New Release Spotlight: Vamprie Lee by Holly Day

Hello, everyone! Thank you, lovely Nell, for allowing me back on the blog. 

I’m Holly Day, and I write MM Romance stories for different holidays. I have a new story out. It’s called Vampire Lee, and I wrote it to celebrate Plant Something Day. 

Many of my books have characters who are into gardening, because I’m into gardening, but this isn’t one of them. Seeds will find their way into the ground, but it’s with some reluctance they end up there 😁

A Vampire Chew Toy is one of my favourite stories of those I’ve written, and one of my most read ones too. That’s not always the case, let me tell you! Most of the stories I like the most sell the least copies. If it’s because I like weird things or something about the cover/blurb simply doesn’t appeal to readers, I don’t know, but it is what it is.

In this case, though, my feelings about the story and public opinion align. A rarity! And when I wrote A Vampire Chew Toy, I set it up to be a series. Most often I don’t do that. When I started writing as Holly, I promised myself to only do stand-alone stories, so I wouldn’t get caught up in the stress of having to complete a series. 

It’s not one of my strong suits. I’m easily distracted. A new shiny story idea is always more interesting than an old tried one. New monsters always more fascinating. New characters more interesting. And I stuck to my no-series claim for about two years. Then the curse of the secondary characters set in. 

I have a tendency to fall in love with my sidekicks. The best friend deserves love too! And the colleague, and the guy next door, and the werewolf in the attic. It’s just the way it is.

But with A Vampire Chew Toy, I set myself up for a series from the start, and then… Yeah, it’s been a year and a half, and I meant to write Rei’s story.

Which I didn’t.

Vampire Lee is about *surprise, surprise* Lee. Lee is a vampire who works in the shifter bar, and he hears something he wasn’t meant to hear. From what he gathers, there is an underground fighting ring in Hagwall and people are forced to fight against their will.

Lee goes to the house where Mars, Murrie, Hanna, Rei, Faelan, Devin and Dillon live. Everyone but Dillon works for a paranormal police unit, but it’s Dillon who catches Lee’s interest.

Dillon has had enough of vampires to last him a lifetime or two, but he ends up sharing a bed with Lee, and without meaning to, he gets roped into the whole fighting ring investigation. And maybe, just maybe, he likes Lee despite him being a vampire. Except when he’s being stupid, of course.

It’s a story with a traumatic past, kidnapping, found family, and a shared bed. And I think it’s best you read A Vampire Chew Toy first, even though the heroes in this don’t play any big roles in A Vampire Chew Toy.

Blurb:

Can you chase away imaginary monsters with real life monsters?  

Dillon Ross lives in a huge mansion together with six other people. Four of them turn furry, one drinks blood regularly, and one is a former blood slave, just like him. Seven months ago, he was rescued from a fate worse than death, and he’s been doing his best to avoid people ever since. Which is hard when you have well-meaning but nosy roommates.   

Lee Dowell is a vampire working in a shifter bar. One day, he hears something he wasn’t meant to hear, and while his first reaction is to ignore it, he reaches out to the supernatural version of the police. It might not have been his smartest move, since he now has a target on his back.  

Dillon isn’t pleased to realize he is sharing a floor with a vampire. There are enough monsters in his head, he doesn’t need one in his space too. But Lee has put himself in danger by trying to help some people held captive, and his roommates are trying to keep him safe. Lee doesn’t do humans, but when Dillon’s nightmares wake him time and time again, he wants nothing more than to gather him in his arms and chase away his fears. But can you chase away imaginary monsters with real life monsters?

Paranormal gay romance: 50,312 words

Buy links:

JMS Books :: Amazon

Excerpt:

Dillon was looking out the window. Rei, Faelan, Mars, and Devin were placing pallet collars around the lawn. So far it looked like they were trying out different options. There was a lot of gesturing on Devin’s part and a lot of carrying and moving things around on the others.

He shuddered at the thought of being around Rei, Faelan, and Mars for any amount of time. And being outdoors? Part of him longed for it, but the outdoors was exposed. Anyone could grab him out there. It was safer to remain on the third floor behind closed doors.

He’d been on the patio the night before with Devin, and it had been equal parts terrifying and freeing. Fresh air. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat somewhere and breathed fresh air.

When they’d walked inside, Mars had been standing right inside the door. He’d given Dillon a small nod, which he believed was an acknowledgment of the text he’d sent.

He’d then spent the remainder of the night agonizing over said text. Mars must think him insane, believing someone would kidnap them. Not only believing it, but he’d also taken steps to protect Devin from the unseen monsters out there.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the stairs after he was sure everyone had eaten their breakfast that it hit him—he’d reached out to a monster to help protect him from monsters. Was it the reason Devin was with Mars? Date a vampire to scare away other vampires?

It made sense. Sort of.

Mars loved Devin, of that he had no doubt, but what did Devin get out of it? Safety?

He looked out the window again. Devin was laughing at something, and Rei was grinning at him. It wasn’t often Rei grinned, but when he did, it was most often with Devin. Or Dillon shouldn’t make assumptions, he hadn’t seen enough of Rei to judge him fairly. Maybe he grinned all the time when he was working at his desk.

Dillon left the window to fill a bottle and water the pepper plants Devin had given him. The least he could do was to try to keep them alive now when it looked like they were getting a garden.

Riffling through the seed packs Devin had bought, he read the instructions. Several of these should’ve been sown already. Tomatoes and carrots and there were some packs of different flowers. Sweet peas.

His breath froze.

A hazy memory of one of the foster homes he’d stayed in rose in his mind. There had been sweet peas growing along one side of the patio. Dillon had spent hours on end on the patio simply smelling them. He hadn’t lived there for long, only a few months, but he remembered sweet peas.

He read the instructions and headed for the door. Once he came down the stairs, he stopped. He had no idea where they had pots or soil or anything else he might need. If they had anything at all.

Hanna exited the office, hesitated before she gave him a soft smile and edged toward the kitchen, leaving as much space between them as she possibly could.

“Hanna?”

She stopped and turned to him.

“Are there any pots and eh… potting soil?”

A huge grin stretched her lips. “Yes, Devin bought some. I think he put it in the broom closet in the kitchen. Murrie told him to carry it into the basement, but…” Her voice died away, then she straightened her back. “Devin doesn’t do basements.”

Smart.

Dillon nodded a thanks since he couldn’t find his voice. Basement. He shuddered. For the most part, he forgot there was a basement. Murrie had told him there was a gym down there he was welcome to use. When Dillon had balked, he’d sighed and told him Devin wouldn’t go there either.

About Holly Day

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 :: Newsletter :: TikTok

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.

---

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

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.

---

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

New Release Spotlight: The Snaccident by Holly Day

Today, I welcome back the lovely Holly Day to the blog, who’s here to talk about her newest book, The Snaccident. Can we just take a moment to admire the brilliance of that title, the Snaccident? Love it!!

---

Hello, everyone! Thank you, lovely Nell, for allowing me another spot on your blog. I’ll make sure to send you some snacks 😘

I’m Holly Day, and I have a new story out called The Snaccident. If you don’t know me, I write MM Romance for different holidays. Not Easter and Christmas (though it might happen) but those smaller, lesser-known holidays.

The day we’re celebrating this month is National Snack Day. And if that isn’t a day that deserves some attention, I don’t know what is. I mean, snacks! What’s better than snacks?

There is such diversity there 😅

Timothy, the main character of this story, has a thing for dried apricots. I’m in favour. I like dried apricots, but it’s not something I have on hand all that often. There was a time in my life when I often did, but now I’m the mother of four, and snacks tend to disappear before I have the chance to get to them.

But Timothy doesn’t only eat dried apricots, he also eats grapes, cashews, snickers, pretzels, chips, chocolate bars, and more dried apricots. And this is a short story. 

The reason Timothy is constantly eating is that he’s a highly sensitive empath, and he has trouble keeping his shields up. Snacks help. He needs a constant intake of energy to be able to function, and even then… Being trapped in a car with the idiot best friend of his brother, whom he’s been in love with for as long as he can remember, isn’t ideal.

Being pushed off the road and having to share a hotel room with the idiot friend slash the love of his life who turned him down years ago, is even worse. 

I love this story! It’s short, 59 pages, but snacks, only one bed, brother’s best friend, and more snacks. What could possibly go wrong?

Normally, I write third person, past tense, and dual POV. This is third person, past tense, but we only get Timothy’s POV. It’s a bit of a challenge when you’re used to being able to tell a tale from both sides, to have to show Rush’s (the idiot friend) emotions and intentions without being inside of him. But it was fun and forced me to have to think a little differently.

So, we have an empath, we have the only-one-bed trope, brother’s best friend, years of pining, and hurt from having been turned down, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

Blurb:

Snack! Timothy needs a snack! Though he fears there aren’t enough snacks in the world to keep the walls around his heart intact this time around.

As a highly sensitive empath, Timothy Rose is in constant need of food. He has a hard time keeping his mental shields up, and snacks help. A little. He spends most of his days avoiding people since he easily overloads. The only person he’s ever wanted to be close to is Rush Evans, his brother’s best friend. But years ago, Rush turned him down despite hooking up with everything with a pulse, so now Timothy refuses to go anywhere near him.

When Timothy’s brother begs him to give Rush a ride to his wedding, Timothy says no. Initially. He should’ve stuck to his guns because nothing ever goes as planned when Rush is nearby, and simply because Timothy can sense Rush wanting him this time around, and the two of them have a bit of an accident and end up in a small room with only one bed, doesn’t mean he should throw caution to the wind. Right?

Paranormal Gay Romance :: 14,754 words

Buy links:

JMS Books :: Amazon :: Books2Read

Excerpt:

Timothy’s breaths burned his throat as they pushed between trees and over fallen logs. They kept going until his head was throbbing and his legs threatening to fold. Then Rush stopped abruptly, and Timothy almost stumbled into him.

“What are you doing?” Timothy moved to increase the distance between them. There was no time to stand around and admire the view while being hunted by wolves. If they were wolves. Rush hadn’t corrected him when he’d said wolves, so they most likely were.

“We need to get into a city. It’s much harder to track us if there are many scents around.” Rush took a step in his direction, and Timothy took one back.

“Sounds like an awesome plan. Where is the closest town?”

Rush narrowed his eyes at the snappy tone, but what the hell did he expect? Reaching into his pocket, Rush grabbed his phone. He was tapping on the screen, bringing it closer to his face as he squinted.

“Need glasses?”

Rush huffed and increased the distance between his face and the screen. “We’re here.” He gestured at the phone, and there is a town in… eh… that direction.” He waved a hand to their right.

“Great. How far?”

Rush increased the distance between them. “Three-four miles.”

Grabbing the Snickers, Timothy tore the paper off. As the sweet taste exploded on his tongue, some of the tension left him. “Right, let’s go then.” He took a step, and to his relief, Rush didn’t indicate they should run. Though if wolves were hunting them, they should move as fast as they could.

They walked in silence. Timothy regretted not having grabbed a water bottle from the car. The Snickers left him thirsty.

“So…”

Timothy glared at Rush. “What?”

“Who have you been seeing?”

Seeing? “What are you talking about?”

“You said you weren’t a virgin—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Of course, I’m not a virgin, but I don’t see how it has anything to do with the situation we’re in.”

Rush studied him, his eyes slowly narrowing as if he didn’t believe him. “For as long as I remember, you’ve been unable to have anyone touch you. Hell, even your family keeps their distance from you, always at arm’s length, but now you’re fucking people? In my experience, there’s a lot touching going on then.”

Timothy raised his eyebrows at him only to wince and reach for the cut which started to slowly seep again. Damn.

“How bad is it?”

“The cut or the fucking?”

Rush grinned at him. “If the fucking is bad, they’re doing it wrong.”

“Idiot.”

They continued to walk, and Timothy was turning jittery. Want and longing swept through him, and it was so at odds with the situation, he feared he’d hit his head harder than he’d assumed. Maybe he had a concussion. Or… He glared at Rush. Horndog.

It was always like this. Every time he was around Rush, he was swamped with lusty emotions. It couldn’t be healthy to have his libido.

He needed a snack.

Grabbing the bag of apricots, he opened it and popped one into his mouth.

Rush snorted.

“What?” Timothy hadn’t meant to sound so defensive.

“You ate like five minutes ago.”

“So? There are emotions.”

Rush frowned. “Yeah, I think there’s supposed to be emotions. You can’t walk around without emotions.”

“Emotions that aren’t mine.”

Rush pressed his lips together. “It’s that bad? You can’t be around people?”

Rush had known him for the greater part of his life, he knew it was this bad. “I’m around people. I go to work every day.” Though he most often worked from home. Thank God for computers and admin jobs.

About Holly Day

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 :: Newsletter :: TikTok