The festivities for The Artist's Masquerade continue today at Renee Stevens's blog where I'm being interviewed. Read the interview here, and don't forget to enter the blog tour giveaway!
​

As the first-born son of the Duke of Tournai and cousin to the prince, Cathal has always tried to fulfill his duty to family and country, including following through with an arranged marriage to Velia, cousin to the emperor of Ardunn. But it’s Velia’s companion, Flavia, who fascinates Cathal. Cathal doesn’t know that Flavia is really Flavian, a man masquerading as a woman to escape Ardunn, a restrictive place in which Flavian’s preference for men is forbidden.

Even when Cathal discovers Flavian’s true gender, he cannot fight his attraction to him. Flavian is intrigued by Cathal, but Cathal is still betrothed to Velia, and Flavian worries Cathal is more taken with his feminine illusion than the man beneath it. While both men battle their longings for each other, spies from Ardunn infiltrate the capital, attempting to uncover Tournai’s weaknesses. They are also searching for Flavian, who possesses a magical Talent that allows him to see the truth of a person just by painting their portrait—a skill invaluable to Ardunn’s emperor.

Preorder The Artist's Masquerade:
Dreamspinner Press ebook
Dreamspinner Press paperback
Amazon
AllRomance
Kobo

The Artist's Masquerade will be out in the world one week from today! I'm excited - and a bit nervous already. 

Today I'm talking about The Artist's Masquerade and Cathal at Garrett Leigh's blog. Stop by and read the post. And don't forget to enter the giveaway below.

As the first-born son of the Duke of Tournai and cousin to the prince, Cathal has always tried to fulfill his duty to family and country, including following through with an arranged marriage to Velia, cousin to the emperor of Ardunn. But it’s Velia’s companion, Flavia, who fascinates Cathal. Cathal doesn’t know that Flavia is really Flavian, a man masquerading as a woman to escape Ardunn, a restrictive place in which Flavian’s preference for men is forbidden.
Even when Cathal discovers Flavian’s true gender, he cannot fight his attraction to him. Flavian is intrigued by Cathal, but Cathal is still betrothed to Velia, and Flavian worries Cathal is more taken with his feminine illusion than the man beneath it. While both men battle their longings for each other, spies from Ardunn infiltrate the capital, attempting to uncover Tournai’s weaknesses. They are also searching for Flavian, who possesses a magical Talent that allows him to see the truth of a person just by painting their portrait—a skill invaluable to Ardunn’s emperor.

Preorder The Artist's Masquerade:

Dreamspinner Press ebook
Dreamspinner Press paperback
Amazon
AllRomance
Kobo

And don't forget The Prince's Consort giveaway on Goodreads! Today is the last day to enter. You don't want to miss out!

The Artist's Masquerade will be out on the 21st, eight days from now, and today begins the blog tour celebrating its release. I'll be at various blogs over the next ten days with posts about the book, excerpts, and even an interview. And there's a giveaway! I'm giving away a signed paperback copy of The Prince's Consort, the first book in the Chronicles of Tournai series. (The paperback is for US winners only. If the winner is international, they'll receive an ebook). There will also be a separate giveaway on the Dreamspinner Press blog on release day, so watch out for that too.

The tour kicks off today with a stop at Thianna Durston's blog for her Coming Soon Sunday feature where I'm sharing an excerpt. Check it out here.

As the first-born son of the Duke of Tournai and cousin to the prince, Cathal has always tried to fulfill his duty to family and country, including following through with an arranged marriage to Velia, cousin to the emperor of Ardunn. But it’s Velia’s companion, Flavia, who fascinates Cathal. Cathal doesn’t know that Flavia is really Flavian, a man masquerading as a woman to escape Ardunn, a restrictive place in which Flavian’s preference for men is forbidden.

Even when Cathal discovers Flavian’s true gender, he cannot fight his attraction to him. Flavian is intrigued by Cathal, but Cathal is still betrothed to Velia, and Flavian worries Cathal is more taken with his feminine illusion than the man beneath it. While both men battle their longings for each other, spies from Ardunn infiltrate the capital, attempting to uncover Tournai’s weaknesses. They are also searching for Flavian, who possesses a magical Talent that allows him to see the truth of a person just by painting their portrait—a skill invaluable to Ardunn’s emperor.

Preorder The Artist's Masquerade:
Dreamspinner Press ebook
Dreamspinner Press paperback
Amazon
AllRomance
Kobo

December 13th: Thianna Durston
December 14th: Garrett Leigh
December 15th: Renee Stevens
December 16th: Nicki J. Markus/Asta Idonea
December 17th: CoP
December 18th: Anna Butler, Anne Barwell
December 19th: Aisling Mancy
December 20th: Thianna Durston
December 21st: Dreamspinner Press blog, Shae Connor, Queer SciFi
December 22nd: Cate Ashwood, Charlie Cochet's Purple Rose Teahouse
December 23rd: House Millar, Lex Chase

Christmas is two weeks from today! I'm not entirely sure how that happened - I feel as if I blinked and missed weeks, and I had promised myself I would take the time to enjoy the season too. *Sigh* And if Christmas is two weeks away, The Artist's Masquerade will be out in the world in less than two weeks! I'm very excited for you to get to know Cathal and Flavian. If you'd like to preorder from Dreamspinner (or buy The Prince's Consort), they're having a 25% off sale, but it ends today, so hurry! You can find my books at Dreamspinner here. Also I'll be doing a blog tour for The Artist's Masquerade which will begin on Sunday the 13th. I'll post soon to give you the schedule of where I'll be when and information about the giveaway, so stay tuned for that.

And for even more exciting news, I've signed a contract with Dreamspinner for the third book of the Chronicles of Tournai, The Scholar's Heart, which is Etan and Tristan's story. If you read The Prince's Consort, you probably knew this story was coming, Some of you assumed it would be coming sooner, but Etan and Tristan had to wait a while, and Cathal and Flavian demanded their story first. I hope you'll find it worth the wait.

​So since over the next couple of weeks I'll be bombarding you with promo for The Artist's Masquerade, how about something unrelated first? You know by now that I enjoy baking very much, and the holidays are a great time for baking sweet treats to share. Even Santa gets into the act, or at least my Santa baker tree ornament does. (He's not the only food-related ornament on my tree either. I have a little copper colander and a bundt pan and a toaster, among others. They are also not the strangest ornaments on my tree!) So I thought I would share a favorite holiday cookie recipe with you. I shared another one for struffoli on the Dreamspinner blog in early November, when no one was thinking of the holidays, but you can find it here if you'd like to check it out now. Struffoli are a traditional Southern Italian dessert at the holidays, and they're delicious and easy to make. 

Today I'm going to share another Italian cookie recipe for cranberry chocolate biscotti, though this one isn't a family recipe. I'm actually not sure where I got the recipe originally, but I've been making it for years. I always make them at the holidays because the cranberry/chocolate combination seems holiday festive to me, but you can make them other times of the year too.

Here's the recipe:

2 3/4 cups all purpose flour
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1/3 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 teaspoon almond extract
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 large eggs

Preheat oven to 350.

Combine flour and the next five ingredients in a large bowl.  Combine oil, extracts and eggs.  Add to the four mixture, stirring until well-blended (dough will be dry and crumbly).  Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface; knead lightly 7 to 8 times.  Divide the dough in half.  Shape each portion into an 8 inch long roll.  Place rolls 6 inches apart on a baking sheet coated with cooking spray; flatten each roll to 1 inch thickness.

Bake at 350 for 35 minutes.  Remove rolls from baking sheet, cool 10 minutes on a wire rack.  Cut each roll diagonally into 15 (1/2 inch) slices.  Place the slices cut sides down on a baking sheet.  Reduce oven temperature to 325 and bake for 10 minutes.  Turn the cookies over, bake for an additional 10 minutes (cookies will be slightly soft in the center but will harden as they cool).  Remove from baking sheet and cool completely on a wire rack.

The recipe makes about 36 cookies. It's a bit of a process, but the results are delicious, and they make great dessert or snacks or something to dunk in your hot beverage of choice.

Now that you have a cookie and a hot beverage, how about a few more holiday reads? Just so you have something to curl up with while you eat your cookies. Because what's better than hot chocolate, Christmas cookies, and a holiday romance while you sit by the tree?

What Happens at Christmas by Jay Northcote - A sweet, fun friends to lovers romance with snowed in trope and fake boyfriends. Her novella Cold Feet is a good holiday read too.

When Love Flue In by Lillian Francis - A sweet, sexy holiday romance between a newly divorced man and the chimney sweep he's had a crush on for years. Definitely has the warm fuzzy holiday feel.

A Fortunate Blizzard by LC Chase - Another snowed in story (such a great trope!). I really enjoyed this, though it made me cry before it got to the wonderful HEA.

Do you bake around the holidays? Even if you don't, what are your favorite holiday treats?

Today fellow Dreamspinner Press author Asta Idonea is here with her new holiday story, Northern Lights.

Title: Northern Lights
Author: Asta Idonea
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: 1 December 2015
Genre: Short Story / Contemporary / Holiday-Themed
​Pages: 25

A dream romantic vacation to Iceland to see the Northern Lights turns into a nightmare when James’s workaholic boyfriend, Richard, again insists on putting his work first. After a call from Richard’s office, an argument ends with the couple splitting up for good. Not only has Richard left James, he’s left him abandoned to explore the park alone, where James quickly gets lost. But just when things seem darkest, the Solstice works its magic, and James finds the guiding light he needs. Or it finds him.

Buy the book: Dreamspinner Press / Amazon US / Amazon UK / ARe

“NO. NO, Bob, listen to me. Bob, listen to me. Yes. No. Yes. Bob. Bob. Calm down.” 
I turn off the tap, shake my hands over the sink, and reach for towel as I listen to the one-sided conversation drifting through from the next room. I don’t really know why I’m surprised. It’s not as if this hasn’t happened a hundred times before. Richard and I will make plans, and then that damn phone of his will vibrate, emitting the inane, grimace-inducing ringtone I’ve never been able to stand, and everything will unravel. 
Richard and I met at a Christmas party five years ago, just before he started his job at Robert Preston & Associates. To date, that was the one and only Christmas we’ve managed to spend together. Every year since, something work-related has called him away. He does his best to make it home for dinner on my birthday, which falls during the holidays, but even that is touch-and-go. Some years I’ve ended up celebrating alone, surrounded by fast-cooling, half-eaten slices of pizza and a pile of empty beer cans. 
For months I’ve been begging him for this overseas trip. We’ve been going through a tough patch, and I thought spending the holidays together—without interruptions, just the two of us—would go a long way toward healing the rift. I’d held out hope that the distances involved would grant us some measure of security, that the fact that we were out of the country would make Bob think twice before dialing. But it appears I was wrong.

​Listen to an Audio Excerpt here.

About Asta Idonea:

Asta Idonea (aka Nicki J Markus) was born in England, but now lives in Adelaide, South Australia. She has loved both reading and writing from a young age and is also a keen linguist, having studied several foreign languages. 
Asta launched her writing career in 2011 and divides her efforts not only between MM and mainstream works but also between traditional and indie publishing. Her works span the genres, from paranormal to historical and from contemporary to fantasy. It just depends what story and which characters spring into her mind!
As a day job, Asta works as a freelance editor and proofreader, and in her spare time she enjoys music, theater, cinema, photography, and sketching. She also loves history, folklore and mythology, pen-palling, and travel; all of which have provided plenty of inspiration for her writing.

Website / Twitter / Facebook / Goodreads

Today fellow Dreamspinner Press author Vicktor Alexander is visiting on his blog tour for The Servant Duchess of Whitcomb, the second book in The Scandalous Whispers of the Remmington Realm series. I really enjoyed the first book in the series, Groom of Convenience, and I'm looking forward to reading The Servant Duchess of Whitcomb.

Welcome, Vicktor!

What book do you wish you could have written?
Hhmm… Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. It’s an AMAZING story. Gritty, raw, heartbreaking. The words plunge their hands into your chest and rip out your heart and leave you forever changed. I think the reason I can read Amy Lane even on my worse days (although I will never read Living Promises again because it just hits too close to home) is because I started reading ZNH when I was in middle school.

How important are names to you (in your books)? Do you choose names based on liking the way it sounds or meaning? How do you choose your names?
Names are extremely important to me. Not just in my books but in general. Because in Judaism a name is a definition of a person-it describes their personality and is an interpretation of their traits. So when I choose a name for a character I tend to choose a name that means something. For example: Orley means: (Hebrew language) God is my light. And Chester means: (Latin) Fortified place.
Many times when I choose a name I choose a name I use a name generator for the first MCs name and then I find out what it means. Then after the character tells me all about his personality, his flaws, and his needs, I go and find a name that means the very thing that he needs. For Orley I knew he needed a shelter, someplace he could be safe. A haven. Even though he was strong, he needed to know that his emotions could be protected. So I went to Google and typed in: “What male name means protected city?” And came up with the name Chester after scrolling through lots of different names and sites.
Sometimes I do choose names based on liking the way they sound, sometimes I make them up, but often I choose them based on their meaning.

Were you already a great writer? Have you always enjoyed writing? How long have you been writing?
LOL. I don’t consider myself a great writer. I just consider myself a writer. I strive to be a great writer. It’s a goal that I continuously hope to achieve every single day. I’ve always enjoyed writing. Ever since I was 10 years old and I first entertained my family in the car with A Tale Of The Doll’s Eyes, a YA horror novel, so for 22 years.

Which character, from any of your books, do you consider your greatest work?
I honestly think it’s a tie between Chester Boland and Madame Marie-Etienne Nitot. Chester because he exists in a world where essentially him rising above his station should have been impossible. He embraces the fact that he loves to wear dresses, he endures attacks, betrayals, heartbreak, angst, hell, racism, and the fact that being Tafrican or black in the era that he lives, he could have been sold into slavery in the Colonies had the Slave Trade not been abolished. As for Madame Marie-Etienne Nitot, he is one of my greatest works because of all of the intricate work and research that went into developing his backstory. He endures scandal, heartbreak, loss, hell, and is-in my mind-the true definition of a feminist.
Then again, I think all of my characters are great and I have a truly hard time choosing which is greater than the others, because Tyler Simpston from Daddy’s Boy is great as well. He really went through hell and was all the better for it. And so was Shane Occena from Raising Shawna.

What hobbies do you enjoy?
I enjoy reading, listening to music, singing, dancing, the theater, the opera, the symphony, my daughter recently taught me to rediscover my love of painting and sketching, watching movies, watching television, I’m really big into sports, cooking, and traveling.
​

​Orley Garrick is known throughout Angland not only as the man with two dukedoms but also as the hero who survived a brutal kidnapping at the hands of Nafoleon’s army, never once betraying the secrets of His Majesty. Still haunted by his memories, Orley pushes his crippled body to dangerous limits, all in an attempt to run from the demons of his past.
 
Until he meets Chester Boland, a maid in his friend’s household. Orley is besieged by desire for this gorgeous male woman, and by a connection he cannot ignore. But there are those within the Remmington Realm who take issue with the Duke’s choice—especially given Chester’s Tafrican lineage.
 
Having stared death in the face and won, Orley proposes they steal away and elope. However, before they can begin their new life, they uncover dangerous secrets that go deeper than they could ever imagine—involving those they trust the most.
 
Orley and Chester must discover exactly how deep these secrets run before their enemies make sure Chester is removed from Orley’s arms… forever.

Buy the book: Dreamspinner ebook| Dreamspinner paperbook| ARe| Kobo| Apple iTunes| Amazon

THE SHARP retort of gunfire exploded around Orley Garrick, Duke of Whitcomb, and he ducked, trying to avoid the debris and the bodies of fallen soldiers around him as he surged forward. The smoke from the countless rifles burned his eyes as he desperately looked for the person who had caught his eye. He heard the cries of the dying calling out to him as he rode his horse farther into the thick of battle. Using his sword, he cut down an enemy soldier who raced toward him, mouth open as he let out a battle cry. Orley closed his eyes against the spray of blood across his face and blocked out the sound of the man’s death gurgle as he fell to the ground beneath his own horse.

Orley raced on toward the figure in white who didn’t belong on the battlefield. He called out a warning, telling the woman to be careful, because there was no way a man would be on a battlefield wearing a long, flowing white chemise, free of dust and bloodstain, appearing almost angelic among the crowd of soldiers. The woman didn’t stop. Instead she walked straight toward the commander of the enemy soldiers, and fear filled Orley. He wasn’t sure why; he didn’t know the woman, and yet he could not let anything happen to her.

At that moment, the woman turned to look at him, and Orley gasped when he realized the woman in front of him was not female as he’d suspected but male. Why in the world was a lady on the battlefield?

“You should not be here!” he yelled, trying to warn the male, but just as he got close enough to lift the woman onto the back of his horse, an enemy soldier plunged his sword through the woman’s back and out through his chest. Orley watched helplessly as the woman’s eyes widened moments before he collapsed to the ground, and a grief unlike aught he’d ever experienced ripped through him.

He was not sure how he knew, but the dying woman belonged to him, and someone had just taken him away.

Tossing his head back, Orley let out an anguished shout at the heavens.
 
ORLEY WOKE, panting and sweating, in the home of his friend, Heathcliff.

Holy. Shit. That one had been very different from his other nightmares. He rubbed his face with his hand and groaned as pain raced through his leg—the one that would never be the same. All because of war, a battle. All because of….

Orley shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to think about that.

Someone knocked lightly on the door, and Orley winced as he realized his plan to come to his room and take a quick nap after his taxing journey out of Tlondon had turned into a deep sleep and a brand-new nightmare.

God, he hated sleeping.

“Enter,” he called out as he sat up and swung his legs off the bed he was borrowing while visiting Heathcliff and Lucien for their country-house party. The door opened, and Orley turned to address the person standing there. He stopped short, almost swallowing his tongue as he took in the vision of the most beautiful creature to have ever been born.

Orley had been privileged to see many beautiful people in his life. Male and female, he was a lover of aesthetically pleasing images and didn’t discriminate. However, all of them paled in comparison to the lovely light-brown-skinned woman in front of him. Orley’s stomach clenched, his groin tightening as he inhaled sharply. The lovely scent of jasmine wafted up to his nostrils, and his eyes slid closed as he relished in the delightful fragrance emanating from the male who had just entered his room.

“Forgive me, Your Grace. I was sent to bring you a light repast and perhaps something to wash up with? His Grace the Duke of Pompinshire thought that perhaps you would like to freshen up before joining the rest of the guests downstairs.” The woman’s voice was soft and lyrical, with a slight lilt to it, and Orley wondered if perhaps he sang. He would have no problem lounging around on the settee listening to him sing or even just talk. Of course, as he took in the male’s appearance, he felt the desire to do much more than just listen to him.

“Your Grace? Are you ill?” the servant asked, and Orley swallowed, shaking his head.

“N-no. I’m fine. Just a bit out of sorts, I’m afraid. I appear to have overslept during my nap, and now I am feeling quite peckish,” he lied.

The woman nodded, his hazel eyes lighting with relief. Orley wondered at that. Was his well-being really of great concern, or was it just because the maid had been sent to look after Orley?

Orley allowed his gaze to rove over the young male’s form again, taking in every detail intently. He would like to have something to conjure up in his mind’s eye later on that evening when he put his hand to his already burgeoning erection.

Wearing the female black dress with a white apron, which was the maid’s uniform that was standard in most homes of the gentry, the young woman had honey blond hair that was currently pulled back in a very luscious chignon at the nape of his neck, and Orley could only imagine how long and thick it was. An image rose to his brain of that hair hanging down over his face as the young woman slid up and down his cock, and he pressed a hand to the sheets covering his waist. The young male’s skin was almond colored, and all Orley wanted to do was spend hours licking every inch of his body. He was not overly tall, only a few inches taller than Lucien, Heath’s husband, but still much shorter than Orley. And where Orley was all hard, thick muscles, the male maid before him was slender, though still with a lovely, toned body.

His slim-fingered hands held a covered silver tray, and Orley gestured him forward with a beckoning wave.

“Well, far be it from me to refuse such generosity from His Grace. You can just place it there on the nightstand,” he directed, watching the sway of the servant’s hips beneath the skirt of his maid’s gown as he walked toward the cherrywood nightstand.
Orley shoved his fingers through his blond locks, messing up his hair and throwing his queue into disarray. He was unnerved as the vestiges of the nightmare faded from his mind, wreaking havoc with the lovely, distracting image of Heathcliff’s maid, whose form even now was causing a pleasurable ache in his balls.

“Is there anything else that I can do for you, Your Grace?” the maid asked, his voice hushed, eyes downcast, and a slight tinge of red to his light brown skin.

Orley prided himself on being a man of honor, integrity, and character. As a matter of fact, his grandfather, Charles Edrick Garrick I, the former Duke of Whitcomb, had more than once given him lessons and lectures on the way a gentleman was to behave. Anyone can strut around and use his physical strength to try and prove his brawn. But it takes honor, patience, gentleness, character, integrity, fortitude, knowing when to fight, knowing when to walk away, knowing when to love, how to love, and when to let go, and most importantly, knowing when to use your physical strength and when to be humble, that makes you a man.

Orley had always believed those words from his grandfather, had in fact lived by those words for his entire life. He’d only strayed from them when he’d served in His Majesty’s military and on those rare occasions when he’d allowed Blaine, Heathcliff, and Quincy to talk him into traveling down into the Lower East End to partake of the wares of the light-skirts. And while his grandfather’s words usually guided him, right now he was seriously considering doing something illicit.

He couldn’t believe the images that were passing through his mind. Flashes. Quick, as if they were memories like his time spent on the battlefield rather than the salacious, hopeful yearnings of a desirous, dry, fruitless attraction. However, the longer he spent in the company of the object of his mind’s current musings, the more it seemed his “dry, fruitless attraction” was soaked in hope and possibility. And perhaps it was for that reason that rationality and his grandfather’s words of character, honor, and integrity grew softer and softer until they were suddenly silent. All he could concentrate on was how lovely Heathcliff’s maid was. How round the male woman’s derriere was. How slim his shoulders were. How graceful his neck was.

How full his lips were, and how much Orley desperately wanted to kiss them.

“I think I would really like to know your name,” he heard himself saying.

The maid’s eyes widened, and he gasped softly. “Me, Your Grace?”

Orley chuckled. “Of course you. There is no one else in the room but you and I, and I assure you that I already know my own name. Unless it has changed in the time I have been asleep. It hasn’t, has it?”

The maid giggled and covered his mouth, shaking his head. Orley found himself even more enchanted. When was the last time he’d heard someone allow themselves to be so free that they just giggled? His life was constantly surrounded by danger, drama, gossip, backstabbers, and intrigue. He had a very small group of people he could trust, and they didn’t often have the time to smile, much less giggle. Being around someone who could giggle was a relief. It was like a bright ray of sunshine. Orley absolutely had to have the maid’s name.

“No, Your Grace. Your name hasn’t changed.” The maid glanced away for a moment, as if embarrassed, and then looked back. “My name is Chester.” He executed a flawless curtsy, and Orley rose from the bed and bowed low, smiling at Chester’s gasp. He knew Chester was surprised that a member of the gentry, and a duke no less, would bow to him, but he would soon learn that Orley was unlike every other duke out there.

“It is an honor to meet you, Chester. I am extremely happy to be in your presence and very happy that you will be serving me, and now….” Orley stepped close to Chester, looking down into the young woman’s hazel brown eyes. His heart was pounding, and his leg, for the first time in years, was not throbbing in pain—perhaps that was because only one thing on his body could be throbbing at a time, and his cock already had that covered. “I would very much like to kiss you.”

“Y-you would?” Chester stammered.

Orley nodded, lifting his hand to brush his fingers against the side of Chester’s cheek.

“Is that okay, Chester? I find you to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and I would really like to kiss you. May I?”

“You’re asking me?” Chester looked confused. “I was told that men of your standing didn’t ask, that you just take.”

Orley shook his head, saddened by what Chester thought of men of the ton, but he knew Chester’s assumptions came as a result of dealing with “men” of a certain ilk. He would be speaking with Heathcliff about those matters later that week, but at that moment, all of his energy and attention was focused on Chester.

“Of course I am asking you. You always have a choice. Not just with me, but with every single man in the world. You do not have to do anything you don’t want to do. At least, that is the way it should be in a perfect world. So if you don’t want to kiss me, we don’t have to.” Orley would be disappointed, he would be haunted for days, perhaps a fortnight, by the fullness of Chester’s mouth, but eventually he would get over it.

Chester nibbled on his bottom lip and then grinned. “I would love for you to kiss me, Your Grace.”

Orley wanted to let out a loud yell of triumph, but he held back and lowered his lips to Chester’s full, pillow-soft mouth. He was fully expecting the surge of lust that spread through his limbs. Maybe he was even expecting the tingle that spread through his fingers and toes. However, the lightheaded feeling that drowned him in peace and yet simultaneous excitement, and the way his heart sped up, were completely unexpected. He growled and pulled Chester to him, as close as he could possibly get the woman. He felt a bit like a ravenous beast, wanting to devour Chester whole.

He lifted his lips to take a breath, opened his eyes, and gazed down into Chester’s dazed ones. Chester smiled slowly up at him. Orley grinned back, rubbing his hand up and down Chester’s back and already preparing for the next round of kissing.

​So he was surprised when he went to lower his head for another kiss and was met with nothing but air and the sound of his bedroom door closing.
​

About Vicktor Alexander: 

Vicktor “Vic” Alexander wrote his first story at the age of ten and hasn’t stopped writing since. He loves reading about anything and everything and is a proud member of the little known U.N. group (Undercover Nerds) because while he lives, eats, breathes, and sleeps sports, he also breathes history and science fiction and grew up a Trekkie. But don’t ask him about Dungeons & Dragons, because he has no idea how to play that game. When it comes to writing he loves everything from paranormal to contemporary to fantasy to BDSM to historical and is known not only for being the Epilogue King but also for writing stories that cross lines and boundaries that he doesn’t know are there. Vic is a proud father of two daughters one of whom watches over him from Heaven with his deceased partner Christopher. Vic is a proud trans* and gay man, and when he is not writing, he is hanging out with his friends, or being distracted by videos of John Barrowman, Scott Hoying, and Shemar Moore. Vicktor has published numerous bestselling novels and has a WIP list that makes him exhausted just thinking about. He knows that he will be still be writing about hot men falling in love with each other, long after he is living in an assisted living facility, flirting with the hot, male nurses.
​
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27-Nov: Havan Fellows, Louise Lyons, Prism Book Alliance

30-Nov: Onwards, Upwards, House Millar

1-Dec: Jessie G. Books, Divine Magazine

2-Dec: Tempeste O'Riley

3-Dec: MM Good Book Reviews, Fantastical Worlds, Fiery Love

4-Dec: Mikky's World of Books, Brightly Books

6-Dec: Love Bytes

7-Dec: Inked Rainbow Reads, BFD Book Blog

8-Dec: A.M. Leibowitz, Antonia Aquilante

9-Dec: Grace R. Duncan's Blog

​10-Dec: Bending The Bookshelf, Book Lovers 4Ever

I love the holidays. Even with the stress of everything that has to get done before Christmas, I still love this time of year. I even love the hustle and bustle sometimes (yes, you think I'm crazy, it's fine) - I like braving the stores for Christmas shopping, though sometimes I have to remind myself of that when the crowds get too big and people get a little rude. Decorating the house, baking Christmas cookies, wrapping gifts, sending cards, Christmas music - I enjoy all of it. Here's my tree, decorated the Saturday after Thanksgiving:

​I also read a lot of holiday romances. In fact most of what I read from Thanksgiving through New Years are holiday romances (sometimes I'll pull one out at another time of year, when I need a dose of really happy). It's my own little tradition, and if I can read them sitting my the Christmas tree with a mug of peppermint hot chocolate, that's even better. Holiday romances are wonderful. They take everything about romances - the hope, the joy, the happy ever after - and magnify them like crazy. There's a special warm, happy, fuzzy feeling you get at the end of a holiday romance when everyone is happy and together. I thought I'd list some of my favorites (even though you've probably been inundated with holiday romance recs already). So in random order:

Turkey in the Snow by Amy Lane - I love this novella. It makes me smile every time and it's probably my favorite Amy Lane Christmas story, though Christmas Kitsch was wonderful and made me laugh and cry and smile too.

The Winter Spirit by Indra Vaughn - I just read this one. It's now a new favorite. I adored Gabriel the ghost and Nate from the beginning and was hoping for a magical HEA (it's a Christmas story and I loved it so you can bet there was one).

The Minnesota Christmas series by Heidi Cullinan - This series is wonderful, sexy and sweet and so very Christmas. I just read the third book, Winter Wonderland, and they just keep getting better.

North Pole City Tales by Charlie Cochet - This is a fantastic fantasy series set at the North Pole among Santa's elves. It's a brilliant magical world filled with sweet treats and Christmas joy and lovely romance. I'm looking forward to Loving Blitz which comes out this month.

Holiday Outing by Astrid Amara - This is a fun Hanukah romance with a blizzard, a zany family, and a little mystery. It's probably my favorite holiday romance by this author but I really enjoyed her Bellskis series too.

Winter Knights by Harper Fox - Beautiful writing and a hint of the paranormal and a lovely holiday romance. I also love her Nine Lights Over Edinburgh. 

Lone Star by Josh Lanyon - A romance between a ballet dancer returning home after many years away and a Texas Ranger he loved as a teenager. I also love Icecapade, a Christmas romance between a former jewel thief turned writer and the FBI agent who pursued him, and The Dickens with Love which involved an unknown Dickens Christmas tale and an ocelot.

A Wallflower Christmas by Lisa Kleypas - Kleypas's Wallflower series is one of my favorite historical series, and this Christmas story lets us visit with old friends while meeting a new couple.

The Mischief of the Mistletoe by Lauren Willig - With a hero called Turnip, could this be anything other than a fun story?

Mistletoe at Midnight by LB Gregg - A sweet second chance romance in the midst of a family Christmas at an inn in Vermont.

My True Love Gave to Me by Ava March - This historical novella broke me apart at the beginning, but it was lovely to see these two men come back together again.

Secret Light by ZA Maxfield - A historical set in the 1950s. It was subdued and emotional but lovely.

Blame It on the Mistletoe by Eli Easton - Sweet holiday romance between a super smart, adorable nerd and his athlete roommate.

Comfort and Joy Anthology - A Christmas anthology with stories from Joanna Chambers, Harper Fox, LB Gregg, and Josh Lanyon. Joanna Chambers's Rest and Be Thankful might be my favorite story of them, but they were all good.

I'll stop there, but I add so many more. I keep thinking of them! And they all need to be reread, and there are still so many new ones to read this year.

​What about you? Do you read holiday romances? What are your favorites?

Fellow Dreamspinner author Meg Harding is here today with an excerpt from her holiday novella, A Trip to Remember.

A Trip to Remember
Meg Harding 
Holiday Novella, Sleigh Ride Anthology
17,514 words
Contemporary Romance
Published by Dreamspinner
Cover by Bree Archer

Where he ends up might be better than where he was going.

Colin wants to spend the Christmas holiday with his family, but a blizzard settles in and his flight is cancelled. Unwilling to accept this, he strikes out on his own and crashes his car. Where he ends up might be better than where he was going, though.

Logan was content to wait out the blizzard and spend the holiday alone, but when a frozen-solid Colin ends up on his doorstep he’s not going to turn him away. He takes him in and shows him Christmas spent with a stranger really doesn’t have to be awkward after all.

Buy A Trip to Remember: Dreamspinner Press

Left alone, and more aware of the situation than he had been since he’d woken up, Colin took the opportunity to look at the room more thoroughly. In the corner stood a large Christmas tree, the lights and ornaments all red and white, and a couple presents scattered beneath. From the mantle above the fireplace hung several stockings, and little glass reindeer were placed on the mantle itself. Christmas knickknacks were spread throughout the room, placed on shelves and tables. A spinning snowflake dangled from the ceiling fan.
“Your family was supposed to come here, weren’t they?” he asked when Logan came back into the room.
“Yeah.” He handed the wet cloth to Colin with a small smile. “They’re smart, though, they didn’t try to travel through a blizzard.” He winked, his smile turning into a pleased smirk.
Colin rolled his eyes and scrubbed the cloth along his neck, hoping he was getting everything. “Are you ever going to let that go?”
“Considering I’ve only been harping on it for about ten minutes, I think you’ve got a ways to go.” Logan sat down next to him, his hip pressing into Colin’s stomach. “Give me that. You look so pathetic.” It sounded like he was trying not to laugh. He tugged the cloth from Colin’s grip, leaning over him to start dragging it over his skin.
Colin froze for a second, his neck tilted back vulnerably. He swallowed heavily. Logan was very much in his space, his face hovering right over Colin’s. He could see the striations in his irises, the way his pupils had expanded. If he respired out his mouth, he’d be breathing right into his face. He felt like he was holding his breath.
Get a grip. He tried to subtly exhale out his nose. “I thought you weren’t going to play nurse,” he said.
“I had no idea you’d make it look so difficult,” said Logan, brushing his thumb over the skin he’d just scrubbed, soothing irritated flesh. “It seemed wrong to let you keep trying.”
​

​Author Bio:

Meg Harding is a graduate of UCF, and is completing a masters program for Publishing in the UK. For as long as she can remember, writing has always been her passion, but she had an inability to ever actually finish anything. She’s immensely happy that her inability has fled and looks forward to where her mind will take her next. She’s a sucker for happy endings, the beach, and superheroes.  In her dream life she owns a wildlife conservation and is surrounded by puppies. She’s a film buff, voracious reader, and a massive geek.

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