interview – A. L. Lester

Ellie Thomas visits with her new box set, Gentlemen in Love!

Thank you so much, lovely Ally, for having me as a guest on your blog today. (You are most welcome, Ellie, I’m sorry I’m late posting!) I’m Ellie, and I write MM Historical Romance novellas. My first box set of previously published Regency stories is now on release, so I’ll be chatting about the six stories comprising Gentlemen in Love.

There are various settings in my collection of Regency romances. One Summer Night is set in Regency London. The story involves the politics of the ton and the weight of power in Whitehall, as civil servant Martin falls for aristocratic Will, after a heated chance encounter.

Then there’s the popular scene of the Regency country house party. Two of my stories, A Christmas Cotillion and A Midwinter Night’s Magic share that backdrop in contrasting ways. In A Christmas Cotillion, my MC Jonathan gradually comes to terms with past heartbreak as he considers the opportunity of a new relationship with farmer’s son, Nick.

A Midwinter Night’s Magic centres on forced proximity, where long-parted lovers, Matthew and Crispin, are stuck together at a country house party over Christmas due to snowfall, despite mutual hostility. To add insult to injury, they’re expected to engage in a recital of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It takes a bit of Shakespearian magic from Puck for these two to reconcile, which was a lot of fun to write with my copy of the play to hand!

There are more countryside settings in A Marriage for Three, which takes place in the Wiltshire country town of Marlborough and rural Worcestershire. Charlotte, an independent-minded young woman, is pressed to consider a practical offer of marriage from a close family friend Anthony, despite his long-term romantic involvement with his steward, Simon. I enjoyed exploring the ties of family and mores of country life in this story, together with three likeable characters.

Fashionable resorts are always a popular setting for Regency stories. As I grew up close to some of these in the West of England, it’s hardly surprising that I would pick familiar destinations. Shore Leave has a slightly earlier setting in the latter years of the 18th century, which coincides with Bath’s heyday. It was a delight to navigate the elegant streets and Assembly Rooms of Bath, where Jacob and Sebastian meet and gradually fall in love.

Again, I chose Regency Cheltenham for The Thrill of the Chase, Adrian and Guy’s story. It’s set in 1813, slightly before the building boom and the elegant terraces so familiar to us today. At that stage, apart from a few speculative developments and several spas, Cheltenham mainly consisted of the High Street, which makes it even more difficult for shy Adrian to avoid embarrassing confrontations with Guy, the forceful object of his unfulfilled desires.

Gentlemen in Love

In Regency England, whether about their daily business in London, attending a country house party or visiting a fashionable spa town, an array of gentlemen meet their match and attain a happy ever after.

Some couples find new love, while others rekindle a long-lost spark in this collection of six light-hearted MM Regency romances from Ellie Thomas, containing the following stories:

A Christmas Cotillion: Thirty-year-old Jonathan Cavendish has long given up any thought of romance. He grudgingly accompanies younger cousin Freddy to a Christmas country house party, as Freddy is infatuated with the lovely Belinda.

To his surprise, Jonathan catches the eye of Nick, a local farmer’s son. The initial attraction seems to be mutual, but can Nick break through Jonathan’s defences and teach him to love again?

A Marriage for Three: When Anthony Wallace proposes to Charlotte Grenville, she is shocked. Lottie has always seen him as an older brother, and she is also aware of his romantic devotion to his Anglo-Indian estate manager, Simon Walker. Should she accept this financial arrangement merely to support her ailing family? And will her growing attraction to Simon be a threat to all their happiness?

A Midwinter Night’s Magic: Matthew Lewis is trapped at a Christmas country house party by snowy weather and forced to take part in a reading of a Midsummer Night’s Dream. To make things worse, his lost love Crispin Marley, to whom he has sworn undying hatred, is among the guests. Can some fairy magic from Puck help the estranged couple to make amends for once and all?

The Thrill of the Chase: In 1813, when modest Adrian Lethbridge visits fashionable Cheltenham to help launch his young cousins into society, to his surprise, he catches the roving eye of Captain Guy Ransome. The ex-army officer is everything Adrian yearns to be; devilishly handsome, experienced and confident. So Adrian is in disbelief that the attraction is mutual. But can he summon the courage to act on his desires?

One Summer Night: After a passionate encounter with a stranger in an alleyway one summer night in 1801, Whitehall clerk Martin Dunne is shocked when he encounters the object of his desire at a society function, complete with a powerful father and a pretty bride-to-be. Is his seducer not to be trusted? And have Martin’s dreams of future encounters and possible romance crumbled to nothing?

Shore Leave: Jacob Longley, Naval Lieutenant, is all at sea in the fashionable Bath Spa. As he attempts to steer his younger sister Letty through the social whirl with a close eye on her reputation, his striking looks can’t help but catch the attention of the exquisite Sebastian Fforde. Will either man break through the other’s reserve? And could their mutual attraction blossom into love?

Buy Gentlemen in Love

Excerpt from A Christmas Cotillion

Mr Hammond’s chance came when Jonathan was on the dance floor, already partnered for the next dance. Belinda, for once, was unaccompanied but still standing up, as though eager to join in. Mr Hammond was near her, but unfortunately looking in the other direction.

Jonathan glanced over in helpless frustration, not wanting to abandon his young dance partner in the middle of the floor just as the music was about to start. As he again looked from one to the other, he caught the eye of the handsome farmer’s son. He was serving refreshments amongst those who had taken part in the last set of dances. He followed his direction of Jonathan’s scrutiny clearly with a sharply raised eyebrow.

As if receiving intelligence, he nodded at Jonathan decisively, put down his tray on a side table and eased the few yards through the gaggle of couples approaching the dance floor and tapped Mr Hammond on the shoulder.

Luckily, just then the music started and Jonathan saw his expressive face indicating a social dilemma. He nodded towards Belinda and then pointed to the momentarily abandoned tray as if explaining why he could not partner the young lady for himself. When all had been made clear to Mr Hammond, he received a grateful smile from the young man, as though Mr Hammond was doing the favour. He then turned back to collect the tray and offered the contents to the thirsty crowd.

It was neatly done, with Mr Hammond now obliged by his very good manners to ask the young lady to dance. Mr Hammond braced himself and made his way to Belinda, face flushed with embarrassment as though expecting a rebuff. Instead, he received her hand and a warm smile. Jonathan didn’t realize he was holding his breath until the couple reached the floor, unimpeded.

After a hectic country dance, Jonathan and his puffing partner retired from the fray. He was satisfied to see Mr Hammond and Belinda remain on the floor for the next set of dances, now conversing with apparent ease. As he looked at this with a feeling of pleasure, a glass of sparkling wine was placed in his hand with a murmured, “That was a good notion.”

He looked around in surprise to see the farmer’s son right next to him. Close up, his eyes were very blue indeed and his wide mouth was curved in that increasing familiar smile. Jonathan felt as tongue-tied as Mr Hammond had been previously in Belinda’s presence as he stiffly thanked the young man for his assistance. He seemed unfazed by Jonathan’s constraint.

“Just call me Cupid, or rather Nicholas, or even Nick, if you prefer,” he said with another dazzling grin, before turning gracefully to serve refreshments to the guests behind Jonathan.

Buy Gentlemen in Love

About Ellie

Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance.

Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.

Website : Facebook : Twitter : Goodreads : Bookbub

Interview: Ashton K. Rose talks about the Southern Magicks trilogy!

Today we welcome Ashton K. Rose to the blog to talk about their new release, the first in the Southern Magicks trilogy and tell us a bit about themselves. Welcome, Ashton! (Ashton is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour. You can join the Rafflecopter draw here!)

1. Why are you doing this interview? (A new book? A new website? A re-release? Just for fun?)

At the end of August, I released my debut novel, The Southern Magicks, which is the first book in an LGBTQIA+ Urban/Paranormal Fantasy and Mystery series I’m writing.

2. What started you writing?

I dabbled with creating stories my entire life, but I didn’t start writing fiction regularly until I was thirteen because I became a serious poet at eight. (Editorial comment: EXCELLENT!)

3. Where do you write? (Office, bed, garden, mountain, coffee shop, in a pool, at the dining table?)

It’s not that interesting. I have a small corner in my room with a desk and my computer.

4. What do you like to read?

Mainly any type of speculative fiction or mysteries about amateur/private detectives. My favorite genres are Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, and Gaslamp Fantasy. I was drawn to reading indie and self-published novels because there hasn’t been a lot of traditionally published queer speculative fiction for adults until recently. I really enjoy reading books by Gail Carriger, K.J. Charles, Jordan L. Hawk, Derek Landy, Drew Hayes, K.D. Edwards, Benedict Jacka, Ben Aaronovitch, Agatha Christie, Allie Therin, Joanna Chambers, Alexis Hall, and David R. Slayton.

5. What are the three books you’d take to a desert island? Why would you choose them?

Soulless (Parasol Protectorate, #1) by Gail Carriger is the book that made me realize adult fiction could be fun, and it’s one of my favorite books.

The Utterly Uninteresting and Unadventurous Tales of Fred, the Vampire Accountant. I’ve read this book several times since I discovered the series in 2017, and it’s always an enjoyable book to come back to.

I have a complete hardcover edition of Sherlock Holmes stories, so I’d bring that as well.

6. Writing is an intrinsically solo occupation. Do you belong to any groups or associations, either online or in the ‘real’ world? How does that work for you?

A few years ago, I used to be part of a fantastic in-person writers’ group in my small town. A group of older ladies who taught me more about writing than I learned from the handful of classes I took during university. The group ran on a weekday afternoon and didn’t really attract a large amount of new people, so numbers slowly dwindled because of life events. I took over running the group for a couple of months to keep it alive, but I had to start a new job. Since then, I’ve only really been in online writers’ groups. I’ve found a great space within the queer indie writing community on Twitter with other writers who are working on their first few books. Because of the platform changes on Twitter, I’ve ventured out into other groups, joining a popular Facebook group managed by the hosts of a writing podcast I listen to.

I enjoy writers’ groups because I love interacting and learning with/from other writers, but I’m not sure about large groups like the nearest one in my city because I’m worried it will lack the conversation and personal interaction that originally attracted me to attending a writers’ group.

7. What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I’ve always enjoyed reading and playing RPG and simulation games like the Sims series, Dragon Age, and Fallout. This year I started learning watercolor painting and drawing so I had a hobby that got me away from my computer. I pretty much only read ebooks, and I felt a lot of eyestrain and fatigue spending most of my free time looking at a screen.

8. Tell me a little bit about your most recent release. What gave you the idea for it? How long did it take to write? What did you enjoy about writing it? What did you hate?

The Southern Magicks is an LGBTQIA+ Urban/Paranormal Mystery series for adults set in Australia starting in 2018. Apart from the supernatural aspects, it’s set in a world pretty much identical to ours, only the pandemic doesn’t happen. I found it depressing and difficult to write that event into the series, so I stopped trying and found I could write this story again.

My main character Dexter is a trans man whose grandmother secretly taught him how to see and control ghosts. After he is saved from an attack by a demon/monster, Dexter is forced to work for the coven of mages who control local magic users through their wealth and positions of power. Dexter’s abilities are part of a branch of magic known as Death Magic, which is very useful for an exorcist in an old town.

I’ve been writing stories set in the Southern Magicks Universe since late 2017 when Dexter walked into my head almost fully formed. Between 2018 and early 2021, I slowly uploaded a condensed version of the first three books as a web novel.

When I had the money to publish, I separated the main three storylines to extend each of them to novel length. My new release, The Southern Magicks (Book One of The Southern Magicks Series), is the first of these. I’m currently editing books two and three, which I hope to release during 2023 if my budget allows. I’ve planned for the series to be around twelve books, and I’ve written drafts for almost half of the series.

The Southern Magicks #1

How do you prove your innocence when you don’t even remember whether you did it or not?

After a demon attack reveals Dexter’s secret – that his Gran taught him magic – the twenty-three-year-old librarian is forced to work for the local magical law enforcement agency in order to prove his loyalty, and hopefully save his grandmother from execution.

However, when someone tries to frame him for crimes he doesn’t remember committing, Dexter realizes he’ll have to start an investigation of his own. Joined by his beloved husband Eli, their best friend June, and his journalist cousin Kat, he desperately tries to prove his innocence…which is kind of difficult when gaps in his memory make him doubt everything he thinks he knows about himself.

The race against time begins. Can Dexter and his team uncover the criminals weaving the web of guilt around him before it’s too late, or is he going to lose everything and everyone he cares about?

Buy Southern Magicks #1 : Add to Goodreads

Warnings: Assault, violent imagery, panic attack on page, police brutality

Scroll down for an excerpt!

Author Bio:

Ashton K. Rose (They/Them) is a Queer author who writes Australian paranormal, urban fantasy and mystery fiction filled with LGBTQIA+ characters.

Ashton currently lives in sunny Queensland able to enjoy the best of the Australian bush and beach. Ashton spent their first fourteen years being raised on a remote farm shaped around the remains of an old mining town. Surrounded by the skeletons of past lives and their matching ghost stories, Ashton developed a love for fantasy, horror, and dark fairy tales from a young age.

Carrying a love of ghost stories into adulthood Ashton started writing novels about magic, vampires and ghosts. Ashton decided to set The Southern Magicks in a world heavily inspired by the backdrop of the Australia bush/beach and the speculative fiction Ashton has consumed over a lifetime.

Author Website : Facebook : Twitter : Instagram : Goodreads : Amazon

Excerpt

Chapter 1, Scene 1:

I knew Nora Rowe had died in her home without anyone telling me.
I unlocked the door and my stomach dropped as I took in the sight of the small dim living room of her kit home, filled with books and old newspapers. The acrid smell of cigarettes and wood fire smoke filled my nose as I weaved my way through the stacks. Mismatched flatpack bookshelves that warped under the strain of thousands of books lined the walls. Her living room held no other furniture apart from an old TV and a worn leather armchair—the carpet covered by stained, threadbare rugs.
I flicked the first light switch I saw twice.
Why had I expected the power to work?
I walked over to the windows and pushed the dust-caked lace curtains aside.
My eyes watered as the sun poured into the room.
In the kitchen, the doors of the cupboards hung open. The only things left behind were a few cheap plastic items scattered across the scratched lino.
I stepped on a plastic cup on the floor. I wobbled on my feet for a few sick seconds before I grabbed the counter to steady myself. The sharp aluminium edge bit into the skin of my hand.
This place was a death trap!
She had over twenty library books I had to separate from the donations. My legs shook as I walked to the shelves closest to the door.
I ignored the erratic beating of my heart and the part of my brain telling me to run and pulled out my keys to flick the small key chain light on. I placed it between my teeth and examined the spines for library tags.
When the light hit the grimy glass of a small photo frame on the shelf, I saw something move behind me. I kept my eyes fixed on the glass and used my thumb to clear a spot of dust.
If it hadn’t moved, I could have ignored the human-shaped shadow reflected in the glass.
As a kid, I’d been hassled about seeing things and having an overactive imagination. When I was seven, Gran told me the truth. I shared her secret ability to see ghosts.
I turned to look at the woman who sat in the armchair.
This Nora was a couple of years older than the one who celebrated her birthday in the photo. Her gaze focused on the TV, which would have been new the year Queen Elizabeth was coronated.
I kept my gaze locked on her, blinking one eye at a time.
I slowed my breath and took a careful step backwards to the door. The back of my calf hit something that drove several points of pain into my skin.
The stack of books I knocked over sliced through my composure just as easily as it did the silence in the room, the hard covers and spines slapping against each other as they hit the floor.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” Nora stood and turned to face me.
I knew I’d given the game away when I jumped out of my skin and almost dropped my keys.
I made a noise like a dying rat.
She knew I could hear her.
The first thing Gran had taught me was not to let a ghost realise you could sense them. It was dangerous—a trigger for the ire of a vengeful spirit.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Your son gave us the key.”
“Worthless piece of shit. Letting strangers into my house. He stole my grandma’s dinner set for drug money before my body was cold. I saw him put it in his car before he called someone to deal with the mess.”
“I’ll just be going now.”
“Actually, I’ll be going.”
I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
I tried to breathe, but my lungs refused to move.
I couldn’t breathe!
The edge of my vision went black as I gasped for air. I fell flat on my front. I was so focused on trying to breathe, I almost missed the presence pushing at the back of my mind. It started small, a hint of a suggestion. The temptation to give in grew. This was her body. I was nothing but a figment of her imagination. Dexter wasn’t real. Nothing more than a thought exercise to see what it’d be like to be a man her grandson’s age. With each second, it pressed harder, and the urge to give in grew.
Forget.
It would be easy to give in and never have another worry again. All the pain and pressure of life could vanish if I relaxed and let her take control.
No!
I shivered as I tried to move my arms to push myself onto my hands and knees. I focused on the door. It was only a short crawl. I had to do it. For a second, my vision went entirely black.
No!
I gathered all the strength I had and screamed. The remaining air expelled from my lungs. I took a sharp breath. I moved my stiff arms and pushed myself onto my hands and knees.
I was Dexter; I was real, and this was my body. Nothing would take that away from me.
I closed my eyes and pushed back the ghost. I wrapped a mental net around the invasive presence in my mind and forced it back through the hole where it had entered. A hole it had dug in a part of my mind I didn’t even know existed.
One arm forwards, one leg forwards, and breathe.
Move. Breathe. Move. Breathe.
I made it to the threshold and pulled the door open. I slid headfirst down the concrete stairs to lie on my back.
The pressure in my mind slowly vanished as I fell.
I opened my eyes.
Pale blue sky, almost cloudless.
My eyes watered from the bright light.
The perfect day was oblivious to my plight. The mid-autumn day was hardly different from late summer. I could’ve laid there for hours, but the hot concrete felt like it was melting the skin off my back where my shirt had ridden up. I rolled onto the dead grass beside the cracked front path.
Sweat ran into my eyes as I sat up. I squeezed my eyes shut to clear my vision.
I could still feel the cold air wafting from the open door. I had to shut it. Mrs Gregory was looking for any excuse to fire me. I stood and walked to the threshold.
All I had to do was grab the handle, pull it closed, remove my hand from the handle and step back.
One quick movement.
I could do it.
As I stared, my eyes adjusted to the dim. She stood just inside, her hard eyes focused on me.
She smiled.
I stepped forwards and grabbed the door handle. Her hand shot out towards my arm.
Her pale, icy fingers clamped around my left wrist. I tightened the grip of my right hand around the door handle. I tucked my chin to my chest and threw myself backwards down the stairs, using the weight of my body to swing the door closed. My shirt ripped as I fell backwards; the sleeve stayed in her hand as my arm slipped free.
The air expelled from my lungs as I hit the ground.
I lay on my back and my lungs refused to work. Fixed to the spot in terror, I gasped for air as my body refused to perform. A function that was usually thoughtless had become my only thought, the pinpoint the world had narrowed to.
There was a dizzy relief as I breathed again, and after a few minutes I slowly stood.
Blood ran down my exposed arm, the only part of my body that had hit the thin concrete path.
Ghosts could touch me! Physically hurt me!
I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, forcing back the panic attack that bubbled in the back of my mind. I knew about the possession, but the touch? Why hadn’t Gran told me? I needed to call Gran, but I knew she couldn’t help me. She hadn’t talked to me about magic since her accident when I was seventeen.
I suspected the accident was magic-related, but she’d kept silent about it.
She’d looked at me sceptically any time I’d mentioned magic afterwards, as though I spoke of childish whimsy and needed to grow up.
So I had.
I’d left Dunn and become a librarian, a nice stable job for a responsible young man who liked books.
A normal young man who had resigned himself to a life of pretending he couldn’t see the dead.
I’d somehow ended up with nowhere else to turn and ended up back in this town.
Now Gran was in America with Aunt Myrtle, so it was hard to get help.
I drove back to the library to pretend I’d been out for my lunch break.

Buy Southern Magicks #1 : Add to Goodreads

Interview with Holly Day / Ofelia Grand

Today Holly Day is visiting to tell us all about her recent release. Holly is the second pen name of my friend Ofelia Grand. This post should have gone up on the 19th December; but because my head was full of cold I clean forgot. Please give her a warm welcome today instead!

Hi Hollyfelia! Thanks so much for coming to the blog today! Can you tell us a little bit about the split personality you’ve got going on and how that came about?

Thank you for having me! 🥰

It started about two and a half years ago. This was in the middle of the covid lockdowns, and while I’m in Sweden, where we never had a real lockdown, we were still encouraged to work from home if we could, not see people unless we had to, and keep our distance. At the time, I was working on a mushroom farm, and we mainly delivered to restaurants, and since people were supposed to stay at home and not eat in restaurants, we more or less stopped production. The result was that I didn’t have a job. Nell Iris didn’t have a job, and the lovely A.L. Lester 😘 didn’t have a job, so we met up in the mornings and wrote together.

One sunny summer day, I was writing a Christmas story, and I was in a flow. When you’re in a flow, you don’t want to step away from the story, but I’d promised my girls that we were gonna go to the playground, so I grudgingly did my duty as a mother 😆 and went to the playground.

While there I kept thinking about how I could write holiday stories all year round and not grow bored. My mind started spinning, and by the time the girls were ready to go home, I had this idea of a pen name who wrote stories for different holidays. I would call her Holly Day since she was meant for holidays LOL

The whole one-story-a-month idea came later. I finished the Christmas story I was writing as Ofelia and wrote a Valentine story as Holly. Then I wrote a story for Kiss a Ginger Day, which is in January. And then I saw Extraterrestrial Abductions Day which is in March. I wrote all three stories in 2020 and realised I had one story a month in the first quarter of 2021 before we’d reached 2021, and that’s what set off the whole one-story-a-month thing. We’ll see if I can keep it up, I’m a little behind at the moment 😊 but so far we’ve had 24 stories in 24 months.

Let’s have some seasonal questions. How do you and your family usually celebrate the midwinter season? Do you decorate the house?

Normally, we’re celebrating with my mother at her house, but she passed away a month ago (#FuckCancer), so this year, we’re a little lost. And hubby will be away working from the 23rd to the 26th, so this year, it’ll only be me and the kids.

We decorate. We have a tree, a real tree, stars in our windows and lots of candles and such. I think it’s pretty similar to the rest of the western world.

What we do that most outside of Scandinavia don’t is celebrate Saint Lucy’s Day on December 13th. It’s a bit weird, not the celebration as such – I love celebrating Lucia – but that we do it. Sweden is one of the most secular countries in the world, only about 9% go to church, so it’s a bit strange that we’re celebrating an Italian saint.

Lucia is beautiful, and the children dress up in the schools, and parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles get to come to see them sing.

Like this:

What’s your favourite food at this time of year?

Ah… I’m a problematic person. Swedish Christmas food is very meat-based. We have ham, meatballs, jellied meats, sausages, and on, and on the list goes, and I’m a vegetarian. I’m also lactose intolerant and gluten intolerant, so there go most other foods. People love to have me over, promise 😆

But traditionally, we also have a lot of kale and Brussels sprouts and such, so that’s mostly what I eat. And I make some vegetarian stuff like mustard grilled Quorn that mimics the traditional Christmas food as well as some things that aren’t normally included in the holiday foods.

Most importantly this time of year isn’t the food – though many people would disagree with me on that – but the glögg. It’s a Scandinavian type of mulled wine, and I can be without most of the traditional holiday food, but not that 😊

Have you asked for anything in particular as a present this year? If you could, what would you want wrapped under the tree for you on Christmas morning?

Eh… no. I’m not really big on things. All I need is my phone, my laptop, and an internet connection, and I already have that.

I would like a huge greenhouse, but I have no good place for it in the garden. If I’m just gonna dream though, I’ll say a greenhouse. I have a small one and it’s not in a good place, so the plants I have in the garden usually grow better than the ones in the greenhouse 🙄

And chickens. I want more chickens. Chickens aren’t as much fun this time of year though when it’s cold and snowy, and the water keeps freezing, and so on, but you can never go wrong with chickens LOL

Tell us about your current release?

It’s a gay paranormal romance novella called Willow Road and it celebrates Crossword Puzzle Day on the 21st December. I wrote it for JMS Books Advent Calendar.

It’s an interspecies fated mates story. Jeremiah hasn’t left his house in over a decade. He went to a shifter school where he was bullied for being the only human, and a group of shifters locked him up in the school basement. Life never went back to normal after that.

Zeeb is the chief of police. When he learns that someone is putting ads in the paper encouraging people to ring Jeremiah’s door right next to the crossword puzzle they know he’s solving every day, he’s furious, and goes to talk to Jeremiah. That’s when he realises Jeremiah is his mate. The problem is that as a human Jeremiah has no idea he has a mate, and he wants nothing to do with shifters, and Zeeb can’t have a human mate since the other shifters wouldn’t respect him if he did. So… best not to let Jeremiah know he’s Zeeb’s mate, right? Well, it was the initial plan, but as we established above, initial plans sometimes change.

Willow Road

Jeremiah Pace hasn’t left his house in thirteen years. He doesn’t trust anyone, least of all shifters. School was a nightmare, and despite never interacting with anyone in the village, the bullying continues in his adult life. Someone is putting ads in the paper, encouraging people to drop by his house for one service or other, but Jeremiah never opens his door.

Zeeb Hemming is a lone wolf and the new chief of police. He’s only been in Stoneshade for six weeks when he learns about the ads and goes to knock on Jeremiah’s door. Not because of what today’s ad said, but to get to the bottom of what’s going on. Human or not, Jeremiah deserves to live life in peace. The moment Zeeb nears Jeremiah’s house, he knows he’s his mate. But he can’t have a human mate.

Jeremiah pleads with Zeeb not to stir anything up. Yes, the ads are bad, but things can always get worse. Zeeb is furious someone is mistreating his mate and is willing to skin anyone who has any connection to the ads alive. But how is he to convince Jeremiah to trust him when he talks to Zeeb through a gap in the window instead of opening the door to his house?

Buy links

Gay Paranormal Romance: 19,909 words

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

Excerpt:

The next day, Dolph and Boris were both missing when Zeeb walked through the door into the police station. Rica was sipping on a cup of coffee while leafing through a stack of papers.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” She gave him a quick smile before focusing on the stack of paper again.

“Where’s Dolph and Boris?”

She put down the paper she’d been reading and studied him. “They had to go out.”

“Had to go out?” Had to? It was seldom anyone had to in Stoneshade.

She tilted her head. “They were laughing about something in the paper, and then two minutes ago they had to go talk to someone.”

Zeeb gritted his teeth. “They were laughing.”

She pursed her lips. “They’re always laughing at things in the paper, aren’t they?”

Scanning the table, he spotted a folded paper underneath another stack of paper—almost as if they didn’t want him to see it. He grabbed it and quickly turned the pages.

“Jesus, what did the paper ever do to you?”

“It’s the ads. If there’s another ad, heads will roll.”

Rica gave him a confused look. “The ads?”

“They’re harassing that poor soul on Willow Road.”

The confusion deepened. “Which soul? Who is living on Willow Road?”

“Jeremiah Pace.”

She shook her head. “Never heard of.”

Zeeb sighed. Would the entire village play oblivious? “The human who went to school with Dolph.”

Her eyes widened. “They put a human in a school for shifters?”

Zeeb growled at her. “Thirteen years ago, there was some sort of attack on him, and he hasn’t left his house since. Don’t tell me you don’t know this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t live here thirteen years ago.”

Freezing in mid-turn of a page, he looked at her. “You didn’t live here?”

She shook her head. “I’m not from here. I met Samuel while backpacking in Italy. I got to Venice on a train, one of those spur-of-the-moment decisions, and I knew the minute I set foot on the platform my mate was there. You know the spark?”

Zeeb shook his head. He hadn’t met his mate, so he didn’t know, but he’d heard enough stories to guess, and the dreamy look on her face made him smile.

“Anyway, his grandfather had a farm a few miles from here, and when he passed away, Samuel wanted to take over. It’ll be six years in April.”

Nodding, Zeeb turned another leaf of the paper. He’d been told Samuel had his cows in the pasture beyond the row houses during the summer months. “So, you don’t know anything about the ads?”

“This is the first I’ve ever heard of any ads.”

“And you never read the personal ads in the paper?”

She shook her head. “Can’t say I do.”

“You didn’t see the ad yesterday about full-service massages?”

Rica burst out laughing. “Full service? Don’t tell me we have a bordello in Stoneshade.” Then she sobered. “Shit, we don’t, do we? I worked a trafficking case while living in Phine. I couldn’t sleep for weeks.”

“No, not that I know of. It’s some idiot putting ads in the paper saying people can come to Willow Road 1 for full-service massages, but an agoraphobic guy named Jeremiah Pace lives on Willow Road 1.”

Rica’s eyes bled into the icy blue of her wolf, and Zeeb took a deep breath. Finally, someone who reacted the way they should. He found the page with the crossword and scanned the ads. “For fuck’s sake.”

“What?” Rica came to stand next to him, and he pointed at an ad. Committed sub looking for Dom. Loves role play. Please, be my carpenter and ring my doorbell. Willow Road 1. I’m waiting for you.

“Oh, God.”

“Was it what Dolph and Boris were laughing about?”

She breathed in deep and pursed her lips. “I don’t know. I didn’t look. They’re always laughing at something, and I needed to check some facts for the…” She gestured at the pile of papers next to her cup, and Zeeb nodded.

“Where is the newspaper office?”

“In town, I think.”

In Alderdon? It was a thirty-minute drive one way. “I’m going to talk to them. I’ll swing by Jeremiah’s first to make sure he’s okay, then I’ll go into town. I have my cell.”

About Holly

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.

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Secrets on a Train – Nell Iris

Hi everyone, hi Ally and thanks for inviting me over. You’re always so kind and generous. ❤️ (Ally: BLUSHES)

Today, I’m here to talk about my newest release, Secrets on a Train.

A few months ago, JM Snyder of JMS Books was writing with Ofelia Gränd, Ally, and me in the morning office, and she told us about an idea she had for upcoming submission calls. One of them, “Sugar or spice,” caught my attention. The idea was to write a short story (between 6000 and 12000 long) and incorporate either sugar or spice as a theme.

That submission call idea burrowed itself into my brain and refused to let go, and even though there was another project that should have gotten my attention, I pushed that particular story back and threw myself into sugar or spice.

And I’m sure it’ll come as a surprise to no one familiar with my writing, that I gravitated towards sugar since my stories don’t tend to be hot and sizzling, but sweet and emotional. My sugar story, Secrets on a Train, is no different. In fact, I’ve repeatedly told Ally and Ofelia that I’ll probably be roasted for Secrets on a Train because there’s not even an on-page kiss.

Gasp.

I know, I know! That’s a bit extreme, even for me. I usually get at least one review with every book I release lamenting the lack of heat, and now my characters don’t even kiss? What were you thinking, Nell?

But let me assure you there’s plenty of flirting and heated glances and pin-striped crotches in this story. Okay, only one pin-striped crotch, but what I’m trying to say is that the lack of a kiss doesn’t mean a lack of chemistry because the sweetness of this story is of the literal kind. Sugar. It’s two strangers in the silent car on a train connecting when one of them pours not one, not two, but three packets of sugar in his to-go coffee. And who can resist the allure of so much sweetness? Not Runar, that’s for sure.

Secrets on a Train

It’s the fountain pens that capture Valentin’s attention on the morning commute, not the perfectly imperfect man who spends his train rides using them. Not his pinstriped suits, his chin-length hair, or his perpetually raised eyebrow. But one morning when the man strikes up a written conversation, Valentin gives up all pretense. It’s not just the pens. It’s the man. Runar.

The conversations continue, and the men get to know each other better, sharing secrets they’ve never told another soul. The connection is powerful, growing stronger with every encounter, every scribbled conversation, every scorching look. But can secrets shared on a train be enough to build a forever?

M/M Contemporary / 9889 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 on social media:

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Excerpt from Secrets on a Train

He taps the espresso cup with a quirked eyebrow, and I shake my head. No, I didn’t put sugar in his coffee. He tears off the lid and tosses back the coffee, as though it was a shot of whiskey, making me shudder.
“Bleurgh!” My exclaimation makes the old lady—who’s also traveling on this train every morning and has appointed herself the security guard of the silent car—shoots me a poisonous glare, and I mouth I’m sorry to her.
Laughter dances in Runar’s features and I make an exaggerated wince, my silent way of saying either “ouch” or “oops” or a combination of both.
Runar has written something in his notebook.
Thanks for the coffee. It was great. But why?
I point at the window and fake a shudder, and he nods as though he not only understood what I was trying to say but agreed, too. He underlines the word thanks and I smile and give him a thumbs-up without taking my eyes off what he’s written.
That purple ink. I can’t get over it. So far, he’s only used black or blue ink, serious colors to go with a serious-looking man, making his handwriting almost ominous. But the purple ink softens the sharp edges of his writing—turning the angry-looking slashes into swoops and swirls—and of the man himself.
I grab my phone off the table and tap out a question. What’s up with the purple ink?
He draws a big question mark on the paper, but his quirked eyebrow already asked the question.
It seems so…bubbly. You don’t give me a bubbly impression, so it surprised me.
Bubbly?
I nod.
Ink can be bubbly? The corners of his mouth twitch, as though he’s holding back a smile.
Today’s pen is as sleek as a samurai sword. Your usual black slashes would be more in style.
His eyes crinkle. You’re keeping track of my pens?
I nod. You haven’t used the same one twice since I started sitting across from you.
My admission—revealing that I’ve watched him every day for weeks—could’ve, should’ve, made him wary of me. Scared him even. But nothing in his demeanor suggests that’s the case. Instead, he relaxes back into his seat, crossing his legs over the knees, brushing out invisible wrinkles of his already immaculate suit, smirking as he catches my gaze following his every movement. He wiggles his foot, smirk widening as he gets the desired effect of my complete attention.
I tear my gaze away to ask him another question. How many fountain pens do you own?
He slides his calf down his shin, slowly. When his foot hits the floor, he lets his knees fall open and his hands land on his thighs. He might as well have drawn a huge arrow pointing at his junk and written LOOK THIS WAY! with his irresistible purple ink.
So I oblige him. I look at his long legs, his powerful thighs that not even the fabric of his pants can hide. And I look at his bulge, embraced and emboldened by pinstripes. Tantalizing, promising hidden wonders, making me want to fall on my knees and bury my face in the V of his legs and inhale him. Ingest him.
I run a trembling hand through my hair and let my eyes wander up his body and meet his gaze.
He leans forward to pick up the pen, his eyes never leaving me. More than fifty, he writes without looking, his words veering off the lines. I have to read it three times before understanding.
Oh right. Fountain pens.

Buy links: JMS Books:: Amazon :: Books2Read

Interview: Kellie Doherty

Today we well welcome Kellie Doherty, Alaska-based author of Curling Vines & Crimson Trades. Welcome to the blog, Kellie! What made you decide to rock up today?

Kellie Doherty, with wonderful orange and red hair!

Thank you for having me for this interview! Today, I’m celebrating my new release, adult fantasy Curling Vines & Crimson Trades. The novel centers on a rare goods trader named Orenda. Her wife gets kidnapped and Orenda has to do these nearly impossible tasks and trades just to get her wife back. Then the unthinkable happens, her best friend Jax tries to kill her. She has a task list too and her final one is to kill Orenda. In a race against the coming dawns and battling at every turn, Orenda has to try to save them all before the sun rises on her wife’s final day. Curling Vines came out on November 30, 2020, from Desert Palm Press, and I’ve been shouting about the new release pretty hard since then. However, I really love interviews, so I’m also here for fun!

What started you writing?

Fanfiction! I loved watching Digimon and Pokemon when I was younger and I wanted to be in their worlds longer, to have more adventures with the characters I loved so much. I turned to writing fanfiction to fulfil that need, and it really sparked my writing career. Fanfiction holds such a dear place in my heart that I still write it to this day! It’s fluffy and fun. Something I can dip into when I need a break from my original stories for a little while. After I felt comfortable in the already created worlds of others and crafting original characters to play in those worlds, I branched into original fiction and created worlds all my own. That was a thrilling transition. Do you know how equally time-consuming and awesome worldbuilding can be? It’s intense! I also started writing stories because I didn’t see many queer female characters in science fiction and fantasy so I wanted to add my own positive representation of my LGBTQIA community into the genres I adored. That’s why all of my main characters are queer ladies!

What’s your writing space like?

I write at home curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and my cats purring beside me. Sometimes they push my computer out of the way so they can sit on my lap and snooze while I awkwardly hold my computer against my knees to write. I let them, of course, because I’m a pushover when my cats are involved. Technically I can write almost anywhere—airports, coffee shops, libraries—but I’m most comfortable at home. I also scribble notes on characters, plotpoints, and worldbuilding during breaks at work and in the middle of the night. (Though in the middle of the night my handwriting is nearly unintelligible.)

What do you like to read in your non-writing time?

Science fiction and fantasy! I am a huge geek for dragons and magic, spaceships and tech. The escape it gives me is honestly priceless. I like high adventure stories with big (and small) stakes, but I also enjoy character-driven stories as well. It just depends on my mood at the time.

What are the three books you’d take to a desert island? Why would you choose them?

Mm, my first pick would be Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon since it’s such an epic story with so many varied characters and points of view. It’s also a thick book, which means it would take me a while to read if I got stranded there. Second I’d bring Becky Chambers’ novella To Be Taught, if Fortunate because her prose is beautiful and her characters try to see the good in each situation they’re put in, even when—and especially when—it gets tough. I feel like that kind of story would be super helpful in a desert situation. And finally, I’d probably bring a tropical island food book of some sort so I’d know what’s edible! Knowing me I’d probably snack on a poisonous plant…

Writing is an intrinsically solo occupation. Do you belong to any groups or associations, either online or in the ‘real’ world? How does that work for you?

I belong to a local writing organization called the Alaska Writers Guild, and I really appreciate the smaller events they host throughout the year as well as the larger annual writing conference. As you know COVID-19 made the in-person events grind to a halt, but the Alaska Writers Guild swung to virtual pretty smoothly. I also have a weekly writing group that meets over Skype! It’s lovely to have a two-hour chunk of time where we can critique our work together, and I honestly believe we’ve all become better writers because of it.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

Oh boy, I lead a rather busy life outside of my writing career. I have my own freelance editing business—Edit. Revise. Perfect.—that keeps my editing eye sharp! I have a lot of different clients and some ongoing contract work too, with both fiction and nonfiction work. I feel really fortunate to have one foot in the business side of publishing like that, even while I have a full time job in a different field. I have two fabulous black cats—Raven and Cinder—who like to dash around at midnight, pounce on hair ties, and curl up on me while I’m writing. As for exercising, I do get at least 7,000 steps per day and I do Zumba every now and then, but I miss swimming. I used to do water aerobics, pre-COVID, and it was just so much fun! Hopefully once the virus settle down a bit, I’ll be able to get back into the water again. Hmmm, what else. Well, I probably watch too much YouTube—Critical Role is an obsession of mine—and I play video games like Minecraft and Zelda. I’ve also been playing the same Dungeons & Dragons campaign with a group of friends for nearly four years, which is pretty fabulous.

Tell me a little bit about your most recent release. What gave you the idea for it? How long did it take to write? What did you enjoy about writing it? What did you hate?

Like I said earlier, I’m celebrating the release of my new adult fantasy novel, Curling Vines & Crimson Trades! I got the idea for this five-book fantasy series when I was a teenager, but I didn’t feel comfortable writing it until a few years ago. The idea—having four main characters each with their own standalone books with their own stories and challenges, triumphs and failures, only to bring them all together in the final fifth book—seemed too big for me. And it was back then. It might still be too much for me now, honestly, but I wanted to challenge myself and I knew that if I didn’t start it soon, it would haunt me for the rest of my writing career. And I also wanted to pivot into writing fantasy since I’m such a huge nerd for it. Anyway, for Curling Vines, the story is focused on Orenda Silverstone and for her story, I really wanted to do a deep dive into what a person would do to save their loved one and discover how someone who believes they’re broken moves past that feeling. Curling Vines took me about six months to write but then I submitted it to my writing group to critique so the second draft took a little bit longer to hash out. For the enjoyment factor, I loved writing the interactions between the characters, especially Orenda and Lyra. They clash so often! It was fun for me. For the hate factor…hmmm, that one’s a bit harder to pin down. I don’t really hate anything about writing. One thing I can get lost in is the research aspect. For example, for this story, one of the characters Jax fights with a staff and since I had never written about staff fighting before I had to research. And I say, “had to” loosely there; I actually liked researching staff fights! The problem? I remember one night I literally spent my whole writing time—like three hours—researching…I didn’t write a single word. Research is important, don’t get me wrong, but I need a timer or something so I don’t deep dive like that again and forget to actually write the story!

Curling Vine & Crimson Trades

Book cover: Curing Vines and Crimson Trades by Kellie Doherty

Rare goods trader, Orenda Silverstone leads a happy life with her wife and friends. She’s an Elu—a race whose crafting is centered on protection—but her power is broken. Now, her sword is her strength. When her wife gets kidnapped and Orenda has to use her trading skills to complete some nearly impossible tasks to get her back, a good sword arm won’t be enough. Orenda’s time is rapidly coming to a close. She needs help. But she’s been forced into silence. Two sun goddess worshippers, twins Lan and Lyra, decide to join Orenda’s quest in order to guard one of the rarer items to its destination. Orenda’s not sure she can turn her back on either one, but with no other options, she competes against the sunrises to complete her tasks before her wife is killed. Then, the unthinkable happens. Orenda’s best friend, Jax, tries to kill her. Between racing against the coming dawns and battles at every turn, Orenda’s list now seems insurmountable. No longer certain of who is friend or foe, she must come up with a plan to save them all before the sun rises on her wife’s final day.

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Meet Kellie!

Kellie Doherty is a queer science fiction and fantasy author who lives in Eagle River, Alaska. When she noticed that there wasn’t much positive queer representation in the science fiction and fantasy realms, she decided to create her own! Kellie’s work has been published in Image OutWrite 2019, Astral Waters Review, Life (as it) Happens, and Impact, among others. She’s currently working on a five-book adult fantasy series. The first book Sunkissed Feathers & Severed Ties (Desert Palm Press, March 2019) won a 2019 Rainbow Award. The second book Curling Vines & Crimson Trades launched on November 30, 2020, and an excerpt from Curling Vines won first place in an Alaska Writers Guild Fiction contest in 2020.

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