HOT MALL SANTA, Xmas silliness & steamy fun; & A COP FOR CHRISTMAS, less steam but as much silliness & fun

A COP FOR CHRISTMAS
JAMIE FESSENDEN
Self-published (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$2.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Mason Collier isn’t big on authority figures. When Office Steve Coleman pulls him over and gives him a speeding ticket, he doesn’t react well. He’s even less happy when he discovers the cop lives next door to his parents’ house.

No matter where they turn this holiday season, Steve and Mason keep running into each other, and whenever they talk for more than a minute, they piss each other off. But from wayward dogs to Christmas tree hunts to maple syrup festivals, it proves impossible to avoid each other in the small town.

If Mason can see the good man behind the badge, he might just get a cop for Christmas.

THIS WAS A GIFTIE FROM DEARLY BELOVÈD RONI!

My Review: Pretty much straight-people safe! Moderate steam!

One thing to know about this story is the whole reason these guys work as a couple from the jump is they're the only kind of guys the other thinks about. They're just primed, ready to go, when they meet. Being attracted to someone's essential presentation of self is a good quick-start to instaluuuv.

“I’m all for getting some sleep—I’m wiped. But I wouldn’t object to a little cuddling.”

Steve’s eyebrows twitched. And something much, much lower on his body twitched too. “Um… sure. We could do that.”

“Did I shock you? Collier men aren’t known for being subtle.”

Steve laughed. “Well, Coleman men kind of need to be hit over the head.”

“Consider yourself hit over the head, then.”

I love the calm way Steve the cop makes his sexual versatility obvious. I love Mason's equally calm clarity that he's bottoming being so matter-of-fact.

“I told you,” Steve said, fishing {a condom} out and examining it. “Jackie is a woman of the world. And, no, I don’t mean she sleeps around. I mean her life would make a great novel, she’s probably the smartest person I know, and this isn’t the first time she’s had guests who might need condoms and lube. Is this for my dick or yours?”

“Yours.”

Cute. Sweet. So cheerfully positive!

“We forgot to put a snowman at the end of the driveway, so I volunteered to stand here until morning.”

“Wiseass. Are you going back inside or do you want a ride somewhere?”

That was kind of a dumb question. Where the hell would he be going on foot in a snowstorm? But Mason couldn’t resist saying, “I’ll go wherever you’re going.”

See? Sweet! Two w-bombs lowered the score a half-point, and another half-point died when Author Fessenden made two not-snarky not-unkind mentions of Thomas Kinkade Painter of Light™. But on balance, it does what it says it will do on the box so here you go: small-town sweetness and one (1) full sex scene.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

HOT MALL SANTA
A.J. TRUMAN
Self-published (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$2.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: You better watch out. You better not cry. Hot Mall Santa is coming to town!

Instead of round and jolly, this year’s mall Santa is chiseled and smoldering. The second he strolls into Oakville Mall wearing sunglasses, stubble, and his Santa hat cocked to the side, Santa gets all the tongues wagging—especially Tom Webster’s. A lowly retail associate at The Décor Store, Tom spends his time chasing a promotion and boss that are both out of reach. His fantasies about being a ho-ho-ho for Santa soon cross into reality after an unexpected night together. While the rest of the town obsesses over Hot Mall Santa, Tom gets to know the sweet, nerdy history buff under the suit and six-pack abs. But to win Santa’s heart, he must fight off the lusty moms, adoring fans, and his own fear of rejection.

Hot Mall Santa is a fun and sexy novella at 32,000 words filled with nutty Christmas shoppers, a grown man wearing reindeer antlers, and too many holiday puns.

THIS WAS A YULE GIFT FROM DEAR, SWEET RONI. THANK YOU!

My Review: Cute'n'steamy...the line forms out the mall doors to get some lap time with Hot Mall Santa!

“He was like the living embodiment of sex. His beard was pulled down, and he had these amazing cheeks and jaw. It’s like whatever the cheek and jaw equivalent is to an ass you can bounce a quarter off of.”

You're getting just what it says on the package: hot guy does crummy job & looks great doing it.

“It’s weird when all people do is compliment something about you that you had no part in. It’s not like being praised for something I’ve done or made. Just something I am. Like a zoo animal.”

Poor guy...he's not even taken at face value, just value of face. What makes it Xmas fun us that job is being Santa. What a cute Horny Hallmark this would be! And the pleasure of Tom waking up to being used by his boss...Randall being such a mensch...it's got the Holiday formula down.

He grabbed at Randall’s faux fur-trimmed lapels and pulled him closer, shoving his tongue into his pretty, Hot Mall Santa mouth. His hands traveled across his chest and tumbled down his washboard ads. Tom had thought that washboard abs were something that only existed in cologne ads.

There's no time like the present to get your good luck handled. And handle him Tom does! The charm of sex scenes with plenty of detail will likely be lost on the straighter folk. You're not likely to get the "ordinary-guy-bags-the-buff-bod" now are you? Haw! There was an entire film about that, the woman was tubby and the guy thought she was gorgeous and people lapped it up...so don't prim your lips and start carryin' on about objectifyin' and such-like quite so fast.

What makes this story fun to read is the way the author decided to make the pretty-boy hung like a stallion and good with it into a nerd. It's like discovering Henry Cavill plays video games and TTRPGs and the like. He's proof that Randall isn't a complete fantasy object. This was harmless fun, spiced with hot sex and sweet lovingkindness.

They got out of the car. A light dusting of snow began to fall from the sky. It was nothing a Midwesterner couldn’t handle. Tom doubted it would even stick to the roads. Randall treated it as the most beautiful precipitation he’d ever seen. It was probably his first white Christmas. He held his hands out to touch it, lifted his head, laughed as it dotted his cheeks. Who knew that beneath the raging sex appeal, there would be a layer of dorkiness, and that it could be nothing short of adorable?

You're getting exactly what it says on the package, so is that what you want? It was what I wanted and it went down a treat.

ALL I WANT, as frothy and fun and sweet as a venti toasted white chocolate mocha

ALL I WANT
STELLA STARLING
Self-published (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$4.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five, caveat: straight people are strongly cautioned

The Publisher Says: “All I want for Christmas is someone to love.”

Shy retail clerk Elliott Gaffney’s Christmas wish isn’t something Santa can grant him, but that doesn’t stop it from being his favorite time of year. Especially since he gets to work at Chicago’s prestigious Ashby’s department store in “the North Pole,” doing his part to make the magic of Christmas come alive for others.

All Bennett “Ash” Ashby wants for Christmas is to forget about it. Unfortunately, his father is forcing him to pay penance for the media frenzy caused by his latest public sex scandal. The Ashby heir, working as a lowly department store Santa? Only the fact that no one will know it’s really him can save Ash the embarrassment of being stuck in a fat suit instead of partying with his friends.

But when Elliott catches Ash’s eye, Christmas starts to look a whole lot brighter. And even though Elliott would never have the guts to say yes if he knew who Ash really was, falling for “Ben,” the new Santa, is another story all together…

I RECEIVED THIS HOLIDAY THEMED ROMANCE AS A FREEBIE ON AMAZON.

My Review: There are far, far, far too many w-bombs (over a dozen!) in this book. A few of them at the beginning are not what they initially seem to be, but the fact is that they don’t stop coming.

Speaking of coming…there’s more of that than I expected in a silly frothing Holiday-season treat like this book. It was an agreeable surprise that I got as much as I did, since it suited my mood that day perfectly. What was also comforting and comfortable was the plot’s absence of fanciness. There wasn’t anything grafted on or poked through to make it more Writerly. It’s a straightforward workplace grump-and-sunshine romp with the usual status and wealth gap.

“Ben” aka Ash the company’s big-boss’s son is forced among the hoi polloi for Xmas…into duty as the flagship store’s Santa! Tell me that’s for a single second believable…but Elliott, the humorously cast nutcracker positioned next to Santa, is there to whisper in “Ben”’s ear the requisite clues on how to handle the kiddies. Which he instantly turns into winning charm and sweetness!

Okay. So you see the Disbelief-alaya you’re going to be required to climb. Summiting K2 in tuxedo slippers without external oxygen would be easier for many, including me in another mood.

Also stretching one’s credulity muscles: Ash is being punished for being caught by the paparazzi in a car having sex with a fellow company director. (No word on that poor bastard’s fate. Can’t’ve been pretty.) Ash’s Page-Six priors are all with socially acceptable men…models, celebs, the like…and Ash’s father, while disapproving of his latest and one must acknowledge supremely stupid escapade, is barely even implied to be upset that it’s with a man. Just that man. And that he got caught. (Even when Ash's earlier struggles to be his queer self are touched on, they aren't foregrounded.)

For Elliott, whose gayness also isn’t remotely disapproved of by his gay and RGBFF colleagues at the store, “Ben” is the “pinch me I must be dreaming” guy, the one whose Look you intercept and turn around to see who he’s looking at…and it’s YOU!...and the bells ring and the birds sing! *wistful sigh* memories do have power.

For Ash, Elliott’s sincere and bone-deep love of the magical way the Holidays make happiness so much easier to find and to share is intoxicating. A sincere pleasure is a rare thing in the world of the very privileged. Everything is much less simple when you’re rich. Every apple has a worm; every horse is Trojan. It’s all very easy…there’s always someone whose job it is to do the labor…but you pay (and pay and pay) for it with the complete and total absence of simplicity. This is why Marie Kondo’s nonsense is so very appealing to wealthy people.

The end product of these two very different men coming (!) together is a somewhat unsustainable HEA. We're in a romance world, but still a HFN would've worked fine...and left room for Reality. These are people from radically different backgrounds, and while opposites attract, similarities endure. You're given many chances to see bits of Ash's growing up process (eg, the Grinch call from his dad, his rescue of the dog and subsequent ability to overcome his collywobbles at dealing with poochie's ticks) and similar opportunities to see Elliott coming to terms with his quite normal fears about someone as handsome as Ash falling for him. But really? What my brain says is, "not a damn chance, they're from different worlds, they'll run out of common ground in seconds flat." The gift Stella Starling has is for making my sentimental "I always cry at weddings" side ruthlessly club that bastard into submission and take over the endocrine system, flooding me with oxytocin. I want to bond, so I want Ash and Elliott to bond, and therefore the...um...not-sturdy framework (too harsh to call it "flimsy" but...) of this relationship Is. Just. FINE.

That issue firmly dealt with (ignore the muffled screams coming from my closet-locked logic centers), we can touch on (!) the sex scenes: Hot enough, not too many or too few, and VERY MUCH NOT HETERO SAFE. No! Down! The mechanics of deflowering a man aren't skimped or dwelt on; and, for a wonder, the top's the PoV character! That's not ordinary, and Stella Starling did a good job of it...sadly, not the usual case. All three of the sex scenes have a certain...lovingkindness...to them, so they're not icky but they're likely to be uncomfortably detailed for those whose tastes don't run towards men with men.

At all events, this is a novel, not a novella; this is a story, not a set-up delivered with pretty wrapping paper; and this won't weigh you down as you're sipping your venti toasted white chocolate mocha, pondering how to survive the weirdness of a second Plague Yule. Smiles and fun all the way, please, Bibliosanta!