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.

THE GENTLE ART OF FORTUNE HUNTING, exciting and artful while showing sharp teeth

THE GENTLE ART OF FORTUNE HUNTING
K.J. CHARLES
KJC Books (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$3.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Robin Loxleigh and his sister Marianne are the hit of the Season, so attractive and delightful that nobody looks behind their pretty faces.

Until Robin sets his sights on Sir John Hartlebury’s heiress niece. The notoriously graceless baronet isn’t impressed by good looks, or fooled by false charm. He’s sure Robin is a liar—a fortune hunter, a card sharp, and a heartless, greedy fraud—and he’ll protect his niece, whatever it takes.

Then, just when Hart thinks he has Robin at his mercy, things take a sharp left turn. And as the grumpy baronet and the glib fortune hunter start to understand each other, they also find themselves starting to care—more than either of them thought possible.

But Robin's cheated and lied and let people down for money. Can a professional rogue earn an honest happy ever after?

THIS WAS A LOVELY SURPRISE GIFT FROM MY YOUNG GENTLEMAN CALLER. THANK YOU, MY LOVE.

My Review: It requires a particular kind of innocence and faith to be a gambler. I have never had that innocence and I don't think the gods like it when one uses words like "faith" in connection to cynical, bitter people like me. So the fact that a significant portion of this tale takes place in gambling hells and among those who see some...merit? value?...in the damnfoolishness of gambling chafed on my nerve. I was, of course, perfectly prepared for the fortune hunting. After all, it's in the title. And I myownself have never had any negative judgment of fortune hunters who live up to their bargain. (I also see no problem with porn models and other sex workers getting paid to do things I did for free back when there was interest in having me do them. To me, it means they're better at business than I was, not immoral or broken or bad.)

An entirely different conversation, one far more impassioned and full of moral thunderation, would be had if we were to discuss the system that makes these options not only viable but desirable and even, on sadly frequent occasions, necessary. That is not where we are in this particular Regency romance.

It does, however, come very close to being the conversation that Robin and Hart end up having, in several different forms, several different times. What makes the read worth its frustrations (I am impatient in the face of self-righteousness and annoyed by selfish, self-serving blinders on powerful people) is the fact that Author Charles writes the scenes of conflict between privileged and petitioner without for a moment forgetting that each is, in the final analysis, correct; only their viewpoints need to be altered, their idées fixes challenged at the source. And it's no surprise to me that Author Charles knows the essential truth of change: to work, it has to be to not merely from. Which requires a huge jolt of Want. A clinging tendril of need can't help but speed up the fall of the old and the triumph of the new.

Does anyone know a better way to add powerful want and many tendrils of need than to use sex? I don't. And with Hart's Position and his Code, well...them changes were a-gonna smother before moving anything a millimeter. Robin's wantonness, his unfeigned joy in the glorious work of sensual pleasure, means he is in a unique and effective position (!) to effect badly needed, salubrious changes in the essentially caring heart within Hart.

“Sorry? You want to kiss me?”

Hart was still looking away, but Robin could see his ears redden. “You need not, if it is not to your taste.”

“Jesus wept. Of course it is to my taste. I thought it would be spikes and a dildo.” Hart made a spluttering noise.

There it is. Reduced to its essence, there is the book: Are we having the same conversation about the same subject? Do we trust each other enough to find out? And in the end, are there words for what we need...from Life, from each other?

Finding one whose ability to offer that which one actually needs and still isn't overmatched by their own needs...that is a dim, receding dream for many, if not most, people throughout history. It makes the offer of Happily Ever After one of the romance genre's sweetest siren songs. Add onto that dismal truth the way the world has (and still does) treat gay men...the need for a dose of unreality in the form of seeing others, imperfect others more like we actually are, succeed in its attainment is ever urgent. This story's achievement of the HEA is quite dramatic, very theatrical, and damn near begs to be committed to film. I'm not at all sure the sex scenes would make it onto the screen...hell, I'm quite sure they would not because the sex...it's really not suitable for straight people. I can say that, while I get it and would never demand that straight people open their minds a bit more as a group, some of the more willing to challenge their boundaries would do very well to make this book a toe-dipper into thinking without judgment about gay sex. There is absolutely no coercion, no forcing, no shortage of imaginative and playful coupling in the story. I think many IRL couples could do worse than emulate Hart and Robin's ways and means.

Why I'm rating this four stars, instead of the five it sounds like I'm awarding, is easily explained: These men are damned abrasive. The effort of reading while screaming in the first third of the story told against the thrill of the ball. It's not like everyone needs to be likeable or that all the traffic lights need to turn green immediately...the struggle to connect was effective, and it felt as though this HEA was earned.

The problem was the relentlessly self-righteous Hart and the revoltingly self-serving Robin. It was sold to me as "this is how these men are." It wasn't ever UNsold. It was a lot to ask me to simply...jettison...all that, even with the later pillow talk that blew the cobwebs away. Had it been more evenly apportioned throughout the book, say to other characters as well not simply the men in their safe cocoon sharing, I might've been less brought up short at the ball scene's events. I might've been more willing to invest in that sharing. As it was, I was already too set in my response of them being damaged to shift easily into feeling them to be as wounded, hurt as they each actually were.

It is not a fatal flaw. It was a case of seeing the road to the highest peak go on after I got off the ride. And yet, make no mistake, I'd go on the ride again! This read was a pleasure and a badly needed one for me. Author Charles makes her stories fizz and snap and sparkle. Come join the fun with this one.

RECKLESS, first Exley & Dyer gay transvestite pirate romp

RECKLESS
JESS WHITECROFT (Exley & Dyer #1)
Self-published (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$3.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: When pirate Henry Dyer’s ship captures the French frigate Sans Souci, nobody seems to know why Captain Buckler has been chasing such a neglected and unprepossessing prize ship. The puzzle only gets more perplexing when they take the ship and find an English girl in leg irons.

It’s an old and popular love story—the pirate and the virgin who steals his heart away, only this time the pirate is the virgin and the girl isn’t a girl at all. She is James ‘Jem’ Exley, thief, molly, occasional actor and full time transvestite. Jettisoned to the New World in order to spare his aristocratic family any further disgrace, Jem is glamorous, flamboyant and fascinating.

At only nineteen, Henry is determined to prove himself a man one way or the other, and is astonished to find that nothing makes him feel like more of a man than his increasingly reckless passion for Jem. As their love leads them into trouble, the mysterious circumstances of Jem’s capture lead Henry deeper into a mystery that not only upends his whole world, but sees them running for their lives across the Caribbean.

Stolen jewels, scheming Captains and devious drag artists–Black Sails meets Blackadder in this steamy eighteenth century romp from the author of These Violent Delights and Going Sasquatch.

THIS WAS A GIVEAWAY ON AMAZON. THANK YOU.

My Review: Among the many possible variants of “surprised by love” that exist, this one is a less-than-ordinary choice to use. Henry Dyer, pirate, is not the usual hero; Jem Exley, “damsel” in very deep distress, is not the usual heroine. I’m not sure that a pirate in eighteenth-century Caribbean waters would’ve known the word “transvestite” but it’s clearly a concept any moderately immoral character would’ve encountered long ago, so I’ll go with its being used in this context without crabbing too much. The response to it in the flesh was as reasoned and reasonable as I’d’ve expected it to be.

But the molly herself? That backstory! What a way to make a character fly off the page and into my heart! The stakes couldn’t possibly be higher than “being myself would cost me my life but there is no one else I could be so, so be it.” There’s a huge softness in my readerly heart for characters who take agency and act with decision to make their Otherness into a way of being in the world that wants them to fail.

While making myself comfortable in this world, I was often thinking, “what is it here that Author Whitecroft is trying to tell me in the choices?” Usually that means I’m insufficiently wrapped in the story; here, I was reasonably sure I was being led somewhere but not sure enough of where to simply sit back and enjoy the ride. But, as the story unfolds, there is simply nothing for it but to…simply sit back and enjoy the ride. I was all up in this story from chapter two forwards. The action, my dears, simply does not let up. Whee!

The reason that elicits a "Whee!" from my ever-darkening heat-pump (can't rightly call it a heart anymore) is that I am all about quests, mysteries, puzzles in my fiction. I am also an avid follower of Ma'at, I like order. Just not the order most of y'all like...conformity ≠ order. Sameness is not safety. Look at the burgeoning problems presented by monoculture: Cavendish bananas, the ones in your grocery store, are going extinct because they're clones, identical plants, and they've been targeted by a rot that is unfixable. The precise same thing happened to the Gros Michel bananas of my childhood. (BTW the reason artificial banana flavor tastes like it does is that they were aiming for the more powerful taste of the Gros Michel variant.)

Bananas? What the hell...oh right, sameness. Anyway, this book demonstrates a strong affinity for Ma'at in her "spirit in which justice was applied rather than the detailed legalistic exposition of rules" sense. The spirit of Justice demands that Jem get his Henry into bed, into the strange and ever-shifting constellation of acts and demands and solutions that make up a transvestite prostitute thief's life in a time where the mere determination that those things constitute an identity not a pathology was inconceivable. Since this story represents a modern take on the topic, they *do* end up constituting an identity. And do you know what? I am just fine with that. As a gay man of a certain age, whose own family contains other gay men even older than I, it's not in the least inconceivable (and I do know what that word means) that people very like Henry and Jem existed and throve despite their absence of trace evidence in the historical record.

The resolution of this story's plot leaves me disposed to seek out the sequel in hopes that the author's wells have not run dry regarding the Life Piratical of Jem and Henry.

SATAN CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN...seriously, you need more?, and MR. FROSTY PANTS, lovely Holiday gay romances

SATAN CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN
CATHERINE LIEVENS
Self-published (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$3.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 3.5* of five, because whatthehell it's the Holidays

The Publisher Says: Dear Satan Claus…

That’s how the letter Satan received starts. The little girl who wrote it asking for her father to be happy again meant it for someone else, and while that’s obvious, Satan doesn’t care. Santa will never find out, as long as Satan’s nosy assistant, Jasper, doesn’t tell him. Satan isn’t sure why he decides to watch Zoe and her dad, except that he’s bored and lonely. He surprises himself when he moves into the house next to theirs and introduces himself as Sam—because he couldn’t exactly give Riley his real name, could he?

Riley has been divorced for years, and he doesn’t have time for a relationship. He has trust issues and no will to get over them, not when his daughter is the center of his life. Then a new neighbor moves in, and he’s adorably awkward and sexy. Riley tries to keep Sam at arm’s length, but he can’t help but fall in love with him, and he’s pretty sure Sam is falling for him, too.

Then Sam confesses his real name is Satan, and that he’s the king of Hell.

THIS WAS A KINDLE FREEBIE ONE DAY. I SCOOPED IT UP THEN.

My Review: Frothy, fun silliness about a kid’s bad spelling...Satan Claus! Heh...leading to the mother of all meet-cutes. Riley’s daughter Zoe wishes for her daddy to smile more and be happy in her Santa letter, delivered to Satan since it was misaddressed. Bored by being the King of Hell, Satan decides to give Zoe her gifts. How to make divorced, gay dad with abandonment and trust issues Riley smile more? Lie to him, ghost him, and make his daughter like the ghoster! Simple, no?

Of course it’s a category Holiday romance, we know there’s HEA at the end. What it entails is no less than a family rapprochement between Satan and one of his brothers (Archangel Gabriel, no less), as well as a new romantic start between Riley, nice guy, and Satan, King of Hell. I must admit I thought the way Riley handled the presence of the King of Hell in his house was...subdued. I myownself would've freaked right out to learn 1) Satan's real and b) his hawtness (see what I did there?) was simping for me.

Gravity-free froth, high-concept silliness, and a pleasant but insubstantial afternoon’s entertainment. There are ZERO winks! Not one! It can be done, M/M romance writers...there is no need to lard the stupid things into your work.

I can see this giving especially religious types a terrible case of collywobbles because it does not take the Devil at all seriously. "There is REAL EVIL in the world! Don't be so flippant!" Yes, we all agree there is real evil...many of us, though, don't think it has horns and red skin. Still, for something set in a religious tradition I don't follow, it was a fun way to spend some screen time.

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

MR. FROSTY PANTS
LETA BLAKE (Home for the Holidays #1)
Self-published (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$5.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 3.75* of five, not *quite* up to a full four

The Publisher Says: Can true love warm his frozen heart?

When Casey Stevens went away to college four years ago, he ghosted on his straight best friend, Joel Vreeland. He hoped time and distance would lessen the unrequited affection he felt, but all it did was make him miss Joel more. Home for the holidays, Casey hopes they might find a way to be friends again. But Joel’s frosty reception reminds Casey of just how hard he had to fight to be Joel’s friend in the first place. It’s going to take a Christmas miracle to get past that cool façade again.

Joel isn’t as straight as Casey believes, and his years of pining for Casey have left him hurting and alone, caring for his abusive father and struggling to get by. Unable to trust anyone except his rescue dog—and with no reason to believe Casey is interested in him for more than a holiday fling—Joel’s icy heart might shatter before it can thaw.

Can Casey and Joel’s love overcome mistrust, parental rejection, class differences, and four long years apart?

Mr. Frosty Pants is a stand-alone, Christmas gay romance by Leta Blake featuring a virgin hero, childhood friends-to-lovers, second chance romance, and romantically steamy scenes.

I RECEIVED THIS FROM MY GOODREADS SECRET SANTA FOR YULE! THANK YOU, KIND ELF.

My Review: Five revolting w-bombs dropped. Why, I wonder, did the m/m romance writing community decide this was somehow okay?

A charmingly typical Holiday-themed Second Chance romance set in Knoxville, Tennessee. The Hallmark Movie Channel plot works exactly as you want, need, and expect. There is explicit sex so it’s not suitable for crossover straight reading, though it’s interesting that the grouchy character is the bottom! I was rooting for the couple to succeed because the family healing that had to come from it was for them both.

I found that I was more engrossed in Joel's struggles than in Casey's...I felt so bad for Joel for going back to the bad places with his "father" to see if he could get at least a crumb. That's terrible, and moving, and so very deeply sad to me. Joel's entire life was a search for connection, and Casey (after forcing him to accept Casey's affection) just ghosts the lad?! But honestly it was very believable, so I can't say more than "how sad and how real."

Worth the time and the effort to read, made of the Right Stuff, and presented with polished and pleasurable style.

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!

THE BARBARIAN DUET, two gay fantasy romances telling one couple's

WED TO THE BARBARIAN
KEIRA ANDREWS (The Barbarian Duet #1)
KA Books
$4.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Will an innocent prince forced into marriage choose passion?

Sheltered in the palace with his books, Jem’s life is peaceful. Even if he’s lonely and yearning for romance, the big, strong men he wants don’t crave small, timid princes.

Then he’s forced to marry a mysterious barbarian.

Jem must do his duty—even if it means being stuck with Cador, a brute who dismisses him as weak. Even if it means a fake marriage in name only for the sake of their homelands. Even if he must leave behind everything and everyone to journey to a forbidding island of ice and stone.

Even if there’s only one bed.

Alone with this wild—yet tender?—man, Jem discovers desire that burns hotter than he ever imagined. Can two strangers learn to trust, or will dangerous lies tear them apart?

Wed to the Barbarian by Keira Andrews is a gay romance fantasy featuring enemies to lovers, an age gap, forced proximity, first times, and of course a happy ending (eventually). This is the first action-adventure romance in the Barbarian Duet and must be read before The Barbarian’s Vow.


I RECEIVED THE DUET FROM AN EXCITED ELF. YOU WERE SO RIGHT: CAN’T BE WITHOUT BOTH!

My Review: I don’t recall reading anything by Keira Andrews before this duology, which honestly I think is best called a “Duet”...a choral piece for two voices, invoking lovely, layered harmonies and rich contrapuntal passages of musical intensity. There are things about it I didn’t enjoy, but on balance, this secondary-world fantasy is enjoyable and well worth reading.

Twenty-year-old Prince Jowan of Neuvella, in the land of Onan (!), is small, slight, and shy. He doesn’t particularly like his big, butch older brothers who have a history of playing pranks on him and making him feel picked on and targeted. His non-binary older sibling Santo is more to his taste, being artistic and far less hearty-big-guy. Jem, as he’s called by one and all, is very much a dreamer, a soft-hearted animal rescuer, a romance-fantasy-novel reader, and a deeply unwilling virgin. He’s at a seasonal summit meeting with his parents, the Queen of Neuvella and her consort; he’s bored out of his mind by the politicking and the ceremonial stuff. He decidedly is not bored by the barbarian hotties from newly-returned-to-the-fold Ergh to the north...he’s been eyeing one of them up pretty thoroughly, tall broad and handsome in his leathers and furs blond god Cador.

Unrepentant horndawg Cador can’t be arsed to look at anyone from Onan, effete little weaklings whose dark skins and eyes are signs of soft, luxurious living impossible in cold, northerly Ergh. But he, too, is bored out of his mind, and dreading his inevitable fate: Marrying one of the weakings, a Prince apparently called Jowan. Whichever one he is. But his tas, the Chieftain of Rusk and leader of Ergh, has made this marriage a duty he can not avoid...he doesn’t want to marry anyone, still less a foreigner, but he must or there will be dreadful, dreadful consequences, things that are bad will become terrible, unbearable.

And so the reindeer games begin! The culture of Onan (!) is sex positive, identity fluid, and clearly set for a major conflict. The royal alliance that’s being formalized here between Ergh and Neuvella (the one that’s about to be sprung on uninformed and unsuspecting Jem) is meant to solidify ties with the newly reunited with their polity “barbarians”. They’ve all come seeking trade, and other advantages that are revealed slowly over the course of the two stories. The cost is to be borne by Jem and Cador, unwilling husbands bound by the gods to serve their parents’ aims for their peoples.

What happens is a good story of young men who love their families and their ways of life, and whose sense of duty impels them to behave with all the honor and honesty they can in every situation. The obstacles to the pair becoming more than political mates are, bit by bit, overcome, climbed over, or worked around. They’re very, very compatible in bed. Their sex life is vigorous, once it begins. I don’t happen to like that kind of sex, not finding humiliation at all erotically enticing. Lots of flippity-flippity-flip until the “dirty talk” ended.

What I was invested in was these men’s world. I think their culture was interestingly drawn, with its clear and unambiguous rejection of binding gender roles and abundantly evident sexual freedom. The cultural conflicts over religion were framed interestingly...the clerics, male and female, are not particularly welcome in Ergh, whose people’s long-ago exodus from Onan (!) included leaving “the gods” behind. Now that there’s a major crisis in Ergh, the clerics have sought to use it to bring these lost folk back into the fold...and under the clerics’ power. This is not to Cador’s taste, nor to Jem’s, as it turns out. Neither man is eager to see the clerics expand their power over the people.

The time Jem spends in Ergh, where he and Cador live together in a rough unprincely manner, changes him. He is eager to be part of Cador’s world once their initial wary hostility is overcome, once they begin to accept and love each other for their unique selves. But there are secrets, ugly, terrible secrets, at the heart of his marriage to Cador. These come to light in hurtful, painful ways that re-open Jem’s barely healed trust wounds inflicted by his hearty dudebro brothers during his childhood. And then, as the true depths of the secrets is revealed, Jem’s new and fragile love for Cador is shattered.

That’s where this book ends, and my gift-giving friend said to me in giving me the second book, “can’t leave you without book two!” I protested then that of course, getting any gift was great!

I meant it. But, you see, I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about because I would’ve gone *stark*staring*MAD* if I hadn’t had book two to dive into the very second I finished book one. The story has a great hook for my readerly interests. Religious folk being the bad guys? Say hallelujah! But not being the bad guys because they are persecuting gay people for being gay? Bring the jubilee! This world, this secondary world of “love who you love and be who you are,” is one I’d read about all day long. The fact that the religious establishment is gender blind, solemnizes marriages between people with any plumbing whatever, and is *still* evil...well, it’s like the author ripped my convictions about the nature of religion out of my head and wrote them into this story.

It’s reasonably clear that there is some kind of interesting history to this world, permaybehaps one of colonization from Earth in a past not remembered. How else are there dark- and light-skinned people, living separately, but not divided along “racial” lines? The conflicts in this story are no less bitter and hateful, I grant you, but there’s no sign that the differing skin colors of Jem and Cador feature in any way in their societal conflict. That’s something I approve of, and of course the absence of sex-based or identity-based phobias is much to my liking as well. No sooner did I finish this read than I went on to book two.

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THE BARBARIAN'S VOW
KEIRA ANDREWS
KA Books
$4.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: He claimed an innocent prince—and surrendered his heart.

Cador only married a pampered prince from a faraway land to save his people. He never expected he’d grow to respect Jem. He never expected to find comfort with him. He never expected to want him with a fierce passion.

He never expected to fall in love.

Now Cador must secure his people’s future and win Jem’s heart. For without it, he has no future at all.

The Barbarian’s Vow by Keira Andrews is a gay romance fantasy featuring enemies to lovers, an age gap, forced proximity, first times, and of course a happy ending. This is the second and final action-adventure romance in the Barbarian Duet. Wed to the Barbarian must be read first.

I RECEIVED THE DUET FROM AN EXCITED ELF. YOU WERE SO RIGHT: CAN’T BE WITHOUT BOTH!

My Review: Finishing Jem’s and Cador’s story...after the ending of book one, I was wondering how the hell the author was going to get the necessary HEA out of the place she left us! And had my sweet elf not gifted me both of these books, I think I’d’ve behaved like Jem does in this book, scratching at my scalp until it bleeds just to distract myself from the awful agony within.

Luckily this was not necessary.

As the book opens, the badly betrayed Jem and contrite, desperate-to-reconcile Cador are embarking for Onan (!) to meet with Jem’s mother, the Queen of Neuvella, and the clerical hierarchy to solve the pressing issue that’s driven the entire plot. Cador’s initial reasons for marrying Jem have come to light and, as they were truly terrible reasons, base and cruel reasons, Jem is understandably not well disposed towards Cador. He is his husband...he is absolutely not Cador’s friend just now.

As this is a perfectly reasonable response to the things he’s discovered, the hurts that have been inflicted on him, there’s no blame attached to him for being as cold, withdrawn, snarky, and/or unkind as he’s got a mind to be. Yet here he is with Cador and several other of the Erghians who conspired to cause him serious harm. He’s actively working to solve this terrible problem. He’s got all the Good Boy Points in this scenario.

What transpires from the moment the ship lands can only be described as a clusterfuck. There is not a single, solitary moment when Jem (still angry at all the Erghians) and Cador (trying, trying hard, to make up with Jem) actually communicate. I get it, Author Andrews! Jem’s angry and hurt...but the number of silly and frankly incredible excuses made for them to stay away from having a real conversation stopped working around halfway through the book. It became ridiculous and repetitive.

There were a few other problematic things...Cador’s tas, the chieftain, being absent from his post while the place is in a crisis, for example...but honestly it’s just the silliness of the inner excuses and rationalizations (“I’m so tired, we’ll talk in the morning”) and external obstacles (...and then {someone} came pounding on the door! Or “the Queen commanded us to…”) put in the way of these men having a simple conversation that wore on me. The more there were the less credible they were.

Worldbuilding issues were present as well. Why, for example, are there maple trees and horses and chickens and goats and boars...but also sevel fruit and tew trees and dillywig birds? Speaking of sevel fruits, there is a reason that these are precious that is made obvious to us. But how the effect these fruits have could simply have gone unnoticed by humanity for so long is utterly unclear, unexplained. The issue of the condition sevel fruits prevent is one that has haunted humanity for millennia. It’s unlikely that people have forgotten it, given its horrors. And the moment Jem has his realization about the implications of the sevel fruit’s effects being known to some, withheld from others, really demands a lot more story space!

The ending of the tale was, to my mind, about the most encouraging part. For Jem and Cador, their prayers were answered, and for Ergh and Onan (!) as a whole, the best possible changes came about. With the leaders changing, the generations rolling into new grooves, it sounds to me like their futures are indeed bright. I was so enrapt in the story, so invested in its telling, that I am sure I’ll try more of Author Andrews’ stories soon. This duet being over, however, I bid my farewells to Cador and Jem and their families with a happy, wistful smile. If, by some good chance, I see there are new stories set in this world, I am so there!

Just stop with the revolting w-bombs.

BAND SINISTER, another QUILTBAG delight from K.J. Charles

BAND SINISTER
K.J. CHARLES
KJC Books
$3.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: Sir Philip Rookwood is the disgrace of the county. He’s a rake and an atheist, and the rumours about his hellfire club, the Murder, can only be spoken in whispers. (Orgies. It’s orgies.)

Guy Frisby and his sister Amanda live in rural seclusion after a family scandal. But when Amanda breaks her leg in a riding accident, she’s forced to recuperate at Rookwood Hall, where Sir Philip is hosting the Murder.

Guy rushes to protect her, but the Murder aren’t what he expects. They’re educated, fascinating people, and the notorious Sir Philip turns out to be charming, kind—and dangerously attractive.

In this private space where anything goes, the longings Guy has stifled all his life are impossible to resist...and so is Philip. But all too soon the rural rumour mill threatens both Guy and Amanda. The innocent country gentleman has lost his heart to the bastard baronet—but does he dare lose his reputation too?

My Review: I read this delightful fluff in a sitting. (A lying, to be more precise.) I'm pretty sure I was expecting the chuckles I got, but not the lesson in how to make explicit consent offered by the debauchee to the debaucher so well-integrated and even steamy. I've always contended that the largest sex organ is the brain, so really all it took was a bit of imaginative effort to make consent part of seduction and foreplay. Author Charles did this deftly, erotically, and satisfyingly.

I liked Guy, our virginal debauchee, more and more as time went by. He annoyed me to no end at first. I think he was expected to. His deep devotion to his younger sister was disarmingly sweet, so he wasn't one of those characters one wants to smack in the occiput with a niblick, but he did try my not-legendary (lack of) patience to its uttermost extent.

He looked different, he was sure. He looked as though he’d eaten the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, and everyone would be able to tell it on sight.

Rookwood is, not to put too fine a point on it, too good to be true. Beautiful, rich, thoughtful...*sigh*repine* (Speaking of rePineing, have y'all piped Chris Pine's lovely genitalia in Outlaw King on Netflix? If not, get thee hence! I suppose he had lines and stuff, but ya couldn't prove it by me.) So, Rookwood. Yes. Lovely man, his past is very deftly integrated into his present-day actions, as is Guy's; this being a KJ Charles book, that is unsurprising. She just does that. Part of the service. So why mention it? Because it's both satisfying and anachronistic for men to reveal their hurts and scars to...anyone, really...and Rookwood is an aristocrat, so his upbringing is simply not going to include emotional honesty. How Author Charles side-steps that issue is one of my great pleasures taken from this story.

Lord Corvin and John Raven, well, window dressing has never looked so good. Heh. Read the Society of Gentlemen books, y'all. Read KJ Charles. This is escapism done well.

“Country folk fuck,” Corvin said. “Well, they must; it’s not as if other entertainments present themselves. Plant things, dig things, knit things, fuck things. Make cheese.”

I laughed hard enough to forget (almost) the two (2) w-bombs Author Charles dropped on me.