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Hamish Kenneally is moving from Australia to the US for a fresh start, beginning with Christmas at his sister’s place in Idaho. When a snowstorm diverts his plane to Montana and leaves him stranded two days before Christmas, he hires a car and drives right into a blizzard.


Ren Brooks has always called Hartbridge, Montana, and his family hardware store, home. After a few failed attempts at love, he’s resigned to being single forever—after all, no guy wants to stay in his sleepy little town for long. And after his dad’s passing earlier in the year, Ren’s Christmas is looking bleak. But when a car runs off the road in front of his property, Ren pulls the driver out and takes him home to get out of the cold.


With the storm and the holidays leaving Hamish with nowhere else to go, Ren kindly offers a place to stay. Hamish is certain he’s crashed right into a Hallmark Christmas movie, despite more car delays and road closures and the prospect of not seeing his sister for Christmas. And with help from Hamish, Ren is beginning to feel a little Christmas cheer.


These two unlikely strangers have more in common than they first realise, and after two days of Christmas decorations, cookies, and non-stop conversation, it looks like Christmas might be saved after all.


Genre: MM Holiday Romance

Release date: November 27, 2020

Tropes:

One Aussie, one American

A snowstorm

Christmas cookies

A dog called Chutney

Laughs, tears, and all the feels


Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/TicTacMistletoe


excerpt

A totally catastrophic, unmitigated disaster.


What is a totally catastrophic, unmitigated disaster, you might ask?


Let me break it down for you real quick.


My life, my relationship, my job, my plans, my future, and this whole damn trip.


So, basically me.


Me.


I am the totally catastrophic unmitigated disaster.


Hamish Kenneally, thirty-one-year-old Australian, who quit his shitty job and sold his shitty apartment and left behind his shitty life in Sydney, packed his said-shitty life into two suitcases, and boarded a plane to spend Christmas with his sister in God-knows-where, Idaho, USA.


Well, Christmas first. Then two years, at least, in America trying to unshitify his life.


And if the trip to said God-knows-where, Idaho, was any indication of just how spectacularly extra-shitified my life was going to get, I should have turned around and stayed right where I was.


Because if the flight from Sydney to LA was bad, which it was, then the second flight, LA to Spokane, made the first flight look like a joy ride.


Because I didn’t get to Spokane, did I?


Oh no, of course I didn’t.


Because you see, Christmastime in America is in winter. Which is weird enough for this Australian. Christmas should be hot summer days at the beach, seafood and salads, beers and watching the bronzed surfers and drunk foreigners at Bondi. That is what Christmas should be.


None of this “sorry folks; to avoid flying into a massive snow blizzard, we’re being diverted to Missoula, Montana” crap the captain of the plane said when we were halfway there. Like the screaming baby in the seat next to me, or the vomiting lady in the row in front of me weren’t bad enough. Like we had any choice about which direction we were flying into.


I had no choice. I was now going to Montana. In a freaking blizzard, of all things. Ever been on a plane that flew into a snowstorm? There is zero joy in that kind of turbulence, believe me. It would also explain the screaming baby and the vomiting woman. And the man behind me saying Hail Mary’s . . . which you’d think might be comforting. But oh boy, is it ever not. Especially when he yelled the prayer every time we hit a particularly large pothole in the sky on the descent. Honestly, if this flight was a scene in a movie, you’d think it was too ridiculous to be real.


After the plane landed—to which I would have clapped and cheered like everyone else if I wasn’t stuck in the brace position after trying to kiss my own arse goodbye—we were kicked off the plane without so much as a good luck in the wrong bloody state.


So there I was, a clueless Aussie, after flying for twenty hellish-hours and now a few hundred kilometres from where I was supposed to be, trying to wrangle two overweight suitcases down the concourse, when one little wheel on my suitcase broke.


Because of course it did.


Frazzled and trying not to cry— Yes, cry. A thirty-one-year-old man can cry; shove your toxic masculinity in your cakehole and stop judging me. I was having a jetlag-fuelled shitastic day meltdown, trying to keep my shit together the best I could, and clearly not doing it very well. I was allowed a little saltwater leakage.


Anyway, getting back to my story. I tried to call my sister.


No signal.


Because of course there’s not.


So, taking a deep breath and willing myself not to spiral, I found my car rental kiosk. Finally, something is going right. “I have a car booked,” I said, trying to keep my now-broken suitcase upright with my foot while rifling through my backpack for my booking confirmation and driver’s licence. After dropping my passport and half the contents from my backpack all over the floor, then scrambling to collect it all while still trying to keep my suitcase upright, I handed everything over with a flourish of triumph. “Oh, that flight was the worst,” I said, sagging onto the counter. I was about to tell her all about my day from the ninth circle of hell when she looked up at me with that look.


You know the one.


The look of superficial appeasement before they cut you off at the knees. “I’m sorry, sir. But I don’t have a reservation under your name.”


I stared at her. My brain short-circuited and the will to live left my body. It was an actual out-of-body experience, I’m sure of it. I could see myself staring at her, mouth gaping like I’d been lobotomised.


Because of course they didn’t have my booking.


Why would they? My rental car was waiting for me in Spokane. In Washington. Not in freaking Montana.


“Oh,” I whispered, and my left eye twitched. “That’s nice.” I looked around the airport, at the line of annoyed people behind me. “Excellent. I’ve seen that movie where Tom Hanks lives in an airport. It wasn’t so bad. Could be worse. Could’ve been the one where he’s stuck on the island, I guess. Though I didn’t pack a volleyball, so that would’ve sucked.”


She blinked and tap-tap-tapped away at her keyboard. “But sir, we’ve had a lot of cancelled flights today because of the weather. I can arrange a vehicle for you, if you’d like?”


Oh, my sweet baby Jesus in a manger, why didn’t she lead with that?


the author

N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.


She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.


She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.


She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.


She’s been writing ever since…


For more about N.R. Walker you can find her at:

Website

Facebook

Facebook Author Page

Twitter

Instagram

Amazon

Audible

Bookbub

Email:

nrwalker@nrwalker.net




Wingspan 4.5

Morgan never thought being a vampire was a bad thing until he finds out the dragon shifters, who are the most prejudiced, are his fated mate’s family.


Morgan’s life changed the day he was kidnapped and held captive. Even weeks after the rescue, he’s still mentally processing all that has happened. Wingspan might seem like a safe place, but he’s nursed a few of the local bigots, so he knows looks can be deceiving. And then he meets his Fated mate. Seamus seems too good to be true. A sexy, protective dragon shifter who can bake and smiles all the time. What’s not to love. Despite the chemistry between them, Morgan finds it difficult to let others in, even his mate. Can he let Seamus be his safe haven?


Release Day: November 27, 2020

Author(s): April Kelley

Publisher: Hard Rose Publishing

Cover Artist: Studio ENP

Length: 21477 Words

Category: M/M Paranormal Romance

Tropes: fated mates, opposites attract

Keywords: Dragon Shifters, vampires, small town, Christmas,


Buy Links:

Universal: https://books2read.com/u/mVgNl5

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MFLZD9Y



wingspan

New Addiction, The Cautious Valentine, Finding Happy, Solid Ground, A Little Unsteady, Christmas Cookies



the author

April Kelley is an author of LGBTQ+ Romance. Her works include The Journey of Jimini Renn, which was a Rainbow Awards finalist, Whispers of Home, the Saint Lakes series, and over thirty more. She’s a main contributor at Once and Books. April has been an avid reader for several years. Ever since she wrote her first story at the age of ten, the characters in her head still won't stop telling their stories. If April isn't reading or writing, she can be found taking a long walk in the woods or going on her next adventure.



LINKS:


Website: http://www.authoraprilkelley.com/

Patron https://www.patreon.com/aprilkelley.

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1538712856332109

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authoraprilkell

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/authoraprilkelley/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/authoraprilkelley

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authoraprilkell/

Queeromance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/april-kelley/

Amazon Page: https://www.amazon.com/April-Kelley/e/B00TWDUUEM/


Gwen Cook has returned to Williamsburg, Virginia, after more than a decade away from her family estate. Frankie Porter has spent the last year renovating that same estate, turning the dilapidated Cook mansion into a showpiece. Gwen and Frankie shared a childhood full of hard secrets and ripe with first love. Now adults, their paths cross again and sparks fly.


A HEA with content warnings for PTSD and implied child abuse.


Publisher: Madison Place Press

Cover Artist: Rebecca Slather

Release Date: November 9, 2020

Genre: F/F Romance

Themes/Tropes: Christmas, childhood friends to lovers

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 75 000 words/ 208 pages

It is a standalone book.

Goodreads


Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US | Amazon UK


excerpt

The boathouse had barely changed in twelve years. The creek ran quite a bit deeper and wider. Brown water had swallowed up much of the far bank and licked in pools about the base of the boathouse itself. Frankie had to shove back kudzu and sumac as she walked. The soles of her boots sank inches into mud. Tiny pink-and-white wildflowers grew up between the trees, and here and there she spotted a drooping hedge bright with red berries.


She made her way cautiously through the undergrowth until she could touch the old building. Standing against the foundation, she cocked her head and squinted up along brick walls. The boathouse seemed as sturdy as she remembered. Two stories high and crumbling on the outside, it was ruler straight and strong except for the roof, which still sagged but hadn’t given in to the elements and fallen.


“Used to be, they knew how to build to last.” Frankie patted the warm brick.


The structure didn’t tower the way it had in her childhood, but she supposed it wouldn’t. She had grown—her bones had lengthened into adulthood. She’d managed to top five feet, barely. At sixteen, she’d feared she would be stuck forever just above four.


Frankie hesitated, glancing up into the sky. The trees had grown tall, and she could see less of the sun than she remembered. The place was definitely cooler, definitely shadier; but on a warm summer afternoon, shade wasn’t such a bad thing.


She leaned against the boathouse and untied her boots. Stripping off her shoes and socks, she stood barefoot in the mud, regarding the brick walls. Twelve years gone and she was no longer a child. Could she do it?


Of course she could. Was it wise?


Probably not.


But her fingers and toes found the old cracks easily, and before she knew it, she was halfway up the wall. The brick brushed her khaki shorts, leaving brown stains. A branch streaked her white shirt with sap. Frankie didn’t notice. At the top she hoisted herself over the edge of the roof and onto the shingles. She sat very still, holding her breath, waiting to see if the roof would protest. The shingles held, even when she rose to her feet and tiptoed across the top of the boathouse to her old perch.


She looked up and around first, admiring the oak and the dogwood and the ash with their green-as-grass leaves. She sucked in the fragrance of the creek as she brushed her bangs from her eyes. Then she took a deeper breath and looked down.


James Creek glittered below, cut into geometric shapes by dim sunlight. Shadows gathered at the edges of the water and then spread away along the bank. From where she stood, the water looked deep and inviting.


giveaway

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the author

Sarah Remy/Alex Hall is a nonbinary, animal-loving, proud gamer Geek. Their work can be found in a variety of cool places, including HarperVoyager, EDGE and NineStar Press.


Author Links

Blog/Website | Twitter: @sarahremywrites


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