New Release Spotlight: An Unlikely Alliance by Ellie Thomas

Today, I welcome Ellie Thomas back to the blog; she’s here to talk about her latest release An Unlikely Alliance, a story that’s a part of the JMS Books Trio collection Regency Lovers. I love trio collections and I love Ellie Thomas, so I don’t know about you, but I’m popping right over to the JMS store and buying that Trio collection. Please, do not disturb, I’m busy reading.

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Thanks, lovely Nell, for having me as your guest again! I’m Ellie, and I write MM Historical Romance novellas.

Today I’m chatting about my new MMM Romance, An Unlikely Alliance, written for JMS Books’ Regency Trio submission call.

An Unlikely Alliance is both an individual release and will also be published together with two other fabulous stories, As Many Stars by K.L. Noone and The Hunting Box by Alexandra Caluen. Three times the fun! These stories are the 20% off new release sale at JMS Books until May 10th.

When I started imagining my Regency trio, I had the idea of each of them contrasting in social status and personality, which somehow clicked in the perfect combination. So we have smart and streetwise Abe, Humphrey, a rather sheltered young gentleman and Clem, who bonds with both men and introduces them to each other.

Clem is an orphan who has navigated his course through his academic prowess. An able pupil, he won a scholarship to Oxford University and had dreams of returning for further study once he can afford it. During his university years, he believed he was on an equal footing with his fellow students despite his lack of wealth and connections.

After graduating, his future seemed assured when he was hired as a confidential secretary to a university acquaintance, Richard Farquarson, a young gentleman of great expectations. Clem’s several months of employment were sharply curtailed when he was falsely accused of theft. Without personal influence or anyone to speak on his behalf, Clem’s prospects were ruined.

This experience shaped his outlook. When dismissed from his post, Clem felt he had nothing to lose. So he indulged his preference for men, and was open to any available experience in the bagnios, taverns and molly houses of Regency London. Also, having been the fall guy for the theft, subsequently, Clem trusts no one.

The exception to the rule is Abe, whom he met when in between jobs.  Abe has always dealt straight with Clem and they frequently act on their mutual attraction. But it takes the introduction of Humphrey, a recent conquest of Clem’s, for the three of them to emotionally consolidate.

Blurb:

During the final week of February in 1808, Clement Metcalfe has a brief and heated encounter in the back room of a busy London coffee house with bashful gentleman Humphrey Atkinson.

Clem, a private secretary, is accustomed to grabbing at random interludes to brighten his tedious and underpaid working days following a professional fall from grace. But Humphrey seems to hanker after more than one taste.

So Clem introduces Humphrey to Abe Pengelly, the other semi-regular man in his life. Imposingly dark and dangerous, Abe is an enigmatic figure, with his operations based at the decaying and infamous Old Red Lion Tavern. His endeavours, if not blatantly lawless and criminal, are definitely murky.

There’s an undeniable attraction between the three men that promises passion. However, Clem discovers that his lovers are also willing to exert themselves on his behalf to right past wrongs.

 Might this be a case where three is not a crowd but the perfect number?

Excerpt:

Humphrey had tried and failed to forget the episode in the coffee house the week before. It wasn’t as though he had the excuse of no other distractions. He barely had a free minute given the number of house guests arriving for the start of the Season. There seemed to be a constant round of relatives expecting him to conduct them in the social round.

At Drury Lane Theatre, Humphrey was entirely distracted during a performance of Hamlet, simply because one of the supporting actors bore a faint resemblance to the man from the coffee house. Only then did he admit he was a lost cause. In conversation with his cousins afterwards, he tried to hide that he couldn’t remember a single scene from the play, even though he’d studied it at school. 

So after dinner one evening, when he wasn’t required for an hour or two, he audaciously decided to beard his seducer in his den, or rather the Fleet Street tavern he frequented. 

Humphrey was so flustered by his uncharacteristic decisiveness that he changed his waistcoat three times. Although the blond had seemed more interested in what lay beneath Humphrey’s clothing. 

He eyed his modest supply of coats with trepidation. Is the green too sober, the blue too frivolous and the buff-coloured one too plain? 

In the end, he solved the problem by closing his eyes and picking a garment at random. He didn’t dare glance at the mirror in case that prompted more equivocation. 

When downstairs, Humphrey hesitated by the drawing room door, lured by comfortable congeniality versus the pursuit of illicit pleasure. One minute he was about to enter the room and in the next, he was haring out of the front door and down the steps to the street. 

He calmed his pace when he reached Holborn, slowed by a steady trickle of early evening foot traffic that thickened as he made his way towards Fleet Street.

I’m just going for a quiet drink, he thought. He might not even be there. 

Humphrey halted at the entrance to the tavern, his resolve failing him. His vacillation was overcome by pure coincidence. A group of men required access and their impetus carried him over the threshold. Humphrey removed his crown beaver hat and looked around the unevenly shaped room. 

With a combination of disappointment and relief, he concluded that his quarry wasn’t present. Then he spotted him in a corner nook. A second glance proved that he was not alone. 

Humphrey shifted from foot to foot. In any given social situation he was a reliable sort of fellow, or so Aunt Cece reassured him. But etiquette couldn’t guide him in this particular situation.

It didn’t help that the man seated beside his acquaintance was equally attractive; well-built and with deep olive toned skin. He made a pleasing contrast to the other’s fair slenderness. His massive build reminded Humphrey enticingly of a bare knuckle boxer in an exhibition bout at the Lyceum. 

Humphrey was dawdling indecisively when the blond looked up. Humphrey was neatly hooked by that sultry grey gaze. The man nudged his friend. He whispered a few words in his ear, from which hung a gold hoop. The other man grinned and looked Humphrey up and down in a far too knowledgeable way.

Oh good heavens, has he told him? Humphrey felt hot and cold and flustered all at once. He didn’t know whether to be flattered, alarmed, or horrified. He stood stock still, to the annoyance of another patron, halted in the course of reaching the bar.

“Scuse me, squire.” 

“Beg your pardon,” Humphrey said immediately. Unfortunately, his reflex response brought him in front of the table occupied by his coffee house companion.  

“Care to join us?” The dark aspected man asked.

The invitation seemed to be loaded with meaning.

Buy An Unlikely Alliance:

Amazon :: Universal Book Link :: JMS Books :: Add to Goodreads :: Add to Bookbub

Buy Regency Lovers Trio

Amazon :: Universal book link :: JMS Books :: Add to Goodreads :: Add to Bookbub

Bio:

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: https://elliethomasromance.wordpress.com/
Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/8308047409266947
X: @e_thomas_author
Bluesky: @elliethomas.bsky.social
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19835510.Ellie_Thomas
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ellie-thomas

Naked Gardening Day

I almost forgot that today was Naked Gardening Day, but luckily I checked Twitter X and Holly Day had posted about it. Thanks for reminding me, dear! Because seriously. I love naked gardening day. Not that I’m weeding the flower beds unclothed, but knowing that other people do makes me really happy! And a bit nervous about their sensitive bits…but to each their own, right? 😆

I love it so much that I actually decided to do some promo, so here I am, blogging (it doesn’t happen all that often these days, so yay!) eager to remind you about my NGD story Strike a Pose, and the box set containing five NGD stories! Because as it happens, JMS Books are also having a sale today, offering 45% off all ebooks, so it’s the perfect time to shop for cheap books!

45% off at JMS Books

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

But wait! There’s also a box set with five stories written by me, Holly Day, A.L. Lester, K.L. Noone and Amy Spector. I love how we all interpreted the same theme so differently and I love all the stories. If you haven’t read them yet, you really should! 🙂

45% off at JMS Books

Celebrate World Naked Gardening Day with five gay romance 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 the first Saturday of May.

Contains the stories:

Perfect Rows by Holly Day: Everything would’ve been perfect if Grayson hadn’t been forced to share his garden with Cam. Grayson wants to grow vegetables, and he has a plan for how to do it. Cam loves flowers in perfect rows, but Grayson is incapable of growing things in lines. Most days end in conflict, at least until Grayson realizes he can shut Cam up by kissing him. But will they ever be able to agree about the garden?

Strike a Pose by Nell Iris: Didrik would do anything for his BFF Filip, including taking naked pictures for a charity calendar of his dad Johan, the stunning man responsible for Didrik’s gay awakening. Now a widower, Johan is ready to move on. As they start the project, the attraction between them grows. Their connection is easy, but not without challenges. Will they get their happily ever after?

The Death of Digby Catch by Amy Spector: When August Catch arrives at the Arachne’s Loom estate to collect his late Uncle Digby’s things, he is thrown together with Theo Webb, the heir to the Webb family fortune. The attraction is instant. When Theo begins to suspect Digby may have been murdered, he and August will need to work together to discover the killer, and not let the thing growing between them be a distraction.

The Hermit of Aldershill Manor by K.L. Noone: Charlie’s ready to start a new job and life at Aldershill Manor. As a historian, he’s thrilled to dive into the archives. And he can run from a messy break-up. And explore lovely gardens, too. Lionel does not like tourists, conversations, or social niceties. But he loves his job: helping beauty grow. When he finds the new historian caught in a storm, he offers shelter, which might bloom into more.

Warning! Deep Water by A.L. Lester: Spring 1947. England has just come through the worst winter in living memory. Peter’s been drifting since he left the army a year ago. George is lonely, despite the busy horticultural nursery he owns. Peter’s decision to take a swim in the irrigation tank presents them both with the chance to reach out and help each other. Can two misfits find a way to fit together with someone after all?

Read Around the Rainbow: Writer’s Block

Read Around the Rainbow is a blogging project featuring yours truly, A.L. Lester, Ofelia Gränd, Holly Day, K.L. Noone, Amy Spector, Addison Albright, Fiona Glass, Lilian Francis, and Ellie Thomas. Every month, we pick a topic and then we blog about it. Check the other blog posts by clicking the RAtR widget in the sidebar, or the links at the bottom of this post.

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The April topic for the Read Around the Rainbow blog project is Writer’s Block, the two dreaded words constantly in the back of a writer’s mind, and when Ally suggested it in our group chat, my brain said Yes! I can write about writer’s block.

Because I haven’t submitted a story in months, I haven’t written in months. I’ve opened my WIP a few times and tinkered with what I’ve already written, but I haven’t added any new words. I haven’t had any new ideas–which admittedly isn’t in itself necessarily a sign of writer’s block for me; I’m a one-idea-at-the-time kind of author unless my current WIP isn’t working for me–but I haven’t even really felt the urge to write, I’ve just had a guilty voice in the back of my head nagging me that I should write.

This has to be writer’s block, right? Hasn’t it?

Or is it just that I have a full-time day job (with too much to do and not enough staff) that demands more and more of my time and mental energy, and with a long commute that steals two hours of my day? Is it that I have elderly parents and in-laws with serious health issues (like dementia, heart attacks, and threat of amputation of a limb) that kills a lot of joy and positivity in my life? Do I have a beloved granddaughter (and her equally beloved parents) I want to spend as much time as possible with to infuse my life with happiness? Do I have a huge house and garden that require my attention, a shelf full of books I want to read, and I couch I want to lie on and read said books. Yes. The answer to all these questions is yes!

There’s also the question of is writer’s block even a real thing? Writer John Green’s father doesn’t seem to think so, because he said “Coal miners don’t get coal miners’ block.” And his statement is maybe more true than we writers want to acknowledge; I go up and go to work every day and perform well enough to make my bosses so happy they gave me not one, but two significant salary raises this past year, while my parents and in-laws are still struggling with their health issues, and all the other items om my list above are still true. So I clearly don’t have a day-job-block.

I asked the Internet about writer’s block, both if it’s a thing and what the definition is; Merriam-Webster says it’s “a psychological inhibition preventing a writer from proceeding with a piece,” and this article on Masterclass.com describes it as “Writer’s block is a phenomenon experienced by writers that is best described as an overwhelming feeling of being stuck in the writing process without the ability to move forward and write anything new.”

When I asked the Internet about the causes, it listed things like self doubt, perfectionism, distractions (as in social media and the Internet in general), lack of ideas, fear (of both failure and success), and lack of control (external factors, difficult personal situations etc).

A quick look at that list tells us that yes, according to those definitions, I most definitely suffer from writer’s block. But there’s also another aspect I haven’t yet talked about. Motivation. And a big scary question: do I still want to be an author?

The honest answer is I don’t know, which is terrifying for someone who’s dreamed of being an author since I was a little kid, but my motivation is at an all-time low, and I think that’s my biggest problem. Writing takes a lot of time, and a lot of that time is spent doing things that isn’t writing and things that aren’t fun, like writing blurbs, and promoting myself if I want people to know about my books and buy them. And honestly; I hate promoting myself, I’m not that type of person, I would much rather that someone else handled all that for me, so I could just sit in my quiet corner and focus on the thing about being an author that I actually like; the writing itself.

And since I suck at promoting myself and I tend to write things that not a lot of people want to read (short stories, people in general wants longer stories, and preferably series, too), I’m not a big name author. I know I could apply myself more and probably be more successful; I could write full-length novels, I could include more sex in my stories, I could include side plots in my books and not only focus on the romance and the couple, I could write about the popular tropes, I could do a lot of things that potentially would make me more successful.

But do I really want to be a big name author? I mean, yes, it would be great if my writing could support me and I could quit my day job, but I don’t want to be famous. I don’t want everything I do or say to be analyzed to death by people, and I don’t want to be recognized everywhere I go. I like being this country nobody who can go outside without even brushing my hair if I don’t feel like it.

So the important question for me isn’t if I have writer’s block or not, it’s is it worth it? Is it worth spending that much time (when I have so little to spare) doing something with next to no return of investment?

Or would my time be better spent at the zoo, digging up fake dinosaur fossils with little W, my dinosaur-loving granddaughter? I still wouldn’t be able to quit my day job, but the emotional return of investment of hanging out with her is unprecedented.

And maybe that’s more important than to be able to call myself an author?

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Don’t forget to go check out the others’ thoughts on this topic!

Ellie Thomas :: Ofelia Gränd :: Addison Albright

New Release Spotlight: Lucky in Love by Ellie Thomas

The fabulous Ellie Thomas is back on the blog today, talking about her latest release Lucky in Love. Welcome back, Ellie, it’s always lovely to have you.

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Thanks, lovely Nell, for having me as your guest again! I’m Ellie, and I write MM Historical Romance novellas. I’m popping in today to talk about my new release, Lucky in Love, the follow-up to last year’s Restoration story, Lucky John. Lucky in Love is in the 20% off new release sale at JMS Books until April 12th.

Lucky in Love, is chiefly set at Whitehall Palace at the start of the reign of Charles II. In the first story, Lucky John, we followed some of the events that led to the king’s Restoration in 1660 through the eyes of MC Owen as an envoy.

In Lucky in Love, we share Owen’s perspective on the king and the beginnings of the new reign when he’s summoned to London in 1661 with his servant and lover, John.

The king might have returned to England to great acclaim but he still had to face practicalities and some opposition. I thoroughly enjoyed the historical research for this story, discovering that Whitehall Palace, the king’s London base, was far from the magnificent headquarters one might expect.

Apart from the Banqueting House (still in use today) built by his grandfather, James I, the bulk of the palace dated from the Tudor period, over 100 years before and was sadly in need of a refit. It must have contrasted poorly with all the modern palaces Charles visited in exile in France and The Hague.

According to Antonia Fraser’s biography of Charles II, the king didn’t only prefer Windsor Castle for its leafy surroundings but (unlike Whitehall) because the rural position made it an easily fortified stronghold.

There was certainly some opposition to the new king, and the memory of the execution of his father during the Civil Wars must have had a deep impact on Charles’ psyche.

It was fun describing Owen’s encounter with the king when he bumps into the monarch in the Privy Garden at Whitehall Palace. At thirty-one, Charles’ hair was still black, and he wore it long. By his mid-thirties, he’d gone grey and so cropped it and wore a wig, more in keeping with contemporary fashion.

He’s described as saturnine, with sallow skin, dark eyes and deep grooves on either side of his mouth from the uncertainty of exile and grief of the loss of his father. It was interesting to see aspects of Charles through Owen’s eyes. A former drinking companion during exile, yet with the awareness that this man, however friendly, is his sovereign.

Owen’s only ambition is to be allowed to return peacefully to his farm. He doesn’t envy the king’s position and power. Also, he has no compulsion to promote his interests at court, unlike his older brother, Lewis. Owen has all he needs, his family, his lands, and most of all John. He rejoices that soon, he’ll be free to return home to the countryside and spend his life loyally and faithfully with the man he loves, far away from the promiscuity and backbiting of the royal court.

Blurb:

Sequel to Lucky John

After years of exile during Commonwealth rule following the English Civil Wars, Owen Montgomery is home to stay in his Monmouthshire with John, the rescued kitchen lad who has become the light of Owen’s life. 

Owen has enjoyed eighteen months of peace since his tenure as an official envoy on behalf of King Charles II. In the autumn of 1661, Owen is torn from his comfortable life by a summons from his brother, Lewis, a courtier close to the king. Owen is reluctant to take John to London, concerned about the impact of corruption and temptations of court life on such a well-meaning innocent. But how can he refuse John anything?

Owen reluctantly fulfils his duty to his brother while John gets to grips with the palace and its hazards. Can Owen continue to protect John from harm? Or might his constant vigilance stifle the man he loves?

Book Links:

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Universal Book Link :: Add to Bookbub :: Add to Goodreads

Excerpt:

“When do we leave?” 

John’s question cut across Owen’s preoccupation, causing his response to be sharper than intended.

“I’ll make plans to depart as soon as I can. I said nothing about you coming with me. There is no we.”

The hurt and dismay that crossed John’s face would have affected a more unfeeling man than Owen. He took a conciliatory step forward, but John had quickly recovered and stood his ground, his chin lifting in recognisable defiance. 

“Then I’d better start your packing,” he said. His dignified exit was slightly marred by closing the door with more than necessary force.

Owen let out a huff of breath. This will not do, he thought. He shouldn’t have taken out his annoyance at his brother on John. It’s not his fault. Also, Owen didn’t need domestic strife on top of Lewis’ infuriating demands. 

He folded the abandoned letter and tucked it into his clothing to scrutinise later. Then he proceeded about the more immediate business of placating John.

When he reached his bed chamber, John was kneeling on the floor beside the open clothes chest. A couple of Owen’s spare shirts were laid on the bed, next to Owen’s old army snapsack. 

John’s apparent compliance was contradicted by the oilcloth bag strategically placed alongside. 

Owen had bought this item to replace the inadequate cloth bundle which held John’s possessions after he rescued John from the miserable existence of a put-upon kitchen boy at a country inn. John had been thrilled by its similarity to Owen’s leather satchel that had carried important documents of office.

Owen had smiled at how John had puffed out his thin chest with pride the first time he had slung it over his shoulder in imitation of Owen. But now the bag, or rather the intent behind it, invoked a frown. 

“I misspoke downstairs and meant no harm.” 

John ignored this opening salvo and continued his task with unnerving concentration.

“It’s not that I don’t want you with me.”

“Then why are you leaving me behind? It’s not like we haven’t been to London before.”

Owen had taken up with John towards the end of his tenure as a messenger, so the lad had accompanied him on his few final assignments reporting to the capital. It was natural for John to assume that where Owen went, he would follow. But this is different, Owen thought.

He would be within his rights to admonish a household servant for questioning his judgment. John was far more than that and had always been so, at least in private. He might pull out the servant’s truckle bed at night from custom, but it was seldom occupied. Since their arrival the April before last, John had spent every night in Owen’s arms as though it was his rightful place. Owen wouldn’t have it any other way.

Unshed tears sparkled in John’s eyes. At any sign of distress from John, Owen felt like the worst kind of brute although he had never beaten him or even threatened to. God would strike off my hand if that ever crossed my mind.

He sat on the end of the bed. “If we were going anywhere but the royal court in London, then I would take you without hesitation.” 

“Aren’t I good enough to come with you?”

“It’s the other way around,” Owen replied without hesitation. “It’s not a decent place. Palace life doesn’t suit us ordinary folk.” Owen recalled the heedless customs of the court in exile abroad. He reckoned such indulgent behaviour would have increased a hundred-fold since the king’s return to England. 

John was unconvinced.

“You think I’d get into trouble.”

“I’m worried that you’ll be harmed.” John’s attention was caught by Owen’s emphatic statement. Before he could be interrupted, Owen expanded on his theme and concerns. “Some wine-sodden whoreson might lay his hands on you, heedless of your protests. Or you could fetch a thrashing for speaking out of turn.” 

John regarded him frankly.

“Leaving me at home might ease your mind, but it won’t stop me worrying about you. Especially if the royal court is as perilous as you say.”

“I can take care of myself.”

John came to sit beside Owen, tracing his fingers over the scar on his back that lay beneath his shirt, evidence of Owen’s experience in battle. 

“Evidence would suggest otherwise.”

Bio:

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: https://elliethomasromance.wordpress.com/
Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/8308047409266947
X: @e_thomas_author
Bluesky: @elliethomas.bsky.social
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19835510.Ellie_Thomas
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ellie-thomas

New Release Spotlight: The Way Home by Ellie Thomas

Thanks, lovely Nell, for having me as your guest again! I’m Ellie, and I write MM Historical Romance novellas. I’m popping in today to talk about my new release, The Way Home, the eighth novella in my Regency Twelve Letters series. The Way Home is in the 20% off new release sale at JMS Books until March 8th.

In The Way Home, the focus shifts from Regency London, the usual setting of my Twelve Letters stories, to focus on Harry and Luc, two members of my ensemble cast that consists of four established couples.

In book 7, A Festive Gathering at Chelsea, Luc asks Harry to spend the festive season with him and his parents in Essex, far away from their usual stamping ground of London’s theatre world where Luc is a violinist and Harry is an actor.

This trip introduces the theme of home and family into the story. Luc is the breadwinner for his parents, aristocratic émigrés who fled France with their young family over twenty years before, finding shelter with English relatives in a small cottage on the edge of a country estate.

Luc adores his vague, unworldly parents, even if they drive him to distraction and load him with responsibility. It was lovely to see this dynamic from Harry’s point of view, protective of the man he loves and yet able to perceive the genuine bond between parents and son.

Harry has a far more fractious relationship with his family. Having refused to join the family oyster business in Kent, Harry ran off to London four years previously to seek fame and fortune. Due to Luc’s urging, Harry has been in touch with his family for six months in a cautious exchange of lwtters.

But seeing how Luc relates to his parents jogs Harry’s conscience, particularly as Essex isn’t too far away from Harry’s family home in Whitstable on the Kentish coast. With Luc’s support, Harry decides to try and make amends, for good or ill.

Blurb:

Sequel to A Festive Gathering at Chelsea

In the winter of 1817, Drury Lane Theatre actor Henry Kent, otherwise known as Harry Smith, ventures into deepest Essex to meet the parents of his French musician lover Luc Gerrard. 

Harry isn’t sure what to expect away from the familiar bustle of London, apart from being bored witless in the countryside. He’s never come across a couple of French aristocrats at close quarters. But Harry is nothing if resourceful and charming, and besides, he’s with Luc, which is what matters.

But once surrounded by the family that Luc adores, Harry can’t help thinking of his relatives across the Essex border on the Kent coast. Harry made a clean break when he left Whitstable four years ago to pursue his career on the London stage, resulting in his parents’ fury and a flat ultimatum. He has only renewed contact with them by letter in recent months, with Luc’s encouragement.

Should Harry let things lie? Or might he summon the courage to make a trip to the seaside in an attempt at reconciliation?   

Book Links:

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Universal Book Link :: Add to Goodreads :: Add to Bookbub

Excerpt:

Luc led the way up the staircase, giving Harry a brief tour by the light of the candle. “Mama and Papa are at the front of the house with the guest room next door. That’s where my sister Elisabeth and her husband will stay. Then their two children will sleep in Elisabeth’s old room, and that just leaves you and me.”

By the time Luc had completed this description, they were walking along a corridor that led towards the back of the house. Luc stopped and opened the door.

“It’s not much,” he said.

The room wasn’t large, but its square proportions and high ceiling gave it a sense of spaciousness. Also, by its contents, it was clearly Luc’s room from boyhood.

Typically, there were no toy soldiers on display. On the dresser lay a child-sized violin case surrounded by the usual clutter of rosin and spare violin strings that characterised Luc’s presence in their London home. 

Harry was charmed by these symbols of Luc as a child. However, he was relieved that the original bed had been replaced by one suitable for Luc’s adult height and of a width to encompass them both. 

A small fire had been lit in the grate and their bags were placed beside the bed, proof of Luc’s industry. Harry sat on the mattress and bounced to check for any creaks. 

“This is cosy.”

Luc immediately started apologising which Harry now regarded as a family trait.

“I’m sorry it’s a bit shabby. I did write to my parents to ask the maid to give the place a thorough airing.”

“I wasn’t expecting Brighton Pavilion. It’ll do fine.” Harry glanced around the room. “It’s about the same size as our bedroom at home, more or less. Anyway, we’re together, which is what counts.” 

Luc’s brow cleared. “It’s good to have you here,” he said with a shy smile. He lit the bedside candle from the one he carried. “I’ll get some hot water for washing then we’ll be set for the night.”

Briefly left to his own devices, Harry couldn’t be bothered to unpack properly. It can wait until morning. He dug out a nightshirt from his bag. At home, he preferred to sleep naked, winter or summer, curled up close to Luc’s bare skin. 

However, Harry conceded that compromises must be made, both from common decency and the icy draught seeping through the sash window. On the plus side, they were a fair distance from the other occupants and not obligated to celibacy as long as they didn’t shout the house down. 

On Luc’s return, they made short work of sluicing away the grime of travel before jumping into bed. Luc turned to blow out the candle.

Despite the coverings of his nightshirt and the blankets, Harry was freezing. The dismal hooting of an owl made him shiver. 

“Are you warm enough?”

“No.”

“Should I fetch some more blankets from the clothes press?”

Warned by the rustle of sheets to Luc’s intent, Harry seized him before he could cause a waft of frigid air to enter their bed.

“Don’t you dare! Come here. I can think of a better way to stoke up some heat.”

Bio:

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: https://elliethomasromance.wordpress.com/
Facebook reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/8308047409266947
Twitter: @e_thomas_author
Bluesky: @elliethomas.bsky.social
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19835510.Ellie_Thomas
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ellie-thomas