#TheWeekThatWas

Right then…it’s been a while and this is a bit of a rambling personal post to get myself back in to the swing of things.

patio table and chair set on a garden
Photo by Deeana Arts on Pexels.com

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.

At the moment I’m working on a project for May with Ofelia Grand, Nell Iris, K. L. Noone and Amy Spector. We are all writing short stories/novellas for World Naked Gardening Day.

The Wingman, Holly Day

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.

So…to round off! I’ll be blogging regularly from now on (they said, very firmly). AND finally…JMS Books has a 40% Valentine’s Day Sale on ebooks, Friday through to Monday!

Valentine's Day Sale, 40% off all ebooks at JMS Books.

Holly Day: The Bear Claw

Hello, Ally’s readers *waves* Thank you, Ally, for letting me drop by. I don’t know if you know this, but both Ally and I get up at the crack of dawn to write. We meet up with Nell Iris, and sometimes J.M. Snyder joins us as well. We chat, and we write.

When I asked Nell if I could drop by her blog and talk about The Bear Claw, Ally asked why I wasn’t coming to her. It was with trembling hands and a pounding heart (not really 😂) I had to admit the truth – I’ve written a sweaty alpha story. The kind Ally hates LOL, and to ask to come to her blog felt wrong. (Ally interjects: HARSH! 🤣 )

Ally, being the lovely person she is, said I could come anyway, so here I am, polluting this site’s wholesome content with an obnoxious alpha werewolf (sorry) 🤣 (Ally interjects: HONESTLY OFELIA, IT’S FINE! FOR GOODNESS SAKE, JUST TELL US ABOUT THE STORY! 🤣 )

I wrote this story to celebrate Be an Angel Day – there are no angels in it, just a stupid alpha who thinks he’s acting like one even though he’s not.

The Bear Claw is an alternative universe story. Everything is the same as the world we’re used to, except people don’t have mobile phones, shifters and psychics and other creatures exists, and all supernatural beings are either dominant or submissive – it’s not a BDMS story. And we have mates. Every person has a small number of potential mates, but they can’t tell until they touch.

Shiro, one of the main characters, owns a bakery and has the ability to put emotions into baked goods. He has most people thinking he’s a dominant, but he’s not.

Pitch is on the hunt for a mate, but he won’t settle for anything but a true mate, and once he figures out Shiro isn’t who he first believed he was, he can’t get him out of his mind.

Shiro was a sub. Only a sub would ever allow his gaze to fall to the floor, and it had been on the floor-briefly, but there.

Excerpt from The Bear Claw

Fifteen minutes later, Pitch winced as the sharp August sun pierced his eyes. “Oh, bollocks.”

Lyra huffed. “Coffee, this way.” She yanked him along. “I can smell it.”

Pitch pulled in a breath, but he couldn’t scent anything, and since he had a better sense of smell than Lyra, she was lying. They rounded the corner, and the bakery came into view as did a sign with a crossed-over wolf. Pitched slowed. “What the feck?” He gestured at the sign; he hated those signs. He was a dominant, why be in areas where he wasn’t allowed to use his power?

“Come on. It’s right there.” She gestured at the bakery. “You won’t die from stepping outside of Shifterville for half an hour.” She handed him a pair of gloves which he accepted with a low growl.

He read the sign. The Bear Claw. Pitch refrained from rolling his eyes. “A bear establishment?”

Lyra grinned at his rough voice. “Bernard told me about it.”

Bernard? “Who?”

“The doorman.”

Right, Bernard. “So, it’ll be packed with bears?” He glanced in through the window and blew out a breath of relief. It wasn’t packed at all.

“I think his cousin or something owns it.” She pushed open the door and the scent of vanilla and coffee swirled around them.

“Ms. Murray.” Bernard grinned at them from behind a paper. He looked worse than Pitch felt.

“Oh, hi, Bernard.” Lyra walked over and sat by his table. Pitch reluctantly followed.

“Bad night, man?” Pitch didn’t mind Bernard too much. He was less dominant than Pitch, which made things easier.

Bernard shrugged. “Schedule got a bit messed up, so I haven’t been in bed yet.”

Pitch nodded. He didn’t care. He’d only asked to be polite which was more than he normally bothered with, but Lyra had developed a soft spot for the bear. Not a romantic one, two doms never had romantic relationships with each other. It didn’t work. Both expected—demanded—to be obeyed. Not always with true mates, then there was a stronger bond and more of a balance. The dominant was still dominant, and the submissive still submissive, but there was more give and take, a deeper trust, and Pitch wanted that. He’d seen true mates. They’d die for each other, they sacrificed for each other, and they worked more as a team than mates who weren’t true mates.

“Hello.” A dark-haired man appeared by their table. Pitch studied him. There was something… He wanted to say he recognized him, but… Had the man been a sub, he’d assumed he’d fucked him at some point, but this man held his head high, his stance relaxed.

He didn’t meet Pitch’s eyes, but many doms had a hard time holding his gaze. He wanted to send out a trickle of power to test the man out, but they were in a fecking human district. He didn’t believe anything would happen if he did, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk to the human police.

“Hi.” Lyra’s voice wormed itself into his mind. “We’d like some coffee, please.”

“Black.” Pitch regarded the man, waited for him to at least glance at him now when he’d spoken, but he didn’t. He had black hair, dark eyes, and his skin was white, but not the same kind of white as his was. Mixed race. Pitch didn’t care—he fucked every color and every shape, no discrimination—but he guessed one of the man’s parents were from Japan or Taiwan or something.

He pulled in a breath, tried to catch the man’s bear scent, but he couldn’t separate it from Bernard’s.

“You want something, Bernard?” The man’s voice wasn’t soft and it wasn’t weak, but it lacked… something.

“I’ve drunk enough coffee to give me heartburn. You don’t have energy drinks, do you?” Bernard gave the man a soft smile and it made Pitch want to snarl at him. Strange. He cracked his neck and drummed his thumb against his thigh.

“I’ll get you something.”

The man hurried off and Pitch watched his every move. “That’s your cousin?”

They looked nothing alike, but cousins didn’t have to.

“Oh no. Shiro is a fortune cookie—”

Pitch snorted. He hadn’t taken Bernard for a racist.

Bernard stilled. “Not like that. He’s my cousin’s mate.”

Pitch wanted to snarl. His cousin’s mate? The man couldn’t be mated. Shiro. Everything inside Pitch objected to Shiro having a mate.

The Bear Claw

Cover, The Bear Claw

In a world where all supernatural beings are either dominant or submissive, Shiro Amano doesn’t have many choices. As a submissive, any dominant walking into his bakery can order him around. He hates it. All he wants is to live his life in peace and bake pastries he can spike with emotions far away from obnoxious alphas.

Pitch Rhys wants a mate, but he won’t settle for anything but a true mate. As a powerful wolf shifter, he has subs flocking around him, but his true mate is hiding in the kitchen of a bakery and refuses to see him. He can order him to, of course, but since he threatened Pitch with a knife when he allowed his power to leak, he doesn’t think it’s the way to go. Instead, he’s settling to see how many pastries and cups of coffee he can consume in a day.

Two years ago, Shiro escaped an abusive relationship, and he’s not looking for a new one, but when word gets out Shiro is an unmated sub, dominants are invading the bakery. Pitch does his best to scare them off so he can woo Shiro at his own pace, but things escalate too fast. Will Pitch be able to get Shiro to trust him before it’s too late? Can he convince him he wants nothing more than to make him happy and keep him safe?

Buy links:

 Gay Paranormal Romance: 46,763 words

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

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.

Connect with Holly on social media:

Website :: Facebook :: Twitter :: Pinterest :: BookBub :: Goodreads :: Instagram

Ofelia Grand: Remember Us

Let’s welcome Ofelia Grand today! She’s talking about her re-release, Remember Us. It’s a story about older characters and memory loss and I love it, although Ofelia doesn’t like the first-person POV very much!

Hello, everyone! Thank you, Ally, for letting me drop by today. At the beginning of this month, one of my short stories, Remember Us, was re-released through JMS Books. I love that story.

I write under two names, Holly Day is my alter ego, and by now I’ve written a few stories. Most of them are short, so the backlist isn’t quite as impressive as it looks at a first glance, but by now I’m pretty secure in my writing style. I write third person, past tense, dual point of view unless it’s a really short story, then I might only do one character’s point of view.

What I don’t do is first person. I never buy a book where the blurb is written in first person. If I’ve bought a book, and you should know I never do my research – never read the entire blurb, never read excerpts etc. I might glance at a few reviews (and then I browse for the bad ones, so in my case, a two-star review often is what sells the book LOL). But if I’ve bought a book, and it turns out to be written in first person, I might read it if it doesn’t annoy me in the first pages. If the first thing I read under the chapter heading is a name, we’re done, though. First person, dual POV, not going there.

After having trashed first person, I feel I need to explain a little. They say you should write in first person because it brings the character closer to the reader, makes it easier for them to connect, to feel with the character. And I think I’m malfunctioning because for me it does the exact opposite. When a story is written in third person, I can forgive stupidness. I can chuckle at how foolish the character is. If it’s written in first person, and I read an ‘I threw myself at the snarling beast instead of staying safely hidden’ I just get annoyed because I *knocks on chest* never would. It’s even worse when we get to steamy or emotional parts. If it says I, the I damn better act like I would, and the Is never do LOL

Why do I ramble on about this, you wonder. Well… Remember Us is written in first person.

Yes, I’m as stunned as you are.

And I still like it. I don’t know why. I think it might be because it’s more of an emotional journey than a physical one. There are no snarling beasts, no awkward flirting or sweaty sex scenes where I lose connection with the character due to unfortunate reactions or actions LOL. It’s not even a romance story, it’s an established-couple-at-the-final-stretch-of-their-lives story.

Charles and William have been together for over forty years. All Charlie wants is to spend the rest of his time with William, but William’s memory is failing him, and Charlie is unable to look after him.

"It sucks, getting old, doesn't it?" William looked straight at me. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I never meant to become old."
I placed my hand on top of his, hating the way my voice threatened to break. "We fought it for as long as we could."
"We did, and now look at us"
Remember Us by Ofelia Grand.

Excerpt from Remember Us

The door to the nursing home opened, and I almost ran into one of the nurses.

“Oh, there you are, Charlie.” Relief flooded her eyes as the heron woke in my chest.

“What happened?” If she was coming to get me, something must’ve happened to William.

“Nothing, everything is fine now. I just got a little worried when I couldn’t find you.” She smiled and held the door open for me.

I nodded. Was I late? I glanced at the clock—about the same time as always. Of course, she wouldn’t find me if I hadn’t arrived yet. “Is William all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine, just fine.” She smiled and started to walk back to the front desk. I hurried through the foyer towards the corridor leading to William’s room, wanting to make sure nothing had happened to him.

Sucking in a breath, I knocked on his door. The nurse had given me a scare, and my heart didn’t want to slow down.

“Who are you?” William glared at me when I opened the door, and I slowly let the air out of my lungs.

“I’m Charles.”

His eyes narrowed as he got out of the armchair. “Charles?”

“Yes, Charles.” I searched his eyes for recognition, but it wasn’t there. I should stop hoping, but now and then, there was a flicker of awareness, a few minutes of presence. It was those moments I lived for—the short seconds when we were ‘we’ again.

“Charles, huh?” He studied me. The ticks of the old wall clock that used to hang in our kitchen were far slower than my heartbeats, and the heron trapped in my chest tried to turn.

William’s lips narrowed; fear grew stronger and stronger in his eyes. “Charlie?” The whisper broke my heart.

“Yes.”

“Babe, what happened to you?” He reached out but stopped short of touching me. “There has to be something we can do. Is it an illness? Or…” He rubbed his forehead. “Were you exposed to radiation or something?” Panic took hold of him as the heron crushed my insides.

“No, no radiation or illness. I grew old.”

“But how? You were fine this morning.”

This morning? How I wished I could tell which morning he was in—I’d have given everything I had to be there with him. “What did we do this morning?”

“You don’t remember?” His eyes widened, and I feared I’d only made the situation worse by asking.

“We had coffee.”

“Of course, we had coffee! What else do you remember?”

Yes, of course, we had coffee. What else could we have done? I searched his face for a clue. He wasn’t giving much away. “We ate breakfast.”

“I did! You didn’t. You were too busy trying to get that freaking cat down from the tree. That’s it, isn’t it? It had some disease, and now you’re ill.”

Cat? I winced. There was only one cat I’d ever rescued from a tree, and it had been a long, long time ago—before we were married, before we had Ann, before we lived together. “No, it wasn’t the cat.”

I glanced at the clock. I needed him to start thinking about something else. “Want to go grab some coffee?”

“We just had coffee! I’m taking you to the hospital. Now.” He started towards the door, throwing a confused look around the room as he went. “I need to pee, real quick, and then we’ll go.”

I sank down on his bed as he slipped into the bathroom. My hands were shaking. I didn’t want him to get angry, but there was no way we could go anywhere. We could go to the cafeteria and David—no, Daniel was his name—had said we could sit on the balcony if we wanted. I hoped Daniel was here today. The few times William got angry enough to get violent I always feared for the young women trying to soothe him.

I startled as the door banged against the wall. William hurried out of the bathroom. “There’s an alien in the mirror.”

“What?” Oh, no…

“In the mirror. I always knew there was something strange with this place.”

“I don’t think there is an alien in the mirror.” I could see William getting ready to argue and took a deep breath. “It was probably only the light or something.”

“You’re in on it.” He poked a finger in my chest. “I knew it! You’re not my Charlie. Of course, you aren’t. My Charlie isn’t old, and he would never lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yoda is living in the bathroom mirror, and you’re saying there aren’t aliens here.”

Yoda? I looked at William. He didn’t look anything like Yoda…or maybe a little, but didn’t we all these days? “How about that coffee?”

William curled his hands into fists. “You aren’t listening to me. We need to get out of here. They have us under surveillance. Yoda is living in my bathroom!”

My bathroom. The heron picked at my intestines. He had never named anything in this room his. It was silly how a little word could hurt more than him thinking I was a stranger.

“Okay, let’s get out of here.” I hoped he’d forget about the aliens before we got anywhere near the door.

“We need to be sneaky about it. I’ve tried to leave before, but they never let me.”

“Yes, sneaky.” I bit my cheek. “Maybe we should go to the cafeteria and have a cup of coffee.” William started to object, but I cut him off. “Then on the way back, we’ll slip out.” Fingers crossed he wouldn’t remember when we got there.

“Smart. My Charlie would have suggested the same thing.”

Buy Remember Us: JMS Books :: Amazon :: Everywhere else!

Remember Us

Remember Us, Ofelia Grand

Charlie Wilkins had everything he wanted—a husband, a daughter, a house that was his home. He still has his husband, but William has forgotten who he is. He still has his daughter, but the roles have switched, and Ann is now the one taking care of them.

There is only one thing Charlie wants, and that is to spend the rest of his days with William by his side. But William is living in a nursing home, and Charlie is living … somewhere. Ann says she will fix it; she’ll make sure they’ll get to live together again. Charlie hopes she will before William either escapes or figures out Charlie has left him in someone else’s care.

He promised William they’d stay together till death did them part, and he meant it, but what was he to do when he no longer could take care of William?

Buy Remember Us: JMS Books :: Amazon :: Everywhere else!

About Ofelia

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

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

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

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Ofelia Grand: Swedish coffee, cake and small town romances

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A place without a coffee place has no soul.

Small Town Romances by Ofelia Grand. Pet Delivery, Aiden and Tristan, Once in May.

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

Scroll on down for excerpts!

Excerpt from Pet Delivery:

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

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

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

Gabriel breathed in deep and neared the counter.

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

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

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

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

Contemporary M/M Romance: 30,911 words

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Everywhere else!

Excerpt from Aiden and Tristan:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coffee?”

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

Contemporary M/M Romance: 46,142 words

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Everywhere else!

Excerpt from Once in May:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, little man. What are you doing?”

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

“Oh, you’re good at puzzles?”

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

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

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

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

“We were.”

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

“Nah, just a coffee.”

Jen poured him a cup and handed it over.

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

“Kid?” She laughed.

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

Contemporary M/M Romance: 47,776 words

JMS Books

About Ofelia:

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

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

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

Find Ofelia on social media:

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

Ofelia Grand: The Egg Hunt

Happy Easter, everyone, and thank you Ally for letting me drop by. I’m in the middle of re-publishing a number of old stories. And two days ago, The Egg Hunt was released.

The Egg Hunt is an Easter story that takes place in Nortown. The thing with Nortown is that almost everyone there is a lumberjack. When I first started writing these stories, it was to make fun of all the clichés. Don’t get me wrong, I care for my characters and their hardships, but I played a lot on stereotypes.

The Egg Hunt was first released in 2016, and the M/M genre has developed since. There weren’t a lot of vampire daddies or Mpreg stories back then – they existed, but not to the extent they do now. And this was before the Amazon top lists were overflowing with the ‘I shagged my step daddy’ stories. And, to each their own, but I want to say thank heavens because I could never write those kinds of books. So instead, I wrote grumpy, toppy lumberjacks with ‘oh, so responsive’ bottoms.

Now, The Egg Hunt isn’t as stereotypical as the other stories taking place in Nortown, but it has the attributes. Tom is a closeted lumberjack, and Jason is a bartender from ‘the city’.

Jason is in Nortown to visit a friend, but their dogs fight, so he gets to stay with Tom instead. At first, Tom isn’t pleased, but soon he realises it’s quite nice to not have to spend the holiday on his own.

Do you have any special Easter traditions? When I was a kid, Mum always boiled a crazy number of eggs on the morning of Easter Eve – in Sweden you celebrate all holidays on the eve. On Christmas, we open the gifts on Christmas eve. Anyway, Mum made eggs, and the entire family gathered and painted them. Then we ate them.

I remember being a little sad when I had to destroy an egg I was especially pleased with.

Mum had also hidden carton eggs filled with candy all over the house. And she had, and still has, lots of small porcelain eggs she filled with sweets of different kinds. The entire Easter weekend, we were on a constant sugar high LOL.

In Nortown, the inhabitants of the town get together for an egg hunt in the forest.

Available now, The Egg Hunt. "What should I expect at this egg hunt? Tom gave him a quick glance. "You know how egg hunts work, right? We're here to help Jen prepare, hide eggs for people to find, and then in a couple of hours, everyone will show up. Kids, pets, adults--most of Nortown's population will stroll into the woods and search for eggs." Tom laughed.

Excerpt:

Jason hurried past Tom between the trees. Even though he’d helped hide the eggs, it was hard to find any now. He stopped by a fallen, moss-covered trunk, where he was almost certain he’d hidden three small chocolate eggs, but he couldn’t spot a single one. Someone might have made it there before him, he guessed, but he didn’t think so. Everyone had started at the same time.

He heard Tom snigger behind him.

“Did you take them?” Jason gave him a mock glare, which quickly morphed into a smile. It was almost as if he were being pulled towards him.

“I might have hidden them elsewhere, but then again, so might Jen.”

“You moved my eggs?”

“Of course! I couldn’t let you win.” Tom reached for him but stopped himself and stepped back. Jason fought a sigh. He wanted Tom to touch him. It was stupid, but he wanted to be close to Tom, wanted to smell him, to laugh with him.

“Oh, lookie here.” Tom stretched up between two branches and took down a real egg that had been coloured purple. “Now if you find one, we can have that egg tapping.”

Jason huffed and continued farther into the woods. He would find an egg, and he would win the egg-tapping thing. An unguarded feeling of freedom shot through him as he searched both on the ground and up in the trees for colourful eggs. He didn’t really care if he won—the insight should’ve been shocking; Jason always wanted to win. He still wanted to find an egg and play the stupid game with Tom, but only to see his warm eyes sparkle.

“A-ha! Got one!” He picked up a red egg and ran towards Tom. As he dashed between the tree trunks to where he’d last seen him, he almost ran into a little girl who was trying to reach a large plastic egg filled with sweets that hung too high in the tree for her. “Here you go, darling.” He took it down for her and hurried along. Where the fuck had Tom gone? He’d been right behind him mere minutes ago.

He could hear voices and laughter everywhere, but not Tom’s.

The Egg Hunt

Ofelia Grand, The Egg Hunt

Jason has one rule when it comes to holidays — work his shift behind the bar and then find a willing body to distract himself with. One night is long enough to satisfy his needs and still walk away with his heart intact. It has worked out fine for most of his adult life, but this Easter, he’s trying something new. He’s leaving the city to visit his friend Aiden, who recently moved in with his boyfriend in the middle of nowhere, but one unfortunate incident leaves Jason without a place to sleep.

Tom doesn’t just not do relationships, he rarely does hook-ups, either, and never too close to home. Living on his own without attachments is easier than having the whole town knowing about him. As the holiday approaches, his lonely house grows even quieter than normal — at least until his friend Tristan dumps an arrogant bartender in his lap.

As soon as Jason lays eyes on the gruff lumberjack whose home he’ll be sharing, he knows who’ll warm his bed for the weekend and help chase away any pending holiday gloom. Too bad Tom doesn’t want to get with the program. As much as he wants to let Jason close, he won’t risk outing himself for a weekend fling. Will Jason trust Tom not to break his heart if he stays longer than a couple of days? Will Tom value their relationship higher than the town gossip?

Contemporary M/M Romance: 34.031 words

Buy The egg hunt:

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

About Ofelia

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

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

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

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