exploring that helpless feeling I’m sure many of us have felt over this past year. That feeling that we’re not in control of our own lives, that what we can and cannot do is decided by outside factors and governments. And even if we understand why it has to be this way and do our best to abide by the restrictions, it doesn’t make the situation less frustrating. It doesn’t the feeling of powerlessness.

When I realized that’s where the story was headed, I decided to invent a virus. I didn’t name it and I’ve kept the symptoms deliberately vague, symptoms I borrowed from several different viruses, because it’s not the virus itself that’s the focus of this story, it’s the circumstances the virus creates. That’s the story I wanted to tell.

Nell Iris: So Close, Yet So Far Away. I lay my hand back on the window, and with my other hand, I tap over my heart three times. That make shim smile: it's just a slight upsturn by the corners of his mouth, but for a second I see him. My Julian. He repeats the gesture back at me, I love you, too, then the waves and turns to leave.

Excerpt:

When we’d just bought it, we spent many long evenings making plans and discussing options. We’d share a bottle of wine and make long lists of things we wanted, things we deemed necessary in what was going to be our forever home. The lists started outrageously—a wine cellar bigger than the actual house with an employee who turns the bottles? Really, Zakarias?—but distilled into a few reasonable items. So Julian’s dream of the biggest bathroom in the northern hemisphere—a Bath Palace, Zakarias, not a bathroom—complete with a pool, a jacuzzi, a sauna, and every other imaginable luxury, turned into a more feasible sized room with a fancy walk-in shower and a separate bathtub with jets—both of them big enough to accommodate the two of us. It also has a heated floor and double sinks. And my favorite feature; the tiny lights over the bathtub, sprinkled in the ceiling like a starry sky.

We both love the house; it’s our sanctuary. Every design element is chosen for comfort and to make it feel like a real home. Like someplace we can be ourselves. Someplace we can grow old together.

There are things left to do on the house before we’re happy with it, and we still spend evenings on the couch, sipping wine and making lists. Evenings that more often than not turn into heavy make-out sessions on the couch, with clothes being torn off and strewn about. Evenings that end with us panting in a sticky mess and blissed-out grins on our faces, but without deciding what to do with whatever room we’re considering remodeling at the time. “The discussion is half the fun,” he’ll say with sparkling eyes, and my mouth agrees, while I’m thinking the discussion is all the fun, because I could live in a tiny shack in the forest and be happy as long as he lived there with me.

But this house…it’s not just a house, it’s a home. Our home and I miss it.

I miss coming home from work and finding Julian sprawled on the couch in only his underwear, watching some horrid reality show or other on the big screen TV. I miss waking up early on weekends and preparing luxury breakfasts for him, miss how the scent of freshly baked bread never fails to wake him and lure him out of bed. I miss the adorable sight of him stumbling into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, hair in disarray with pillow creases on his cheek and dried drool on his chin. I miss how he beelines for me like a heat-seeking missile and winds himself around me, burying his face in my neck, snaking his arms around me, and tapping three times over my heart.

His family came up with that code when he was little; his younger sister was born with a genetic developmental disorder and never learned to speak, so three taps to the heart meant “I love you.” She died when she was only five, but the family keeps her memory alive with that gesture. It was how Julian told me he loved me for the first time. I didn’t understand it at the time, but when he told me the story, I realized he’d been telling me he loved me long before the words were spoken out loud.

I straighten my spine. Shake my head at my moment of weakness before marching back to the guesthouse and pulling a sweater over my head. I pour out the cold forgotten contents of my mug and pour fresh, steaming coffee into it.

Then I sit, take a sip, and breathe.

So Far Away

Engaged couple Zakarias and Julian are convinced nothing can separate them…until a global pandemic hits. Zakarias catches the virus with mild symptoms and isolates in the couple’s guest house. The few meters dividing them might as well be the moon as he watches Julian, an ICU nurse, work himself to the bone, unable to support him the way he needs. Frustration and worry build as the weeks pass. Will Zakarias be declared healthy before Julian burns out?

M/M Contemporary / 14 567 words

Buy links: JMS Books:: Amazon :: Books2Read

About Nell

Nell Iris is a romantic at heart who believes everyone deserves a happy ending. She’s a bonafide bookworm (learned to read long before she started school), wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without something to read (not even the ladies room), loves music (and singing along at the top of her voice but she’s no Celine Dion), and is a real Star Trek nerd (Make it so). She loves words, bullet journals, poetry, wine, coffee-flavored kisses, and fika (a Swedish cultural thing involving coffee and pastry!)

Nell believes passionately in equality for all regardless of race, gender or sexuality, and wants to make the world a better, less hateful, place.

Nell is a bisexual Swedish woman married to the love of her life, a proud mama of a grown daughter, and is approaching 50 faster than she’d like. She lives in the south of Sweden where she spends her days thinking up stories about people falling in love. After dreaming about being a writer for most of her life, she finally was in a place where she could pursue her dream and released her first book in 2017.

Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, short over long, and quirky characters over alpha males.

Find Nell

Newsletter :: Webpage/blog :: Twitter :: Instagram :: Facebook Page :: Facebook Profile :: Goodreads :: Bookbub :: Pinterest :: Ko-Fi

May’s draw for newsletter subscribers and facebook group members!

It’s time for a new giveaway! If you’re a member of my facebook group or a newsletter subscriber, you get a chance each month to join in a giveaway draw. Usually for ebook or audio copies of my books in some form; but in the past I’ve successfully managed to post ereader covers and small felted cows to the other side of the world from me!

May’s draw is for an audio copy or an ecopy of The Flowers of Time.

The Flowers of Time

A determined lady botanist and a non-binary explorer make the long journey over the high Himalayan mountain passes from Kashmir to Little Tibet, collecting flowers and exploring ruins on the way. Will Jones discover the root of the mysterious deaths of her parents? Will she confide in Edie and allow her to help in the quest?

It’s a trip fraught with perils for both of them, not least those of the heart.

A stand-alone f/enby romance set in the Lost in Time universe, in the Himalayas in 1780. About 50,000 words.

Pop on over and join and you’ll find the link at either the top of the group or the bottom of my next newsletter!