nell iris – A. L. Lester

Love, Isidor by Nell Iris

Hi! *waving happily* Thanks for inviting me to your blog, Ally, it’s always a pleasure to be here.

After we finished our Naked Gardening Day project, we wanted to work together again because it was so much fun, and after some back-and-forth about what theme to pick, we settled on World Letter Writing Day because who doesn’t like letters, right? 😍

I do, so I voted enthusiastically for a letter theme when we decided, and I was certain I’d write a proper epistolary story because I absolutely adore them. Instead, one of my friends unknowingly gave me another idea. She’s French and she told me a story about her grandparents, and how they were separated because her grandfather was sent to a forced labor camp during WW2. They wrote letters to each other when he was away, and many years later, the family found the grandfather’s letters in a box. My friend told me that she cried when she read them, and that she could feel the pain of the separation in them.

Saved letters, in a box, or tied with a pretty ribbon, is far from a new or unusual thing, but my friend’s grandfather’s letters stuck with me, and a box of letters snuck into my story.

Love, Isidor

Dear Henri, there was a man at the restaurant this evening who looked so much like you that I winked at him and laughed.

One letter from his ex, Isidor, is all it takes to turn Henri’s world upside down. It’s been a decade since they broke up, a decade since they couldn’t make their long-distance relationship work despite their best efforts.

Do you ever think back on the decisions we made and wonder if we could’ve tried harder?

Isidor was the one that got away, the one who’s impossible to forget, and Henri still questions the decisions they made back then. Could they have fought harder for what they had?

My darling Henri. I still dream of you after all this time.

Is ten years apart too long, or will old feelings reignite when Henri and Isidor meet again?

M/M Contemporary / 15111 words

Buy links: JMS Books:: Amazon :: Books2Read

About Nell

Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, short over long, and quirky characters over alpha males. She published her first book in 2017.

Nell is an author with a day job that steals too much time from her writing, her reading, her gardening, and her crocheting. She’s an introverted tea drinker who loves her family, her books, and her home in the Swedish countryside.

Find Nell on social media: Newsletter :: Webpage/blog :: Twitter :: Facebook Page :: Facebook Profile :: Goodreads :: Bookbub :: Bluesky

Excerpt:

“Did you expect me to reply to your letter?”

“I hoped, but…” He shrugs. “I didn’t think you’d write me an actual letter. I would have thought an email, or maybe a phone call asking ‘What the hell, Isidor?’ but your letter…it surprised me.”

“Good or bad surprise?”

“Good. I figured you’d just throw away my letter and go on with your life if you didn’t want to speak to me again. And you wouldn’t suggest our spot if you weren’t at least a little interested.”

He’s right, of course. Can he know me still, after all these years? Haven’t I changed at all? “Back to my first question that you ignored. Tell me something about yourself that I need to know.”

He doesn’t reply for several minutes, but I’m in no hurry; it’ll take several hours for us to reach Uppsala, which means I have a lot of time to take him in, to memorize all the new things that weren’t there when I saw him last.

Like the lines radiating from the corners of his eyes; they’re thin and fine, as though he doesn’t smile a lot, and his mouth, serious and somber, confirms my theory. The hint of stubble on his face and neck says he shaved before bed yesterday instead of this morning. I used to love it when he’d rub his stubbly face all over my body making me squirm and pant and hard.

But he’d also tease my ticklish spots, making me squirm for completely different reasons. His eyes would shine with mirth, and he’d laugh at me when I tried to wriggle away from him, begging for mercy.

He was always a serious person, but he’d let go when we were in bed. He allowed himself to be romantic and sentimental, but also silly and nonsensical. Has he allowed himself to behave like that since we broke up? Did he find another guy he could tease with his stubble and tickle to death with his thick fingers?

Jealousy flares up in my chest at the thought.

“I wrote you letters,” he says, yanking me out of my study of him. “Before this one, I mean, I wrote you many letters. But I never sent them. I couldn’t. They’re still in a box in my closet.”

“Wha…” My chin threatens to wobble, and I look away for a moment, forcing breath into my lungs so I can finish what I was going to say. “What made you send this one?”

“It was that guy in the restaurant I wrote to you about. My heart did this weird…” he gestures for his chest as though he’s trying to show me, “this weird…jump…when I thought it was you. After all these years, I wanted to rush over to you, him, whatever, and fucking beg you for a second chance if I had to. I didn’t expect such an…intense reaction. I thought I’d gotten over you.” He clenches his teeth. “Or hoped, is the more truthful word, I guess. And I hadn’t written a letter to you in years, so I thought I’d broken the habit. I hadn’t planned on sending this one either, but…somehow…I found myself putting it in the mailbox. As though I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Do you regret sending it?”

He glowers at me, not deigning to a verbal reply.

“Would you let me read the unsent letters?” My voice is so thick, I can hardly interpret my own words.

“Yes. Of course. They’re yours.”

Buy links: JMS Books:: Amazon :: Books2Read

It’s release day for the World Letter Writing Day Novellas!

It’s that time again! I’m very pleased to announce that the Naked Gardening Day Team are back. We had such fun working together last year that we decided to choose another day to write about this year and landed on World Letter Writing Day on 1^st September.

Today I’ve got an excerpt for you below, and over the next few days I’ll be featuring posts from Holly Day, K. L. Noone and Nell Iris and I’ll also be visiting their blogs to talk about my own story, Reading it Wrong. This year we are very sorry to be missing Amy Spector, but we’re hoping her story will be released in time for the paperback anthology next year.

The four World Letter Writing Day novella covers

Without further ado…Reading it Wrong

A date turned down. A stolen letter. A reminder that nerds don’t just play board games. Reading it Wrong is a gentle MM romance set in the small town world of Theatr Fach.

Reading it Wrong. A date turned down. A stolen letter. A reminder that nerds don't just play board games. Reading it wrong is a gentle gay romance sent in the small town world of Theatr Fach.

Paul Cranford regrets asking Louise and Darcy Middleton to let the kids from his class have a look at the fifteenth century letter they’re selling at auction. If it hadn’t been for him, it would never have been in the theatre overnight to even get stolen in the first place.

Darcy isn’t keen on Paul Cranford. He’s never quite got over the way Paul knocked him back when Darcy tried to ask him out. But when the letter is stolen from the theatre and Darcy is hurt in the process, Paul steps up to help him and he starts to understand where he’s coming from.

Getting back the letter means they get to know each other better. Will that date Paul turned down happen after all?

A date turned down. A stolen letter. A reminder that nerds don’t just play board games. Reading it Wrong is a gentle MM romance set in the small town world of Theatr Fach.

Buy Links: Amazon US : Amazon UK : JMS Books : Everywhere Else : Goodreads

Reading it Wrong: Chapter 1: Darcy

“How can a town support not one, but two antiquarian book sellers? It’s bloody ridiculous!” Darcy fumed at his sister as she peered through her glasses at the laptop screen.
He was so irritated he was pacing to-and-fro in front of the counter, waving his arms.
Louise started to answer, “Well, Hay does…” and then glanced up and over his shoulder, frowning at him in passing. “Hello there, can I help you?” she asked the person he’d failed to notice coming up behind him.
Darcy swung round as he stepped out of the way.
Oh. No. That was just what he needed.
Paul Cranford nodded to him politely but didn’t meet his eyes, instead smiling at Louise as he stepped up to the desk. “Er. Yes,” he said. “I’ve, er—” He glanced quickly and dismissively over at Darcy again, who’d folded his arms and was glaring at him. “Hi Louise, how are you?”
“I’m good thanks, Paul. How are you? How’s David? Is he still at the boatyard?”
Paul smiled at her. “Yes! They’re doing really well; they’ve got some big contracts in at the moment. I’m sure he’d send his best to you.”
“It’s been ages since I’ve seen him,” Louise said. “A couple of years, at least. He’s not a reader.” She grinned at him.
“He’s more outdoorsy than me,” Paul told her. “Always has been. I was a failure as a little brother.” He smiled as he said it, clearly joking.
“I remember from school,” Louise said. “He did all sorts of sport. I remember him badgering you to join in and you being happier in the library. What are you looking for today? Can I help you with anything? That new release you’re waiting for hasn’t come in yet,” she said regretfully.
He shook his head. “No, that’s not why I’ve come by,” he said. “It’s something different. I’m here for a favour actually.”
Darcy didn’t bother to stifle his huff of irritation. “A favour,” he said, flatly, at the same time as Louise said, “Anything I can do to help! What sort of favour?”
Paul glanced over at Darcy for a second time as he interjected and then looked back at Louise, ignoring him. That wound Darcy up even more, but Louise gave him a quelling look and said, “Be quiet please, baby brother!” and then turned back to Paul. “What sort of favour?”
Darcy growled under his breath. She never let him forget he’d been an afterthought to their parents and was fifteen years younger than her.
“Right, er. Well. You know I teach at St Baruc Primary. I… er. I heard about the letter that you’re selling.”
Louise nodded. “The letter… we’re selling it at auction, in the middle of the week,” she said. “At the theatre. On Thursday.”
“Yes,” he said.” “I. Er. I wonder if it would be possible for the children to see it before it’s sold?” he said.
“Why?” said Darcy, sharply. It wasn’t any of his business really, but Paul put his back up simply by existing these days and this was his sister and the letter he’d found. Nothing to do with Mr Paul I’m too good to date you Cranford.
Paul looked over at him again, polite enough to notice him this time. “Oh, hello, Darcy,” he said. He pushed his glasses up his nose and blushed. “Well,” he said. “It’s local history. It’s important.”
Darcy opened his mouth and then closed it again. He couldn’t argue with that.
“I mean…it’s not local, local. But from what I’ve read about it, it’s a very normal sort of letter, about family and Christmas and things like that. I think the kids would be able to identify with it. We’re doing a letter-writing project, you see.”
Louise was making a thinking noise. “Hmm. Yes. I can see that. It’s not here though. It’s at the bank.” She pulled a face. “I wonder… I can probably get it out the day before the auction for them to see. Would that work?”
Darcy made another muffled noise of dissent. It was a fifteenth century letter, for God’s sake. Letting a sticky-fingered bunch of pre-teens have at it the day before it went up for sale for thousands of quid seemed really unwise.
But Louise was nodding and Paul was nodding and giving Louise his mobile number and everything seemed copacetic between them. Nothing to do with Darcy. Nothing at all. He turned round and busied himself shelving the Victorian fairy-tale collection Louise had bought last week.
“Bye, Darcy,” Paul said, finally taking his leave. “See you on Wednesday.”
“Yeah, see you,” Darcy said, mentally snarking Not if I can help it.
They were both members of the Llanbaruc Boardgames Club that met in the theatre café on a Wednesday evening. Darcy ran the café, so he’d negotiated with his boss to let them meet there and have access to the bar.
He didn’t know exactly when he’d taken against Paul. Oh. Yeah, he did. It was the evening Darcy had suggested they go out for a drink together one night and Paul had looked at him as if he was something that had come in on the bottom of his shoe and said “Er. No. No, I don’t think so, thanks. I don’t, er… I’m not… erm. No. Thanks,” and reversed away from him so quickly he’d knocked into the game of Risk going on behind him and caused South America to inadvertently invade Australasia via Finland.

Buy Links: Amazon US : Amazon UK : JMS Books : Everywhere Else : Goodreads

#ReadAroundtheRainbow: Writing advice I take with a grain of salt

Read Around the Rainbow

As you’re probably aware, #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.

This month, we’re all blogging about writing advice we take with a grain of salt… and…I’m not sure about this one! Do I say I rigidly follow all the rules? And have people think I’m a formulaic work-to-rule sort of writer? Or do I say I pick and choose what received advice I follow, and have people think I’m arrogant and self-important and not a proper writer?

It’s a dilemma! Probably the first advice I should actually listen to is to ignore imposter syndrome 😊.

In all honesty though, there’s so much completely conflicting advice out there for people who write, whether they’re published or not:

Write every day. It doesn’t matter if you write every day. Attend a writing group. Write alone. Self-edit. Always have an editor. Have lots of social media. Don’t bother with social media. Write different genres under different pen-names. Put everything under one pen name. Hone your skills in fanfiction. Take a course. Self-publish. Look for a publisher. Get an agent. Don’t bother with an agent.

And Oxford commas…well. That’s how decades long feuds begin.

I think the only thing you can say for certain is that what suits one person won’t suit another and the less you get hung up on all the dos and don’ts, the happier and more confident you’ll be.

I’m definitely not confident enough to self-edit for example. But I know several people who do, very competently. The writing every day thing…well. My life is very, very fragmented right now and that’s impossible for me. But it doesn’t make me any less of a writer. Everything is still ticking away inside my head and when I do sit down with my laptop I often find it springs more fully formed onto the page than it does if I’ve been writing every day. Not always! But sometimes.

So, I’d have to say that the only thing I’d take with a grain of salt is to follow all the advice you’re given. Pick what works for you and have the confidence to say ‘I tried that and it was rubbish for me, it didn’t work’.

It’s not a competition, there are no rules that dictate conformity or success. If you’re happy as you’re actually writing and happy with what you’re creating, then…that’s working. You’re a successful writer.

Here’s everyone else who wrote this month. Click through to read what they have to say!

Nell Iris : Ofelia Grand : Lillian Francis : Fiona Glass : Amy Spector : Ellie Thomas : Holly Day : K. L. Noone : Addison Albright

New Release: The Naked Gardening Day Box Set!

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.

You can read a bit more about each story here or buy it here!.

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.

I love these stories and it was a such a fun project to do. We are currently discussing what to do next year!

World Naked Gardening Day: Strike a Pose by Nell Iris

Hi everyone, Nell here. I’m back and I’m here for the World Naked Gardening Day shenanigans, but before I get into that, I want to thank Ally for yet again having me as a guest. Thank you😘 (Editor: You are always welcome, you know that!)

I’m here to talk about Strike a Pose, the story I wrote in celebration of World Naked Gardening Day. I stumbled upon it somehow last year and told my friend Holly Day she should write a story about it since she writes stories for all the weird and wonderful holidays out there. Then Ally chimed in and said we should all write stories featuring naked gardeners, and I promptly said yes. We enlisted a couple more people, the awesome K.L. Noone and Amy Spector, and started writing. So on May 7^th, five stories with a Naked Gardening theme were released. The stories are all standalone and not related in any other way than the theme.

My story is less about the gardening and more about the nakedness, though. It wasn’t my plan when I started writing the story, but as a writer, I’m a pantser. If you don’t know what that means, it’s a term for flying by the seat of my pants, as in I don’t plot or plan my stories. I come up with a vague concept, and then I start writing, letting the writing take me where it wants to go.

And for this story, it took me to statues. Ancient, famous statues. Naked statues, hence the nakedness. My main character Didrik is a photographer, who’s shooting pictures of his best friend’s father Johan for a charity calendar. The theme for the calendar is World Naked Gardening Day, but no matter how hard Didrik tries to come up with something arty and classy featuring watering cans and other gardening tools, he can’t make it work. But then he watches a documentary of Michelangelo, and he has a lightbulb moment. Statues. Johan will pose as statues!

Personally, I love statues. One of my favorite art experiences was when I visited Paris and my husband and I went to the museum of Auguste Rodin, the famous French sculptor. Imagine a French garden with beautiful roses and trimmed bushes and water features and birds twittering in French. Imagine this wonderful space overflowing with wonderful statues, priceless pieces of art. That image in your mind, that’s the Auguste Rodin Museum, and that’s what served as inspiration for this story.

And one of the statues that inspired Didrik for his photoshoot, is Rodin’s The Thinker, but exactly how that went, you’ll have to find out by reading the book.

Strike a Pose

Didrik would do anything for his best friend, Filip, including taking pictures of Filip’s dad, Johan, for a charity calendar. Naked pictures, of beautiful, irresistible, wonderful Johan, who was single-handedly responsible for Didrik’s gay awakening. He was also happily married and unavailable…until he wasn’t.

After losing his husband five years ago, Johan finally seems ready to move on, and as they start the charity project, everything changes. With every meeting, every conversation, every pose for the camera, the attraction between them swells and grows, until it burns hot and threatens to consume them.

Their interactions, their relationship is surprisingly easy, but it’s not without its challenges. The age difference for one thing. Telling Filip for another. Is their connection enough to last? Can they overcome the hurdles to get the happily ever after they deserve?

M/M Contemporary / 17545 words

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:

Newsletter :: Webpage/blog :: Twitter :: Instagram :: Facebook Page :: Facebook Profile :: Goodreads :: Bookbub

Read an Excerpt!

After hanging up, I make a cup of tea and wander to my desk, pulling out a sketch pad and pencils, drawing a quick sketch of the layout of the garden, both from memory and from the pictures I took with my phone.
It’s a beautiful space. Johan told me he spent the first couple years after CM’s death obsessively taking care of it as an outlet for his grief, not changing a thing. But then he gradually started to imbue himself into the garden, adjusting a little here and a little there until it was something completely different. CM was a fan of strict, neighbor-pleasing lines, while Johan transformed it into something wild and free. Bohemian. An explosion of colors and very few straight lines.
Johan’s whole being shone with pride when he showed me around, and I teased him about going from “the garden is not my responsibility” to loving it, to throwing himself wholeheartedly into it. And I realized Filip’s idea isn’t only about honoring CM’s memory; it’s an opportunity for Johan to show off his pride and joy, too.
That thought spurs me on, and I turn to a blank page, letting my mind wander and my hand roam free. I make simple sketches of certain areas of the garden and try to imagine Johan in the spots. I draw him using different gardening tools, kneeling by a flower bed, digging a hole, but nothing feels right. I tear the page out, crumple it up, and throw it on the floor.
Then I start again.
Sketch after sketch ends up on the floor. No matter what I do, I can’t get it right and after a couple hours, I tilt my head back. “Aaaaargh,” I growl at the ceiling, grab the sketchbook, and hurl it on the floor where it crushes one of my discarded drawings with an unsatisfying dull thud.
I need to clear my brain, so I do what I always do when I’m stuck; plop my ass onto the couch and turn on the TV. I zap from one channel to the next in the hopes of finding something I can focus on, something that’ll take my mind off naked gardening, and uncooperative watering cans. In the end, I settle on a documentary about Michelangelo. It sucks me right in, fixing my attention on the screen, and soon I’m enchanted by the man’s genius and his sculptures, with the beautiful lines, the marble, the nakedness.
Nakedness. Marble.
Sculptures! Of course.
I leap off the couch, sprint back to my office, and pick up the sketchbook and pencils before returning to the couch, where I keep an eye on the screen and the other on the paper.
Sculptures would take Johan from beautiful to breathtaking. If I could recreate the feeling of the marble, the perfection, the perceived hardness. It would be a wonderful contrast to the untamed and wild garden.
I even know the perfect place for the David statue. I grab my phone and scroll through the pictures I took until I find what I’m looking for; a little island of a flowerbed, a spot that looks like Johan took a part of a wild meadow and replanted it on his lawn. The wildflowers surround a low rock where Johan can stand and be Michelangelo’s most famous work.
After finishing the preliminary sketch, I flip open my laptop and search for images of more famous statues, and find masterpieces like Auguste Rodin’s The Thinker, or that ancient Greek discus thrower. The more images I find, the more inspired I get.
I sketch and sketch until my cramping hand screams at me to stop, and my empty stomach threatens to gnaw its way out of my body. High on creative energy, I throw on my shoes and a hoodie, grab my phone and my keys, and leave the apartment, ignoring the elevator, taking the steps two at a time until I’m on the ground level. I jog along the street to the closest fast-food joint.
While I wait for my food to be prepared, I send a text to Johan.
I have the best idea. Can we meet tomorrow and discuss it?

The World Naked Gardening Day novellas

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.

All the World Naked Gardening Day stories