Holiday Party - Jeff Erno

I've been reading this author's books for several years now, but this is the first time having him here on my blog. His books have made me laugh, cry, cringe, celebrate, and more. Here to share his take on the holidays is Jeff Erno! 

Happy Holidays

Guest Post by Jeff Erno

Growing up in a small, northern Michigan town, holiday celebrations became like thread that knit family, friends, and community together. Not just Christmas, Thanksgiving and New Year, but all holidays year-round.

Easter meant gathering at Sunset Park for the annual Easter Egg hunt, then dressing in our new Sunday finest for worship services at church.

On Memorial Day the entire town lined the two-lane street that was our town’s thoroughfare to honor the veterans who marched in uniform to the local cemetery. As a child I remember waiting, shoulders scrunched and eyes squeezed tightly closed, for the blasts of revelry when the soldiers fired their weapons into the air. I remember kneeling with my Gram at the gravesites of departed loved ones, family members I’d never met but knew quite well from the stories Gram had told me. We decorated the graves with flowers.

July 4^th, Independence Day, though not celebrated with gift-giving, truly became one of my favorite holidays. Everything happened outdoors. Sunshine, swimming, barbeques…and of course: fireworks. We always went camping, and I always got sunburned. And Mom made her famous potato salad, the best in the world. We devoured big, juicy, red watermelon, the kind with seeds, which we kids giddily spit at each other.

Labor Day marked the beginning of a new school year, and more importantly, a whole new wardrobe. The holiday was and ever will be the most bitter-sweet. I knew it would be the last big picnic of the year, but also the beginning of something exciting.

And isn’t Halloween every kid’s favorite? In second grade I surprised my classmates by dressing as a girl. My first time in drag, and I was a smashing success. Although the year before I’d gone as Raggedy Ann, so maybe that also counted as cross-dressing.  Mom always had huge Halloween parties, hosting all the neighborhood kids. We filled the bathtub and bobbed for apples, and one year even cordoned off the entire back three bedrooms of the house to create a spook house. My brother designed a coffin, and my sister dressed as Dracula. As our guests stepped into the room and peered into the casket, she sat up and scared the bejesus out of ‘em.

Thanksgiving meant food. Lots and lots of food inhaled by lots and lots of family. Mom and Gram cooked for days leading up to the event, and no matter what, all the family gathered. And by family I don’t just mean Mom, Dad, and kids. I’m talking neighbors who were like family. Close friends, classmates from school, even homeless people. I don’t ever remember a small Thanksgiving dinner. And God…the pies! Apple, cherry, lemon meringue, chocolate cream, mincemeat, pecan, and of course, pumpkin.

The day after Thanksgiving we didn’t get up at 3am to go wait in line at Wal-mart for Black Friday sales. No, we’d never heard of such a thing. Instead, it was the day we went to pick out our Christmas tree, which we then brought home to trim before decorating the rest of the house. The tree always went up that special Friday, and by the time Christmas arrived, a month later, the gifts extended from beneath the tree into the center of the room.

We kids woke up early. No, that’s too much of an understatement. We were pounding on Mom and Dad’s bedroom door in the middle of the night only to be yelled at, “Go back to bed!” My brother and I would moan, and I’d crawl back in bed and stare up at the ceiling wide-eyed, my heart pounding with excitement as the seconds ticked by one at a time until finally the little hand on the clock lined up with “5”.

Of course we got to stay up till midnight on New Year’s Eve. And yes, every year it was a pizza party with soda pop, chips, and fake champagne (juice). We always watched the ball drop in Times Square on the console TV and blew into those noisemakers that sounded like honking geese.

Holidays equal memories for me. They connect me to my family, many of whom have departed. Mom, Dad, and Gram are no longer here to celebrate, and sadly the holidays no longer thread our family together except for maybe in spirit.

For the past few years, during the holiday season, we’ve heard a lot of noise from people claiming there’s a war on Christmas. I think I understand where they’re coming from, what it is they fear. Growing up in that small town, things remained constant. The holidays, though always special, were quite predictable. And as I got older, I clung to these memories. I associate each holiday with something significant to me. With people I love.

But as I grew older I realized that my special memories of the holidays we celebrated were important to me because of the unique person that I am, and because of the specific way I was raised. But so many people celebrate holidays in different ways, in manners I’d never known about. They’ve celebrated religious holidays I’d never heard of.

The family that celebrates Hanukah or Ramadan or Kwanza certainly holds special memories of their own. Those who honor Solstice and Yule, and those who have no particular religious tradition but still participate in the spirit of generosity and gratitude, all choose to celebrate for their own special reasons which are important to them.

I think many people like me, who came of age in rural communities that didn’t particularly represent a diversity of people, fear that when we become willing to be more inclusive, the special memories and traditions we hold dear are going to somehow change or vanish altogether. Those who fear there is a war on Christmas, I think are really afraid there’s a war on the things they’re used to, the memories they have.

In my heart, I’ll forever hold the fond memories of my childhood holidays, but now I recognize that new, different experiences do not ever have to threaten cherished tradition. I don’t have my family surrounding me anymore, so I have a new family…not one of blood, but of love and of choice. I don’t have a real Christmas tree, but a small (cute) little tree I adorn with nostalgic ornaments that honor the people and events in my life that have meant the most to me. And I don’t wake up at three in the morning anxiously awaiting the crack of dawn to open gifts, but sometimes I’m awake at that time anyway, writing or editing my next novel while I bake my pumpkin pie.

Whatever holidays you may celebrate, and whatever fond memories you associate with them, may they be special and meaningful to you this year. And with all my heart I wish you…Happy Holidays.

Author Bio:

Jeff Erno began writing LGBT fiction in the late 1990s. Although an avid reader and amateur writer from a very young age, Jeff pursued a career as a retail store manager in Northern Michigan. When his first gay-themed novel was published, he was shocked that anyone would even want to read it. Four years later, he writes full time and has published fifteen novels. Jeff now lives in Southern Michigan, where he resides with his pure-white cat, Gandalf.

Jeff's writing credits include a variety of themes and sub-genres including male romance, Young Adult, Science Fiction, erotica, and BDSM. He is the winner of a 2012 Rainbow Award and an Honorable Mention in 2011. His style is unpretentious and focused upon emotionally-driven, character-based stories that touch the heart. Jeff is especially passionate about young adult literature and combating teen bullying and youth suicide. 

Jeff’s website

Leave a comment for a chance to win my holiday e-book, Gift Exchange.

In many ways, Kyle Evans is living his dream. He’s got a job he loves as a music teacher, working with elementary school students. He’s a bit of an introvert, though, and hasn’t had much of a social life since college. When he literally runs into his neighbor one day, all of that changes. Dan Richards is tall, dark, and handsome, and it soon becomes apparent that he’s interested in Kyle. After a rocky start, they hit it off, and within three years they’ve bought a home together and are engaged to be married. But Kyle now faces a dilemma. He wants to get his fiancé the perfect Christmas gift, but he has very little money. He puts on his thinking cap and devises a plan to deliver a spectacular surprise, but it’s going to take a little bit of ingenuity, a big sacrifice on his part, and a whole lot of luck.

Holiday Party - Joy Lynn Fielding

And now on to Day 10! Today, I have the pleasure of welcoming back an author who's been here a few times before. She's here to share with you her Christmas memories, and one of my favorite series of hers, Strength of the Pack. Take it away Joy!

What do I love about Christmas?  How about everything! J  When Emily offered me the opportunity to explain further, I wasn’t sure what to write about as there are so many things I enjoy about the holiday.  But as I thought, I realised they all have one thing in common – a sense of ritual.  From the peeling of approximately twenty million potatoes on Christmas Eve to the warming of mince pies at 11am on Christmas Day ready for the return of the church-goers, they’re things that have been a constant since my childhood, even while we’ve welcomed new family members and, more sadly, bidden farewell to others.

Exhausted after a day of rooting through  presents

One of my favourite rituals is decorating my tree.  I used to have a very tasteful set of matching ornaments, bought from one of the big stores  But about ten years ago a friend gave me a tree decoration of a ship in a bottle, knowing my love of Age of Sail (nothing at all to do with uniforms and breeches, of course).  That started me on a different path. 

  

My tree is now a very long way from elegant, hosting an eclectic range of ornaments, but each one of them holds a good memory, be it a gold-dipped aspen leaf from a holiday in Colorado, a brass biplane from a trip to Bruges, or the wooden rocking horse from a local shop bought on a day out with friends.  And then there’s the rather extraordinary tree-topper angel that my sister brought back for me from a trip to Finland. 

So each year, ten days before Christmas Day, I warm myself a mince pie, pour a glass of sherry, and decorate the tree.  I buy a new ornament every year so that it remains a living tradition. This year, I’m on the hunt for a wolf ornament to commemorate the year I’ve spent writing my Strength of the Pack series. 

To celebrate the series nearing its conclusion (there is one last book to come), I’m offering an ebook from the series to a randomly drawn commenter on this post.  It’s the winner’s choice as to which book, and details of each book are on my website here. 

And if you’d like to share what rituals you enjoy over the holiday period – or have any suggestions about how to keep a Labrador out of the piles of presents under the tree – I’d love to hear them!

Author Bio:

Joy Lynn Fielding is a sucker for happy endings. She believes, however, that if characters don’t suffer along the way, they won’t fully appreciate being happy. Not all of her characters thank her for this viewpoint, but what do they know?

Joy lives in a small English market town, and also inhabits a number of fictional worlds at any one time, reflecting what she’s writing and what she’s reading. She has a tendency to share the latest fascinating facts she’s stumbled across in her research for books with anyone who will listen. Thankfully she has a very patient Labrador who has a gift for looking as though he’s interested in what she’s saying while he waits for the food to arrive.

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Holiday Party - Lucienne Diver

And now, to help kick off Week 2, I'd like to introduce y'all to a wonderful lady who I had the pleasure of meeting at Coastal Magic as well. And now, here to share a holiday story from her Latter-Day Olympians series is Ms. Lucienne Diver!

Secret Santa

I stared at the foreign object sitting in the middle of my desk in all its golden, gift-wrapped glory.  It hadn't been there when I'd left, and now my assistant Jesus (pronounced Hey-Zeus) was claiming not to know a thing about it.

Jesus knew everything about everything that happened in the office.  It all went through him, and if there were any package to be delivered, he'd have met the messenger at the door and delivered it to my desk with his trademark snark.

The fact that he was at a loss concerned me.

"Should I call the bomb squad, do you think?" I asked.  I hadn't picked up the present.  Hadn't dared shake it.  I had looked for a card, completely hands off, but if existed, it was well hidden.

I'd had enough dealings lately with the Latter-Day Olympians—Greek and other gods running around modern day with a fraction of their previous power but all of their former foibles—to be suspicious.  Mythology was full of evidence that all that glittered wasn't gold.  Zeus had snuck in to seduce Danae as a golden rain.  Eris, the goddess of discord, in retaliation for being left off a wedding guest list had tossed a golden apple into the reception, knowing the trouble it would cause when she announced it was for the fairest of them all. The resultant three-way catfight lead to the first beauty pageant, complete with bribery.  The judge, Paris, chose poorly and ended up with the “prize” of the most beautiful woman in the world, nevermind that she was already married.  Her husband, a king, took exception, leading to the Trojan War.

As I stared at the present, the ribbons flared out like little wings and the package fluttered right there on the desk, bobbing and weaving and then landing again, the ribbons settling back into their former configuration.  So no pressure switch then.  No unstable contents.  The sender on the other hand...

"Hermes," I muttered between my teeth.

"Who?" Jesus asked, rubbing at his eyes like he could not just have seen what he thought he'd seen.

I struggled to remember the trickster god’s street name...well, one of them anyway.  He had more aliases than my best friend Christie had shoes, and that was saying something.

"Herman Molyvos,” I answered.

"But how would he have gotten it in here?"

"Drone?" I said, knowing very well it was no such thing.

"But your window is closed," he pointed out, as if that was the only objection to my patently ridiculous response.

"I don't know then, the magic of Christmas.  All the same, you might want to step back."

He gave me a funny look, but I was used to that.  He took one step back.  Then two.  If I could have figured out a way to get him out of the room entirely, I would have, but we'd come in to discuss his Christmas bonus, and I knew he wasn't leaving my office without it.

"What do you think it's going to do?" he asked when he judged himself far enough away.

"There's no telling."

I took a step forward for each of Jesus's steps back until I could reach out and touch the gift box.  It wasn't very large, but then, I wasn't really sure size mattered to the trickster god.  I reached out for the ribbon, only realizing as I did that I was already half-cringing away, one eye closed to protect it in case something went wrong.

That was just silly.  I steeled myself, took a deep breath and undid the ribbon, facing my fate head-on.

The ribbon came free with a trill of musical notes, like from a harp, and a puff of, yup, golden glitter.  Then it did a little dance right there on the table and popped open on its own, something like a Chinese take-out container.  Inside, something grunted, and the package rocked once before that something erupted into the air.  I stepped back and watched in stunned amazement as a little white figurine, gleaming like alabaster flew up into the air, grunted again and circled my head.  A flying pig.  Well, boar.  There were tusks and wings and a little piggy tail.

I chanced a glance away to see how Jesus was taking it, and he stood gaping like a fish, his right hand flashing out to bless himself.

And then the little figure dove back into the box and a letter rose in his place, unfolding as it did, floating in the air before me.  But I didn't have to read.  Hermes's voice came through loud and clear, burbling over with mischief.

You are cordially invited to my first ever annual ugly sweater party.  I understand that it's a contemporary holiday tradition, and one of which I heartily approve.  A celebration of the absurd.  Since I can hear you now saying, "When pigs fly," I thought I'd arrange that on your behalf.  Meet Chrysaor, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.  You may note a certain family resemblance.  Pegasus gets all the attention.  T-shirts, album covers, plushies.  But Chrysaor also sprung from Medusa's beheaded body. 

"Not a thing to wear," you say.  I've taken care of that too.  If you'll so kindly reach into the box.

The note dipped twice toward said box, as though impatient that I comply. 

"Don't do it," Jesus said.  He seemed to have recovered some of his composure now.  "An ugly sweater party...it's not worth the risk."

My lips quirked up at that.  Jesus didn't do ugly.  He didn't do tasteless or tacky.  He despaired of me and the chili-pepper lights I had strung in my office for fun and because he severely needed to lighten up.

I braced myself for whatever might come and reached into the box.  Something grabbed at my hand and the world seemed to twist around me. My stomach wrung itself out and my chest compressed like someone was using it as a springboard.  I wasn't sure whether I gasped or screamed.  I was sure my heart skipped several beats.  My whole body seemed to miss...whatever it was supposed to be doing.  

And then I landed, world still whirling like I'd spun too fast for too long.  When it started to settle, I was handed a drink and Hermes's grinning face appeared before me.  Along with the rest of him. 

"I'm so glad you could join us!" he said, all hail-fellow-well-met.

I didn't know where I was.  A loft somewhere, lit up for Christmas like the electric bill was no issue.  White lights, red ribbons, silver and gold decor.  Like something out of a magazine.  And the guests...

Jesus appeared right beside me, looking stunned and horrified all at once.  But perfect, as always.  No ugly sweater for him.  I looked down at myself.  Chrysaor now graced the ugliest fuzzy blue sweater I'd ever seen, rearing like a horse...or his sibling Pegasus.  He was still in his shimmering white but for a Santa hat that now sat jauntily atop his head. 

"Well," Hermes said at the sight of Jesus, standing there bemused.  "A plus one.  I hadn't planned for that.  I'll have to see what we can find for you."

Jesus grabbed my drink and knocked it back, grimacing when he realized it was eggnog, probably counting the calories.  I don't think he had to worry.  As far as I was concerned, medicinal calories didn't count, and he was going to need more before the night was through. 

"What's all this?" he asked once he'd regained his voice.

"A Christmas miracle," Hermes said, snapping his fingers. 

In an instant, Jesus's perfectly ironed button-up with the snazzy sharp creases had been replaced by Space Invaders-shaped white splotches on a field of holly-green with two reindeer in the foreground playing ping pong.  What ping pong had to do with the holidays and how on Earth the deer were holding the paddles was entirely unclear.  Jesus's eyes rolled back into his head at the sight of himself, and I had to practically carry him to a fainting couch, which, of course, the elegant room had not far from the tree and the grand piano.

"Thanks," I said wryly.  "Now I'm going to have to give him the holiday bonus to end all holiday bonuses.  Large enough to cover his therapy bill."

Hermes showed his Cheshire cat grin and before I could even think to slap it off his face, told me, "The check's already in the mail."

And then my friends closed in on me with good cheer and much of it, enough that I forgot to be cross and by the end of the evening, Jesus forgot even his own name.  I'd remind him of it tomorrow and tease him with the pictures I'd taken on my cell phone but would never post.

I supposed a new tradition was born. 

I tried not to be secretly thrilled. 

I failed miserably.

_______________________

Bio:

Lucienne Diver writes the Latter-Day Olympians urban fantasy series for Samhain, featuring Greek mythology and a heroine who can, quite literally, stop men in their tracks.  Long and Short Reviews gave the first in the series her favorite pull-quote of all times, "Bad Blood is a delightful urban fantasy, a clever mix of Janet Evanovich and Rick Riordan.”  Sequels: Crazy in the Blood, Rise of the Blood and Battle for the Blood.  She also writes the popular Vamped young adult series (think Clueless meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer). Her short stories have been featured in the Strip-Mauled and Fangs for the Mammaries anthologies edited by Esther Friesner (Baen Books), and the Kicking It anthology edited by Faith Hunter and Kalayna Price (Roc).  Her essay “Abuse” appeared in Dear Bully: 70 Authors Tell Their Stories (HarperTeen).

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Website: http://www.luciennediver.com

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Blog: http://luciennediver.wordpress.com

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BAD BLOOD
Latter-Day Olympians, Book 1

The gods play…and mortals pay.

Tori Karacis’s family line may trace back to a drunken liaison between the god Pan and one of the immortal gorgons. Or…maybe it’s just coincidence that her glance can, literally, stop men in their tracks. While her fear of heights kept her out of the family aerobatic troupe, her extreme nosiness fits right in with her uncle’s P.I. business.

Except he’s disappeared on an Odyssean journey to find himself. Muddling through on her own, she’s reduced to hunting (not stalking, because that would just be weird) brass-bra’d Hollywood agent Circe Holland to deliver a message…only to witness her murder by what looks like the Creature from the Black Lagoon.

Suddenly, all of her family’s tall tales seem believable, especially when Apollo—the Apollo, who’s now hiding out among humans as an adult film star—appears in her office, looking to hire her. She knows the drill: canoodling with gods never works out well for humans, but she’s irresistibly drawn to him. Maybe it’s her genes. Maybe not.

Given her conflicted feelings for one hot and hardened cop, it’s a toss-up which will kill her quickest. The danger at her door…or her love life.

Warning: Contains pot-boiling passion between a heroine who may—or may not—be a descendant of Medusa, and a hot god and a hunky cop with the…equipment…to handle her, even on her worst bad-hair day. Beware of killer kisses, trickster gods and bearded grandmothers Who Know Everything.


CRAZY IN THE BLOOD
Latter-Day Olympians, Book 2

Hell on Earth. It’s not just an expression anymore.

It’s an ill wind that carries bad news, and Tori’s just had a double load of it blow through her door.

Just a few weeks after she prevented some rogue gods from blowing L.A. into the ocean, more dead bodies are turning up near the leftover crater. Bodies that have been shredded by something too big to be…shall we say, of this world? Worse, Uncle Christos has disappeared after stumbling onto a deadly cult masquerading as the Back to Earth movement.

The connection: Dionysus. Yes, that Dionysus. He’s resurrected his bloody fertility rite, complete with frenzied female groupies who tear men limb from limb. And he’s lured Demeter, goddess of the harvest, over to his side by finding a way to get her daughter away from Hades for good.

Predictably, Hades isn’t about to let her go without a fight. Unless Tori finds a way to bring her back, he’ll abandon the gates of Tartarus. At which time all hell will, literally, break loose.

Between saving the world, the woman, the cultists and her crazy uncle, Tori’s giving up on getting to the beach before all the good spots are taken.

Warning: The wine country is going through a heat wave of epic proportions, and it's not all about the weather. Beware steamy gods with seduction on their minds or brimstone in their blood.

The Latter-Day Olympians series continues with RISE OF THE BLOOD and BATTLE FOR THE BLOOD, all from Samhain.

Holiday Party - Day 8

So, for some reason this didn’t post on time, so it’s a bit late. So after a great week 1, we're now on to week 2 of the Holiday Party, but for today, I wanted to do something a little different.  I wanted to do a throwback  and share some of the first Christmas stories I ever reviewed. I reviewed the first two back in 2013, and so without further ado...

First up is Santa’s Slay by Stephanie Burke.

4 stars

Fair warning to all: This is not the book to read if you're just dipping your toes into BDSM books. This has hardcore sadism and masochism, so if that's not your cup of tea, you should skip this book. If, however, you're looking for a funny, interesting read about the REAL, sadistic Jack Frost, then this is for you.

Jack was simply ah-maz-ing! He was hysterical and sexy all at the same time (which isn't as easy as it sounds). And in case I haven't made it clear, he's extremely sadistic. He gets off on causing pain and terrifying others, which made him seem like a bastard for the first part of the book, but you see bits of his soft side with Peter, which just made me fall in love even more with him. As for Peter, he's an inquisitive reporter who is finally getting his chance to embrace his masochistic submissive side and meet the Master meant to tame him. Peter was a nice counter to Jack, as he didn't cower in fear from Jack and wasn't afraid to push him and share his honest opinions and thoughts. And as a secondary character, Chris Cringle was pretty funny as well, and I would love to see him get his own book (who cares if he has a wife? A husband would be so much better).

I loved the world building in this book. Santa isn't the big ole jolly gift giver, but the sexy elf corporate taking over the world and beating all the other Holidays. Jack Frost isn't some cute and cuddly little boy or the mischief maker looking to take over as Santa. Here, he's Santa's dangerous, sexy, and sadistic bodyguard and High Inquisitor of the Elementals. Oh, and he's the head of Santa's Slay, highly trained killer elves. Yes, killer elves. And Jack's the deadliest of all. Oh, and the North Pole isn't a place, it's a corporation making millions off toy making. There was a lot of detail interwoven into this story, which is unusual for a short story, but I absolutely loved it. I loved the different take on Santa and Christmas and would love to see more written in this world.

And the sex? SMOKING HOT! There's lots of sex and kink, which I loved. And there's also a pretty hot bath scene... all I'll say is Peter is one lucky guy.

I would definitely recommend this book, as it's a very interesting and unique (kinky) take on Christmas and the usual characters.

Secondly, A Very Holland Christmas by Toni Griffin.

3 stars

I greatly enjoyed the Holland Brothers series and I was bummed when it ended, so when I heard that there was going to be a Christmas story about them, I was ecstatic.

Christmas is a time for family and friends. Catch up with the Holland Brothers and their mates as they race to get everything ready for their second Christmas together.

This is a cute little Christmas story and a nice little sequel to the series. It starts right in on Christmas Eve, with everyone in the family preparing for their second Christmas together. There is no background or recap and it took me a minute to remember everything in the previous books. One of the things I liked best was that it also provides some answers to previous unanswered questions and final closure for some. It is a bit of a leap after some of the books so it also provides a glimpse into the future of all the Hollands.

I would definitely recommend this to all those who loved the Holland Brothers series and if you haven't read the series already, you should read it before reading this story in order to fully understand what's going on.

Holiday Party - Brynn Myers

My next guest is a Florida native like me, who I got to meet at Coastal Magic this year. She's an absolute joy to know, and I can't wait for y'all to meet her. Here's Brynn Myers!

What the holidays mean to me…

When I was a little girl, my family went all out to make sure Christmas was special. There was one year in particular that stands out as the most unique. I was about five or six, it was Christmas Eve and we were at my grandparents’ house visiting. I heard a loud thump on the roof and was alarmed but curious since they’d all been saying Santa was coming. Shortly thereafter, there was a knock at the door. When my grandfather opened it, there stood Santa Claus with a huge bag overflowing with toys tossed over his shoulder. My Nana said I stood there dumbfounded for a few moments until he walked into the living room. He called me by name and sat down, taking great care to make a big ordeal of each present as he pulled them out of the bag. It was incredibly special and I was always grateful for that wondrous gift. Years later I found out it was a neighbor who came that night, but to this day, I still have no idea how he managed to make the noises on the roof when he was inside.

As I grew up and began to “figure things out” my parents pushed for me to continue to make it special for my sister who is eight years younger than me. My Dad said, “As long as you believe, then Santa will continue to bring something special. I’m forty-four and I still believe (huge cheeky grin) and he still comes! WHOOHOO!

Christmas for me is about love and family. Time is precious and while it may seem as though we have all the time in the world, it’s really only a blip in the span of our lifetime. It’s important to make sure we tell the ones we love how much we care about them and to mend fences around those relationships that need extra tending. I lost my grandparents a few years ago and to this day I struggle to find my peace with their absence, especially around this time of year. Up until their passing, I only missed one Christmas with them. My favorite memory is sitting on the floor just below the couch they’d sit on. My grandfather in his robe, Swiss Army knife at the ready for any of those pesky to open gifts, my Nana smiling just watching all the festivities. Every year it was the same, but I loved the consistency and normalcy of it all.

These days my husband and daughter and I try to find one special thing we’ll do that will stick with her like those memories stuck with me. I get emotional taking out all the decorations but get it together soon after because I can hear my Nana whispering in my ear how it’s now my responsibility to make it special for my little girl. My angel is ten this year and while she still believes in Santa and the magic of the holiday, I never want her to lose that sense of wonder and awe.

I wish everyone a blessed holiday because no matter what holiday you celebrate or whatever religion you follow, everyone deserves to feel the peace, love, and happiness of the season!

Much Love,

Brynn

Author Bio:

Brynn Myers is an urban fantasy/paranormal romance author. After considering writing a hobby for years, she finally turned her passion and talent into a career. She came into the paranormal genre later than most but has always loved fairy-tales and all things magical. Using that love, she creates charmed worlds by writing stories involving passionate, strong willed characters with something to discover.

Brynn lives with her family in the Brevard County, Florida area.

The Echoed Life of Jorja Graham is due to be released shortly after the first of the year. So if you haven’t yet had a chance to read book one The Life & Death of Jorja Graham, here’s your chance.

The top three people who leave a comment under this post will each win an e-copy of LDJG. Good Luck! Also, don't forget to enter the grand prize giveaway as well!

Goodreads     |      Buy Link

Website

Twitter: @BrynnMyers

Facebook: BrynnMyersAuthor

Email: authorbrynnmyers@yahoo.com

Holiday Party - Kindle Alexander

This next author is actually a duo power-writing team who I met at RainbowCon earlier this year. I am pleased to introduce the wonder-couple, Kindle Alexander!

First, we’d like to thank Emily for inviting us to participate. And now, for your enjoyment, a deleted bonus scene from Always by Kindle Alexander. Also, don't forget to enter the grand prize giveaway as well (see who's paying attention...).

The Christmas lights twinkled as Kane stepped inside Avery’s apartment. He worked at loosening the knot of his tie before sliding out of his suit jacket. Avery was already inside. He’d turned on the Christmas music and was moving much faster than the exhausted man he’d claimed to be on their ride home from midnight mass. In less than a minute, Avery had left a trail of clothes leading down the hall and he could hear him in the bedroom singing Silver Bells at the top of his lungs.  He shook his head and made his way to through the apartment. Kane dropped down in a plush living room chair and just stared at the sparkling Christmas tree. The lights were beautiful and he couldn’t look away.  It was the first tree he’d help put up in fifteen years. And this was the first Christmas in just about that long that he’d been to church on Christmas Eve.  Actually this was the first time in a long time that he even wanted to celebrate Christmas. Sure he had done a small something in the past years at the restaurant with Paulie and the guys, but this was different. Being here with Avery felt so right. The comforting notion of being truly at home embraced him and he just knew this was where he belonged. Kane dropped his head back on the chair, his eyes stayed focus on the twinkling lights adoring the large fragrant Douglas Fir. He toed off his shoes, making himself comfortable, his gaze still lingering on the bright blinking lights.

“What are you doing?” Avery asked rounding the corner, effectively pulling him from his thoughts. He looked up to see Avery had wasted no time in making himself comfortable. He was dressed in a bath robe tied loosely at his waist. He looked sexy and put together even in his robe. Avery had a huge smile on his face and was waving Kane’s favorite robe in front of him and that simple little action made Kane smile. Avery was always thinking about him. He continued to watch Avery as he drew closer. That one stray piece of hair fell across Avery’s forehead, proving he had hurried to get back out here to him. That knowledge touched his heart. God he loved Avery.   

“What are you doing?” Kane countered, not moving a muscle as Avery moved closer.

“It’s Christmas morning. We have presents to unwrap,” Avery said, now straddling Kane’s legs as he dropped the robe he was holding on the arm of the chair and pulled the loosened tie from his collar. Avery tossed the tie to the side and started unbuttoning his clothes. “You’ll be more comfortable if we get you out of your dress clothes,” Avery murmured, his amber eyes twinkling with mischief.   

“It’s one o’clock in the morning. I don’t think this counts as actual morning,”

“I’m pretty sure it does.  And besides it’s our first Christmas together. Now help me get you undressed,” Avery said, pushing his shirt off his shoulders. Avery’s weight shifted on his lap. He felt his belt being tugged free and heard the hiss of his zipper being slid open.  Avery stood and he lifted his hips so Avery could help him out of his slacks. Avery dropped to his knees in front of him and slid his socks off his feet before standing and straddling his thighs again.

“Now doesn’t that feel better?”  Avery asked trailing a finger along his exposed collar bone.  

“Yeah, but you being on my lap feels even better.” He rested his hands on Avery’s waist and arched his hips forward, grinding them against Avery. He lifted his face hoping for a kiss and it didn’t take long for Avery to figure out exactly what he wanted. Avery’s lips were firm and demanding as they pressed against his. He slid his tongue along the seam of Avery’s lips, tasting him before pushing inside. Avery deepened the kiss, their tongues collided in a heated passion. He held tightly to Avery as they kissed, losing himself in the man he loved.

Avery slowly ended the kiss and pulled back.     

“I’ve got something for you,” Avery said, excitement rang in his voice as he got to his feet. Kane watched him make his way across the room and pull a brightly wrapped box from under the Christmas tree. He’d bought something for Avery too. He stood, finding his jacket. He removed the small gold covered box from the pocket. The wind howled outside the window, big flakes of snow were just beginning to fall. They were going to have a white Christmas after all.

Their first Christmas together was already perfect, just being here with Avery made it that way. He reached for the robe Avery had left on the chair.  His heart beat rapidly against his chest. He’d never celebrated Christmas with someone he felt such a connection with, ever. What he and Avery shared was special. Yeah, he and Brian had been together for a few years but they hadn’t done Christmas, not like this.  Brian was usually away with his job and his ex blamed the time difference when hours passed and he didn’t call.

“Babe, what’re you thinking about? You look like you’re a million miles away.” Avery’s soft voice drew his attention back. He glanced up. Avery stood in front of him holding a beautifully wrapped gift.

“I was just thinking about how blessed I am to have you in my life.” He answered truthfully and opened his arms, wanting Avery back in his lap.

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, too,” Avery said moving to straddle him. He tilted his head and quickly pressed a kiss to Avery’s lips as he settled in place.

“Merry Christmas, Avery.” His voice was almost a whisper. The pressure built in his chest as he offered his lover the slender box. “I hope you like it. I thought about you when I saw it.” He was a little nervous about his gift. Avery had everything, so it was hard to know exactly what to get him, but lately he had been complaining about his watch losing time. Avery’s fingers worked the ribbon and the paper, tossing it to the floor as he ripped into the present, just like a kid on Christmas morning. Avery’s face lit up as he flipped open the lid and removed the beautiful watch.   

“I love it, Kane! I looked at this very one the other day. How…” He stopped suddenly as he flipped the watch over in his hands. Kane knew exactly when he read the inscription and his heart skipped a beat. “Always.” Avery said softly and looked up at him. He saw the emotion fill Avery’s eyes as he leaned in and captured his mouth in a tender kiss. “Thank you, babe. It’s perfect.”

          

          “Always… won’t be long enough.” He didn’t know why he was explaining, he wasn’t good at the gift buying or giving thing, but he wanted Avery to know he meant what he had engraved on the back of that watch. “You wrote that in your first note to me. It stuck with me. I wanted something to remind you how much I love you every time you look at it.”

“Kane, no one has ever given me anything that means as much to me as this.” Avery lifted his arm and handed him the watch. “Will you?”    

“It looks good on you.” He smiled up at Avery after fastening the watch around his wrist.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Avery agreed and picked up his gift and handed it to him. “Merry Christmas, Kane.”  

Kane carefully unwrapped the gift, laying the paper on table next to them. When he opened the box his heart skipped a beat. Emotion filled him as he saw Avery’s present, his heart filled with love. This man knew him so well. “Oh, Avery, it’s perfect.” He couldn’t believe Avery had given him a Bible. This gift meant so much more to him than he could explain, so he wouldn’t even try. He’d never bought himself one in all those years after leaving his parents’ home. How could Avery know? He took the Bible out of the box and ran his finger across the leather binding, smiling as he noticed his name embossed into the front cover. “Thank you, Avery.” After running his finger across his name for a third time he sat the Bible on the table next to them and slid his fingers through Avery’s hair. He stared into his lover’s eyes. His breath caught in his throat and he was completely overwhelmed with all the love he saw reflected in their depths. He wanted Avery, needed to show him how much he loved him. Kane firmly cupped the back of Avery’s head and pulled him down for a kiss.

  

Blurb:

Born to a prestigious political family, Avery Adams plays as hard as he works. The gorgeous, charismatic attorney is used to getting what he wants, even the frequent one-night stands that earn him his well-deserved playboy reputation. When some of the most prominent men in politics suggest he run for senate, Avery decides the time has come to follow in his grandfather's footsteps. With a strategy in place and the campaign wheels rolling, Avery is ready to jump on the legislative fast track, full steam ahead. But no amount of planning prepares him for the handsome, uptight restaurateur who might derail his political future.

Easy isn't even in the top thousand words to describe Kane Dalton's life after his father, a devout Southern Baptist minister, kicks him out of the family home for questioning his sexual orientation. Despite all the rotten tomatoes life throws his way, Kane makes something of himself. Between owning a thriving upscale Italian restaurant in the heart of downtown Minneapolis and managing his long-term boyfriend, his plate is full. He struggles to get past the teachings of his childhood to fully accept his sexuality and rid himself of the doubts brought on by his religious upbringing. The last thing he needs is the yummy, sophisticated, blond-haired distraction sitting at table thirty-four.

Buy Links: 

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Author Bio:  

Best Selling, and newly award winning Author Kindle Alexander is an innovative writer, and a genre-crosser who writes classic fantasy, romance, suspense, and erotica. It’s always a surprise to see what’s coming next! Happily married with too many children, and dogs, living in the suburbs of Dallas.

Usually, I try for funny. Humor is a major part of my life – I love to laugh, and it seems to be the thing I do in most situations – regardless of the situation, but jokes are a tricky deal… I don’t want to offend anyone and jokes tend to offend. So instead I’m going to tell you about Kindle.

I tragically lost my sixteen year old daughter to a drunk driver. She had just been at home, it was early in the night and I heard the accident happen. I’ll never forget that moment. The sirens were immediate and something inside me just knew. I left my house, drove straight to the accident on nothing more than instinct. I got to be there when my little girl died – weirdly, I consider that a true gift from above. She didn’t have to be alone.

That time in my life was terrible. It’s everything you think, times about a billion. I love that kid. I loved being her mother and I loved watching her grow into this incredibly beautiful person, both inside and out. She was such a gift to me. To have it all ripped away so suddenly broke me.

Her name was Kindle. Honest to goodness – it was her name and she died a few weeks before Amazon released their brand new Kindle ereader. She had no idea it was coming out and she would have finally gotten her name on something! Try finding a ruler with the name Kindle on it.. it never happened.

Through the course of that crippling event I was lucky enough to meet my writing partner. I would have never gotten through those dark days without her unwavering support and guidance. There wasn’t a time she wasn’t there for me. For the first time I used the hand offered. I know without question I wouldn’t be here today without her. It takes a special person to come stand beside someone at a time like that. I will love her forever. I could go on and on about both of them, but I won’t and now you know a little more About Me.

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