The Naked Gardening Day Box Set is out on 5th November!
Remember the five gay romance stories we released back in May to celebrate World Naked Gardening Day? Well we have gathered them together in a box set. We had a bit of to-and-fro-ing about what to use for the cover, but eventually we all agreed this was a superb image–radishes and forearms! What more could you want!
They are all MM romance novellas featuring being naked in a garden somehow, somewhere, to mark World Naked Gardening Day on 7th May 2022.
Back when they came out, we did some visiting of each other’s blogs to chat about our stories. You can find everyone’s guest posts here on the blog with a little bit about each story and an excerpt.
Hi! Thank you, Ally, for allowing me to swing by 🥰 I’m Holly Day, and for those who don’t know me, I write stories to celebrate all those crazy holidays out there.
This month, we’re celebrating Bookstore Romance Day, so I wrote The Book Dragon’s Lair, and I had so much fun with it. I turned it into a dragon tale since books and bookshops made me think of book dragons, and, so… yeah, dragons 😆
It takes place in a town called Edge since it’s right on the edge of the portal leading to the dragon realm. There are a few dragons who have chosen to live among the humans instead of on the other side of the veil, and they’re all living on Dragon Row. Dragons be dragons, they’re trading for things they can put in their treasure caves.
Egil is human and believes he’s mated to Draken the Dreadful and forever trapped in an abusive relationship. He isn’t, though. This isn’t a fated mate story, so everyone has a choice in who they mate with, well everyone but Egil who was forced to accept Draken.
When a dragon finds someone they want to spend the rest of their lives with, they share the breath of life. All Egil knows is that dragons, when bonded, stay together forever. He doesn’t realise he isn’t bonded, and he has never heard of the breath of life.
When Draken is called away to fight in a war on the other side of the veil, no one is happier than Egil, but then word of Draken being injured and on his way back reaches him, and he considers running away.
How do you hide from a dragon?
The dragon stepping into the bookshop isn’t Draken. He claims to be, but Egil knows his mate, and the one standing before him is not Draken the Dreadful.
Ryu the Ravenous wants nothing more than to escape his responsibilities in the dragon realm and spend the rest of his days among the humans. When Draken and Ryu are attacked during guard duty, Ryu is injured, and Draken is killed. Ryu seizes the opportunity and pretends to be Draken. He lets his family believe he was the one who died, and by pretending to be Draken, he’s allowed into the human realm and back to his (Draken’s) mate.
Convincing Egil he is Draken isn’t as easy as he’d first believed. And he’s heard the humans had the magic beverage called coffee, but it turns out to be a bitter drink and not magical at all – this is fiction, people! We all know coffee is magical 😆
The Book Dragon’s Lair
Egil Olsen is running The Book Dragon’s Lair, a bookstore on Dragon Row, while Draken the Dreadful, his mate, is away fighting a war on the other side of the veil. The relief of not having Draken around is great. For the first time in years, Egil doesn’t have to watch every move he makes. When word reaches him that Draken is on his way home after having been injured, he considers running away.
The dragon stepping over the threshold to The Book Dragon’s Lair isn’t Draken, though. He claims to be, but Egil knows his mate, and while all dragons are dangerous, the male standing before him is nowhere near as cruel as his mate. Ryu never wanted to be a book dragon. Books don’t sparkle, but if it’s the price he has to pay to be in the human realm, he will pay it. He’ll take over Draken the Dreadful’s treasure, and he hopes he can take over his mate, too. Egil doesn’t want to be mated to a dragon, but without a mate, he’d be homeless and without a job.
A few hours after having met Ryu, Egil thinks being mated to him might not be too bad, but how will they be able to fool the people around them into believing Ryu is Draken? And what will happen if the real Draken comes back?
Ryu watched Egil interact with the customers. When he’d come down after having disposed of the vile drink he’d heard so much good about—so far, the human realm was a disappointment—Egil had been gone. A few minutes later, he’d come in through the front door with an expression on his face Ryu couldn’t decipher.
He muttered about having checked something out in the pawnshop, then he’d gone to work. Ryu wasn’t sure what he did, but he fiddled through papers, stacked some books, and when someone came into the store, he helped them find what they were looking for.
Draken should have expressed more pride when talking about him. He worked hard and little by little the stack of paper notes increased in the machine on the counter. It was fascinating to watch.
Ryu quickly divided the customers into two categories—those who came inside wide-eyed and looked around until they spotted Ryu, and those who came inside to sneer at Egil.
One female was so rude, Ryu growled. She jumped at the sound and stared at him. Ryu would’ve bet the tip of his tail she hadn’t noticed he was in the room before then.
When the clock finally showed six o’clock in the evening, Egil turned the sign hanging on the door and locked it.
“All done?” Ryu was starving, but he didn’t know what to eat here. He’d only had the coffee, and it had put him off human food a bit.
“Yes, I only need to close out the cash register.”
Ryu had no idea what it meant. “And then we eat?”
“Ah… yeah… we don’t have any food other than toast. I need to shop and we’ll need a new phone since you… erm… broke the old one.”
Nodding, Ryu watched him press some buttons, only to have the machine print another paper note. There were so many notes on this side of the veil.
“I can hunt for something we can eat.” His mouth watered as he imagined meat roasting over an open fire.
Egil stared at him. “What?”
“Hunt. Don’t you hunt?”
Shaking his head, Egil emptied the machine on paper notes and held them out to Ryu. Hesitantly, he took them. “What am I to do with them?”
“They’re yours. Put them in the safe.”
He fished out the key he’d taken off Draken from his pocket. “In the treasure cave?”
Egil pushed his palms against the counter and looked at him. “Who are you?”
“Draken the—”
“You’re not Draken, not the real Draken.”
“Ryu the Ravenous.”
Egil blew out a shuddering breath. “Okay, Ryu the Ravenous, what are you doing here, and how did you come over Draken’s key? He’s gonna kill us both.”
Ryu snorted. As if Draken could’ve killed him if he’d been alive. He was a sad excuse for a dragon.
Egil continued to stare. “Are you related to him?”
Ryu scowled. Related to Draken the Dreadful? Luckily, Draken’s mother hadn’t hatched more than one egg. There was talk about her laying another one, but maybe she should refrain considering how the first one came out. “I’m Ryu the Ravenous, my skin is close to onyx, and I know those who live on the Sapphire Mountains.”
Egil’s eyes widened more, and Ryu feared those gemstones would fall out of his skull.
“Do you mean no? Draken won’t kill us?”
Ryu puffed smoke in frustration.
“Don’t set the books on fire! If you need to burn something, go outside.”
Need to burn? No one ever needed to burn anything. Fire was a weapon and a tool, not something you needed to use.
“It’s a no. Draken the Dreadful was a dreadful excuse for a dragon. I’m close to royal.”
Egil blinked and Ryu was glad to see his eyelids still could close around the huge eyes. “You’re royal?”
“Close to.”
Egil gripped the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. “This is bad.”
“No, it’s not. I had a huge treasure cave on the other side of the veil.” And many who wanted to be his mate. Why didn’t Egil want to be his mate? He was close to royal and while he hadn’t had the opportunity to add anything to his treasure on this side of the veil yet, he would. He hadn’t looked, hadn’t unlocked the grid doors on the second and third floor. He didn’t understand books—he understood written text, but not the worth of books—and he was a little afraid to have a look.
“Why are you here, then?” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but Ryu heard him.
“I’ve claimed Draken’s treasure.”
“You didn’t claim it. You pretended to be him.” Then those topaz eyes widened again. “If the reverend finds out…”
“I’ll eat the reverend. I’ve never had human, but right now I’m hungry enough to eat anything, and he annoys me.”
Egil made a sound. At first, Ryu feared he was crying. It sounded like a sob and his shoulders shook, but then a laugh spilled out. It wasn’t joyous though, more on the verge of sobs. Maybe he was hungry, too. Hunger could turn anyone unstable.
“Let’s have this toast you’re talking about.” He believed it was something humans did from grains. He read, he wasn’t a complete imbecile, but right now he didn’t trust anything he’d learned. Coffee was supposed to be magical, and it hadn’t been.
According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.
Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.
Chickens!!! Erm… I mean hello, and thank you, Ally, for allowing me to drop by today. I’m here to talk about my new story, Perfect Rows, which was released yesterday. It’s part of our World Naked Gardening collaboration – World Naked Gardening Day was also yesterday. If you missed it but still want to give it a go, watch out for the nettles 😉
My excitement about chickens is that I have baby chicks, and this spring I’ve had one broody hen who’s been sitting on eggs. I know very little about broody hens other than that they’ll try to kill you if you get too close. We have two rows of nesting boxes, and she of course decided to have her babies on the second floor. Sigh. So we’ve had a couple of fun nightly adventures where we’ve gone out in the pitch dark to move her and her eggs. She’s been gracious about it – not! But after two tries we managed to get her settled in her own space where the nesting boxes are on ground level so no chicks will fall to their death.
In case you didn’t know, I’m slightly obsessed with chickens. This is a rather new thing for me. I’ve only kept hens for about three years, so I’m essentially a newbie. I often pester Ally, who’s an expert on the matter, with questions.
Sometimes when you write a story, you add little things for your own amusement. In Perfect Rows, Grayson wants to have chickens. He’s all about food security and sees the benefits of having chickens. He can feed his food scraps to his hens and get eggs for him and manure for the garden in return.
He has big plans.
Camden has big plans too. He wants a beautiful garden with lots of flowers. He pictures plants growing in perfect lines where nothing is out of place. He wants sweet fragrances and buzzing bees. And he most definitely doesn’t want any chickens. No crowing roosters are gonna interrupt his mornings.
The problem?
Camden and Grayson share the garden. They’re living in two cottage-style houses facing each other that once belonged to Grayson’s grandmother and her sister. Between the houses is an old kitchen garden with large raised beds, a greenhouse, and a barbeque area.
Grayson’s grandmother and her sister didn’t have any problems sharing the space. Grayson and Camden… there are some problems. The chicken issue is just one of them.
I had so much fun writing this one, and in case you didn’t realise, I’m on team Grayson. It’s not that I dislike Camden; it’s just that he’s wrong. Everyone should have chickens LOL
Perfect Rows
Everything would’ve been perfect if Grayson Dawe hadn’t been forced to share his garden with Camden Hensley. Grayson has everything he needs in life – a job, friends, a house he loves, and a garden. He wants to grow enough vegetables to cover his needs over the summer, and he has a plan for how to achieve it.
Camden Hensley loves his garden. He loves beautiful flowers in perfect rows, sweet scents and buzzing bees, but his neighbor, Grayson, messes everything up. He mixes vegetables with flowers in the growing beds and is incapable of placing plants in straight lines. And when Cam pulls out the plants growing in the wrong place, Grayson snarls at him.
Grayson doesn’t want to fight with Camden, but he’s completely unreasonable. Cam only wants Grayson to stop creating chaos and to grow flowers instead of vegetables. Neither of them is willing to back down, and days in the garden usually end in shouting matches, at least until Grayson realizes he can shut Cam up by kissing him. But will they ever be able to agree about what plants should grow where?
Camden Hensley watched Grayson stalk off and blew out a breath. That was one fine ass; too bad it was attached to an ass. The garden could be lovely, it was lovely, but it could be truly beautiful if Grayson could only find it in himself to be a little more organized. Everything was higgledy-piggledy with Grayson. Everything. The way he dressed, the mess in his car—he mixed black T-shirts with white when he washed, for fuck’s sake. Though, Cam guessed he should be glad he washed at all.
A painter.
Who wanted to paint walls all day? And this obsession with chickens... He shook his head. It had started as soon as Grayson had moved in. He hadn’t been there more than a day or two before he’d approached Cam about wanting to build a chicken coop.
They would not have chickens running around, roosters crowing at dawn—no, thank you.
Cam loved his home, loved the garden, and the peace that came with living outside the city. But everything had been so much better when Frances had been alive. She’d been an adorable little lady and instead of criticizing everything Camden did in the garden, she’d been pleased.
He couldn’t believe Grayson was her grandson. They were nothing alike—not in appearance, not in manner, and Frances had never snarled at him. She baked cookies and used them as bribes to get him to sit with her in the garden and chat for a bit. She was easygoing, satisfied with life, and it was a welcome break from the ugliness of the world.
The garden had been his oasis until Grayson had moved in. Loud, demanding Grayson. He towered over Camden as if he believed his size would intimidate him. It did, but he’d never admit it.
Cam remembered Grayson from school, though he doubted Grayson remembered him. He’d been the rail-thin kid in the corner with unwashed clothes whose mother forgot to pack lunch on field day. She forgot to serve dinner too, but it wasn’t as obvious as the lack of lunch on field day.
Grayson had been wild. Not mean, but loud, though Camden had been terrified of him. He’d spent more time roaming the corridors than he had attending lessons, and then one day he’d been gone. Cam didn’t know what had happened, but someone had said he was working at his uncle’s painting firm, and since he was a painter now, Camden assumed the rumor had been true. He’d been fifteen then, so Grayson had been sixteen.
Camden looked at the house Grayson had stormed off to. Twenty-one years of painting walls, no wonder he was growling all the time. Cam would’ve died of boredom. Perhaps he should give in on the chickens simply to give Grayson something new in his life—no. No chickens. No noise. No mess. If Grayson wanted more excitement in his life, he could go back to school and get himself a better job.
He glanced at the house again. Had Grayson put on clothes?
According to Holly Day, no day should go by uncelebrated and all of them deserve a story. If she’ll have the time to write them remains to be seen. She lives in rural Sweden with a husband, four children, more pets than most, and wouldn’t last a day without coffee.
Holly gets up at the crack of dawn most days of the week to write gay romance stories. She believes in equality in fiction and in real life. Diversity matters. Representation matters. Visibility matters. We can change the world one story at the time.
The Naked Gardening Day stories are a collaboration between Holly Day, Nell Iris, A. L. Lester, K. L. Noone and Amy Spector. They comprise five MM romance novellas featuring being naked in a garden somehow, somewhere, to mark World Naked Gardening Day on 7th May 2022.
This month’s topic for Read Around the Rainbow is the brainchild of Addison Albright—and I’m really looking forward to her post revealing whatever prompted this suggestion! As some of you already know, #RAtR is a blogging project I am doing with a few friends who also write LGBTQIA romance. You can find everyone by clicking here or on the image to the right, and I will link to everyone’s post on this month’s topic at the bottom of this page.
So. My weirdest internet search? For this question, I usually talk about researching butter lamps for The Flowers of Time and making my own butter from scratch and then rendering it to ghee and making a lamp in a jam-jar with a bit of string. I got a bit obsessed. I’ve downgraded that particular search to ‘only mildly obsessive’ over the last few years though, as things have moved on!
I’m pretty sure that everyone who writes about murder or death has a disturbing search history story; and for The Quid Pro Quo I joined the team. I researched what a body would look like after being submerged for twenty four hours. I don’t recommend googling this for fun—I can still see some of the images in the articles I read and it was deeply unpleasant and upsetting.
When I’m researching things I know nothing about I find it very easy to get sucked into a rabbit-hole where I spend an unnecessary amount of time on subjects that are only going to be mentioned in passing in the story. I need to get the background straight in my head in order to be able to drop a couple of colourful details in there. If it’s something I know a bit about already, even if that’s only incidental knowledge, it’s much easier to know what it is I don’t know, if that makes sense?
For example, Out of Focus is set in the world of contemporary theatre. I know quite a bit about how the technical side of that works and I knew what I didn’t know…I went off and found out about scissor lifts and health and safety regulations and it took me a couple of hours. In contrast I spent two days searching and reading up on how eighteenth century women dealt with menstruation for The Flowers of Time—not because it featured in the story particularly, but just because I felt as if it was something that would impact my characters even if I never mentioned it.
I think that’s partly why I’ve set seven books in the post-WW1 period now. I’ve done my research and I feel confident with the background colour of the era. Yes, okay, I have to toddle off and read up on what treatment you’d use for migraine, or whether medicals were required by then to join the army. But I’ve got all the building bricks in place, I know where to find the resources and I’m comfortable.
It’s a very nice feeling, being able to hunker down in a setting you’re reasonably knowledgeable in and just get on with the narrative. I think that’s why I’m enjoying writing my short contemporary stories so much—the only searching I did for Surfacing Again for example, was to use Google Earth to walk the old pilgrim route to Lindisfarne.
When I have the time and inclination I try to gather my research sources together for particular books and time-periods. You can find them under the menu Interesting History Stuff at the top of the page. It’s a bit of a work in progress and it’s not comprehensive, but it also serves to remind me what I looked at 😊.
So what am I going to leave next in my browser history? Honestly, I don’t know. This year I have crashed and burned a bit as far as longer projects are concerned, but I had planned to write the final book in the Bradfield trilogy, so if that happens I’ll be going back to the 1920s. And perhaps a companion book to The Flowers of Time, which is going to take a bit of a jump-start as I’ve forgotten quite a lot about the 1780s. I feel as if I want to get those done, interspersed with contemporary Celtic myths and the Theatre Fach world, before I begin a completely fresh project. However, it might be that I just stick with the contemporaries for now rather than forcing myself to concentrate on anything longer.
I stopped blogging over Christmas because I thought I’d have a break—things were a bit tough with the kids and my mental health wasn’t great. And then…my mental health still wasn’t great and there we were in January. And then I got a bit anxious about not having posted…so here we are in February!
I pushed back the release of the third Bradfield village novel to try to take some weight off; instead my March release (on the 26th) will be Out of Focus, a twenty-thousand word contemporary novella set in a theatre community in Wales. I think I might revisit some of the secondary characters at some point, I enjoyed writing it so much.
It began as a bit of a joke…Ofelia’s other pen name is Holly Day, and she writes stories to celebrate different days all through the year. (Her latest release is The Wingman, a 11,000 word short story to mark National Wingman Day on 13th February!)
She and Nell and I were laughing about there being a day for everything in our early-morning writing session one morning and eventually we decided it would be fun to write something together. We are all writing stories of between fifteen and twenty thousand words that will be released on 7th May. Each one features…you guessed it…naked gardening in some way. I’m about half way through and hope to be finished in the next week or so.
I may revisit Bradfield then; or I may write something else first. I needed a palate-cleanser I think. It all felt very heavy and difficult and once I made the decision to put it down for a while I felt quite a bit better.
This is a something-and-nothing blog post in a way, just to get back on the horse. Those of you who follow my newsletter or facebook group will know that Littlest has had a mild dose of covid this week. It’s been a bit stressful because she’s clinically extremely vulnerable and we panicked when she got the two lines last Friday. We spent last weekend trying to sort out antibodies for her—we had a letter saying she was eligible for the treatment when it became available a few months ago. However, it turns out that you need to be over forty kilos and she is only thirty four, so we needn’t have wasted our time and everyone else’s. She’s okay now though, a week on. Asymptomatic, just very, very tired.
The rest of us have been testing consistently negative, but both Mr AL and I have had what could be mild symptoms. It’s only the last couple of days that I’ve felt like a human again.
