Thank you so much for letting me visit you so I can share my news with your loyal readers.
Free books!
Pretty cool, eh?
So the deets—I’m launching an indie series in the fall. I’ve written a bunch of books for the serie,s and it’s time I put them out in the world. I’ve titled the series Mission City. Pretty simple, eh? (I’m Canadian…I just had to throw that in.) Anyway, in writing those books, I developed a number of secondary characters whose stories I couldn’t wait to tell. Ace’s Placeand Marcus’s Cadence are two of them. Characters from both stories have already appeared in several books published under the pen names Gabbi Grey and Gabbi Black. Although each story I write is a standalone, I like to interweave characters into the stories. I think it brings a richness and, to those who read across my genres, an opportunity to see old friends.
Today I’m letting your readers know about the two short stories—available on all platforms for free—and offering a contest. What is your favorite trope? What type of stories do you return to again and again? I’m a big fan of second chances. I’ve written age-gap. And many of my stories have a touch of angst (although not these two). Share your thoughts for a chance to win an audiobook of either Ace’s Place or Marcus’s Cadence—coming soon and narrated by the amazing Michael Dean. If you don’t listen to audiobooks, I’ll be happy to give you any book from my back catalog—Gabbi Grey or Gabbi Black.
Thanks for hosting me, Delilah. I love sharing my good news with your lovely readers!
Ace’s Place
Derek Murphy has come to the godforsaken small town of Merritt, British Columbia in search of a new beginning. The man is tired, jaded, and resigned to never having sex again. Until Friday night at the local sports bar changes everything.
Harold Graham, hometown boy made good, has lived in Merritt his entire life. When he meets the new guy in town, he’s compelled to reach out the hand of friendship. And maybe more.
But secrets and omissions cloud what could be the beginning of something special. Can they take a chance on being vulnerable enough to fall in love?
What happens when your biggest crush turns up on your doorstep after twelve years?
Cadence Crawford has a good thing going. He’s making waves as a realtor in Mission City, British Columbia. Yes, he’s recently suffered a personal loss, but he’s moving on, and his path forward includes selling the only true home he’s ever known.
Marcus Brannigan is doing fine. He has his physiotherapy practice, he watches over his younger twin sisters, and he’s happy. When he unexpectedly runs into Cadence, who is selling the home he’s always coveted, he’s prepared to do some negotiating.
Neither knew they were seriously crushing on each other. Now they’ve admitted the truth, is happily ever after in the cards?
Marcus’s Cadence is a 7k second-chance gay romance, instalove short story with a very happy ending and a malti-poo named Kiki.
Gabbi lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black and Gabbi Powell.
Thank you so much for hosting me today. I’m so excited to share the news of my new release.
Stanley’s Christmas Redemption has been quite a journey for me. Last year, I joined a charity anthology. I had mere days to write a novella, and mere hours to plan it out. I dove into a world I’ve created and tried to find a character whose story I could tell. My lumberjack-ginger-Scrooge-hero in Ginger Snapping All the Way had a jerk of an ex-boyfriend who left him while he was in the hospital dealing with a devastating injury. My mind whirled. What if that ass of an ex had a story? What if he had what he thought was a good reason for leaving? What would he have to do to redeem himself in the eyes of his former friends and, more importantly, in the eyes of his ex-boyfriend?
From that seed of an idea came a novella. But readers wanted more. They felt the length didn’t do the story justice. They wanted more of Stanley. (By the way, always be careful of the name you choose for throwaway characters—I don’t know if I would’ve chosen Stanley if I’d know the man was going to get his own book—that being said, the name has grown on me.) As I sat down to tell Stanley’s story, more came to me. My sweet spot for writing novels in 72k to 85k words. Stanley topped out at 85k, yet I don’t feel any of it was padding. I needed that space to tell the story of a selfish man, a caring counselor, and an orphan boy desperately in need of a loving home. Yes, the book is a love story—the happily ever after was guaranteed. The real question was—could Stanley be redeemed? I invite readers to check out the book and see for themselves.
In honor of my visit today, I would love to give out a $5 GC to one of your devoted followers.
Tell me, as a reader, do you believe a villain in one book can be a hero/heroine in the next? Can you think of another story where that’s happened? If that question doesn’t tickle your fancy, how about audiobooks? Do you listen to them? Is there one that stands out in your mind as one you would recommend to other listeners?
Again, thank you for hosting me, Delilah. I always love visiting you and sharing news with your followers.
Stanley’s Christmas Redemption
Stanley
I have life figured out—a good job, a nice car, and an ex-boyfriend whose heart I broke. But then my half-brother dies unexpectedly, and I go back to our hometown to settle his affairs. A quick trip before Christmas. Instead, I get the shock of my life. Do I face this new challenge or do what I’ve always done—run? Or will I stay and get to know the most amazing man I’ve ever met and take on a responsibility I’ve never dreamed of facing? This will be a holiday season like no other.
Justin
I’m a therapist who helps people deal with grief. My life is fulfilling. So what if I’ve been single for years? I have the kids I counsel and co-workers I adore. Maybe I’m tired of going home to an empty house and not looking forward to another Christmas alone. But I’m not going to be taken in by some slick city guy who can’t wait to leave town. I’m not going to upend my life just because I’ve met the man of my dreams. Right?
This is an 85k opposites-attract instalove mid-angst gay romance novel. Previously published in the charity anthology Secret Santa: A Romance Collection, the story has quadrupled in size with more love, laughs, and a touch of Christmas magic.
Gabbi lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black.
Thank you, Delilah, for hosting me today. You’re very kind.
I’ll admit a secret – I didn’t think the current war would happen. I follow politics and world events, and I couldn’t conceive of this happening. From the beginning—from the first bombs falling—my worldview changed. I felt powerless and, as atrocities continue, my heart breaks a little more each day.
So, what could I do? I can’t influence politicians. I can’t solve the crisis. And asking for world peace, although laudable, isn’t realistic. I donated to a worthy cause. I reached out to my Ukrainian friends to offer unconditional support. But I continued to feel powerless.
Then a friend told me Dakota Willink was putting together an anthology to benefit Ukraine. I’d seen several before, but this one provided me an opportunity to sign up. I immediately threw my name into the ring. I’d written a novella previously for another charity anthology, so I knew I was capable of writing a 10k word story in a short period of time. And I have a world to set that story in, so that was easy.
Still, I wanted to do more. I have another pen name, under which I write very different books. I asked them if I could write a second story, and they agreed. In fact, I’m not the only author who’s done that. With my task at hand, I sat down at the keyboard.
To be clear, none of these stories are about the conflict. We recognize that it’s far too painful for many readers to tackle at this point. But love? Our readers are always up for reading about love. The stories span broad categories such as contemporary, paranormal, and dark, and delve a little deeper into gay or BDSM or other subgenres. There’s something in here for everyone.
My first story is The Lightkeeper’s Love Affair. From my description, it’s a 10k lighthearted gay romance with forced proximity, a loner, a future schoolteacher, and Buddy, the adorable beagle. So, a little something for everyone. The story takes place in a fictional world I’ve created in British Columbia, Canada, and has some familiar sights to those from here. If you’re not, I invite you to immerse yourself. This book is under my pen name Gabbi Grey.
My second story, Toronto Tryst, is also, clearly, based in Canada. I’m showing my roots. Again, from the description, this is a 5k word BDSM-light romance short story with a surprise that will delight. My dark erotic BDSM series, under the pen name Gabbi Black, is, frankly, very dark. It touches on black places but always with a happy ending. That series takes place in Vancouver. The final book in the trilogy is coming out early next year, so I didn’t want to disrupt the series. Yet I wanted to write the story for the anthology. My solution? Pull someone from the BDSM club on the west coast and transport them to Toronto for a nice evening of fun. Don’t be afraid of the BDSM—this is definitely a fluffy read. A nice sampler for those who are new to the subgenre, and a amusing story for those who are more familiar with it.
Obviously, I’d love if everyone purchases a copy of the anthology. It contains hundreds of thousands of words—all written by authors who just want to do their part. 100% of the proceeds go to United Help Ukraine.
Thank you again, Delilah, for giving me a place to share my great news. I would love to give a $10 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky commentator.
Let me know your favorite romance trope! Mine turn out to be instalove and forced proximity. And a dog (or cat). I know pets aren’t a trope, but I just always have to throw one in. Share your thoughts for a chance to win!
Seeds of Love: A Romance Charity Anthology to Benefit Ukraine Synopsis
You can help us make a difference.
SEEDS OF LOVE is a romance anthology to benefit Ukraine. This collection of short romance stories is not available anywhere else. 100% of the royalties will be donated to United Help Ukraine, a charitable organization dedicated to helping the Ukrainian people affected by Russia’s invasion. They are a grassroots, entirely volunteer-based organization that provides aid to wounded Ukrainian warriors, assistance to their families, and support to internally displaced people.
This anthology features 48 authors. The stories include various sub-genres of contemporary romance, paranormal romance, dark romance, and romantic comedy.
SEEDS OF LOVE is only available for a limited time! Stand with the people of Ukraine and get your copy today!
Hello all! My name is Jaiyde Thomas, and I am an indie author of mm romance. I love books with lots of angst, a character-driven plot, and of course, lots and lots of sex or BDSM scenes. My favorite romance tropes are hurt/comfort and first-time gay, and I’m a sucker for happily-ever-afters. What I wish to see more in fiction, whether it be TV or books, are disabled characters.
I have been blind since birth. I was told that because I was born premature (1lb. 6oz.), I was placed into an incubator to help with my growth and development. Too much oxygen to my brain led to my cause of blindness, retinopathy of prematurity, which is an eye disease that causes abnormal blood vessels to grow in the retina in premature babies. I was in the hospital for two months before my mother was allowed to take me home. At some point, I was also diagnosed with glaucoma, which is increased pressure in the eyeball that causes vision loss.
Being blind had its challenges and its advantages. As a young child, I had moments of doubt because of my disability, and I felt I was different when I was around sighted peers or family. I had many passions as a young girl that kept me feeling normal, and one of them was reading. The Library for the Blind would send me stacks of books, and I would sit on the floor and devour all that I could. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even take off my shoes after school, or I’d be late for dinner, my Granny having to call me multiple times before I understood: stop reading and come eat. Then, I was allowed one day to bring a Braillewriter home from school, and that started my writing journey.
I won’t bore you with my entire life story, but I started writing songs and short stories at around age nine. Then, in seventh grade, I decided to write my first story about a teenage pregnancy. When I became bored with that, I wrote a seven-story series based off my own experiences in high school. In one of them, the main character is blind for a few months, but regains her sight soon after. I wanted her to deal with what I was in real life.
In 2020, under my other pen name, Kelanie Black, I created The Red Lair book series. The focus for this was to show that disabled people, such as the blind, could explore BDSM just like sighted people. Each book had one or two blind characters, each dealing with their exploration of the lifestyle and disability in a different way. After the series was completed, I had decided to try my hand at a new genre: mm romance.
A question online made me push forward writing disabled characters. I will address it below:
Why do you always write about blind people?
Firstly, I don’t believe that we as disabled persons get enough recognition. In TV shows and movies, there are some, but they only have a small role where they are seen and forgotten about, or the disabilities are portrayed inaccurately. I haven’t read a book that includes sex and disabled characters, but I’m sure they’re out there.
Secondly, BDSM is stigmatized just like blind people having sex. People think that because we are blind that someone has to help us all the time and watch over us 24/7. That’s far from the truth! I know many blind people who enjoy sex and BDSM and don’t have a sighted person with them to guide them. We are just normal people, we just do things a bit differently, and we may need accommodations to do them, but we still get things done.
Finally, I write about blind people exploring the BDSM lifestyle so that I can educate others. If you aren’t blind, you wouldn’t know what the day-to-day experience of a disabled person is like. I encourage questions, comments, and even feedback regarding blindness, BDSM, accessibility, because how will you learn if you don’t ask?
Thank you so much for having me! I will post my socials below, and please feel free to follow, friend, and PM me with anything of interest that catches your eye from this post or questions.
When I started writing The Fourth State of Matter, I intended for it to be a poly relationship between a human and two alien characters. However, as I was coming up with the characters I ran into a problem. I couldn’t decide how to design the aliens.
My writing process is usually to start by drawing the characters first. If I can draw them that means I can envision them clearly enough to write about them. I went through several different designs for the aliens, and eventually whittled it down to three different ones.
Then, as I was debating which of the three designs to discard, a thought occurred to me. Why do I have to choose at all?
And so, my ménage à trois became a ménage à quatre.
The Fourth State of Matter is a story that explores the intricacies of an atypical relationship. These characters proudly rebel against the norm, but that doesn’t mean they are free from conflict. There is plenty of drama to be found, both internally and externally. From personal conflicts of self-worth to government agents trying to split our main characters apart, this story features a little of everything.
Between these pages you’ll also find a great sci-fi story, steamy foursome sex scenes between a human and his three alien lovers, and a psychological exploration of what it means to be human. If any of this sounds like your cup of tea, then check out The Fourth State of Matter.
The Fourth State of Matter
Earth is dead. Humanity survives by selling the only resource available—themselves. 2689 has signed away his rights as a living being and become décor, living artwork that rich aliens use to decorate their homes. It’s a stable existence but a boring one. Until one day his owner plays host to three unexpected guests. Large, loud, and more potent than anything 2689 has ever experienced, this trio of ship-dwellers from the wrong side of the universe awakens a desire he can’t ignore.
However, blissful days of sex and companionship with Brog, Desmodian, and Xavis come to an end when 2689 discovers a plot that could land the trio in jail…or worse. 2689 will have to make a choice—stay silent and allow three innocent lives to be ruined or give up his stable life to protect the ones he loves.
I have an admission to make—I was never a fan of instalove. I mean, how do two people meet and just, like, know? To me, love takes time. Time to get to know the other person. Time to figure out if you’re compatible with them. Time to sort through all the baggage you both are carrying. (Because you don’t get to my age without some serious baggage…)
Maybe I’m showing my age.
When I sit down and put pen to paper, though, logic and common-sense fly right out the window. Of course, my couples are going to meet and know. Of course, everything is going to go right. Of course, there’s going to be a dark moment of the soul when all looks lost. Of course, they’re going to wind up together.
Now, in my mind, these progressions happen gradually. There might be attraction, but the characters have to work through their deep emotional wounds before they can find their happily ever after. And I do love to make my characters suffer. What’s the worst thing that can happen? Make that happen. Think things can’t get worse? They can. But I’m always working toward the happily ever after.
Up until this latest release, all my stories were novellas. Longer than a short story. Shorter than a novel. A nice in-between place. The problem? Between the emotional wounds and the action of the tale, that’s a lot of story to fit into a tight package. Readers have assured me I’ve done it well. Reviewers have decried “instalove”.
Ginger Snapping All the Way was supposed to be different. It’s my first full-length gay romance. The plan was for it to be a novella, but the story quickly got away from me, and writing long was my only option. I don’t regret it. I love this book. I believed since the book was longer, I could avoid some of the instalove criticism. Except, it’s not the length of the story, but the length of the time the characters are together that determines instalove. Yes, Maddox and Ravi are only together three days before they figure it out. They know. And yeah, that makes it instalove.
So, heap on the criticism. Decry that it’s not realistic. I’ll stand by my story. These guys fought hard to be in a place to accept love. Love that is freely given. Love with no expectations. A true happily ever after.
And, of course, a cute dog.
I would love to know what you think about instalove. Drop me a comment for a chance to win a $5 Amazon GC.
Ginger Snapping All the Way
Maddox
I’m not a fan of Christmas. I’m happy to stay up in my mountain cabin and let the silly season pass me by. But when a friend asks for a favor, I can’t say no. Now I’m stuck in my cabin during a snowstorm, trapped with the most beautiful man I’ve ever met—who can’t wait to get away. He just might break my heart when he goes.
Ravi
I’m racing to get home for the birth of my goddaughter when mechanical troubles force my plane’s emergency landing. There are no beds at the inn due to a horrendous storm, but a friend says she knows a guy who won’t mind putting me up until the bad weather passes. Now I’m trapped with that man, and I must decide if I stay, hiding from the rest of the world, or go and face my past to earn a shot at my happily ever after.
This is a 72k word, hurt/comfort, lumberjack/nurse, grumpy/sunshine, forced proximity MM romance novel with a moderate amount of angst.
He grinned. “Take fifteen.” He headed to the bathroom while I detoured to the walk-in closet to snag my terry towel bathrobe, and then I shoved my feet into my faux sheepskin lined leather slippers—a gift from Hillary. I’d be chilly by the time Princess did her job, but Ravi’d warm me up right quick. I opened the door to find my pooch planted at the door, tapping her metaphorical paw.
She’d obviously heard voices and decided she’d been patient long enough.
I ruffled the fur on the top of her heard and she gave me the stink eye. Ah, so all was not forgiven. Hard to say whether the bribery bone was going to get me back into her good books.
She followed me as I headed down the stairs, flipping on lights as I went.
Her nails clacked on the hardwood floor.
Time to trim them again.
One of the few things I didn’t enjoy as her owner. The thought of cutting her to the quick terrified me, but the alternative was going into town to the groomer’s and that was too much peopling for me.
Man, I really had to re-examine my life. If taking care of Sofia meant going into town, I should make the effort. She was probably due for some shots as well. I’d call Dr. Zephyra’s vet clinic and make an appointment for her. I opened the back door and was hit with a blast of frigid air.
Sofia balked.
I nudged her gently with my toe.
She glared.
I pointed.
She shrugged. And finally stepped out.
The nice square I’d cleared yesterday had almost another foot. All while we’d slept. Uh, thank you, universe. This meant I’d get my delicious gorgeous man for another day. Yum. I had plans. So many plans.
My stomach rumbled. I considered. Okay, yeah, dinner’d been about eleven hours ago. But I didn’t want to stop for food. I didn’t want to stop for anything. Princess Sofia finally squatted, and I did an inner cheer. My legs were turning into ice as she deigned to do her business. And with all the snow that’d accumulated against her belly, I now needed to grab a towel. More time. It would take more time to dry her off, and I needed more time with Ravi. Was I allowed to hope the snow never stopped?
Sofia tried to dodge around my legs, but I was quicker. I halted her progress and kept one hand clutching her collar while the other closed and locked the door. I snagged her towel, and she gave me a baleful look. Seriously? If someone offered to rub me down and I was wet, I certainly wouldn’t complain. Especially if that someone had tan skin, deep dark-brown eyes, and a killer smile.
My cock sat up and took notice at that thought. Sighing, I wrapped Sofia in the towel and rubbed vigorously, all the while thinking of other things I’d love to rub. When she was drier, I put her down.
She bolted for her bowl and nosed her very expensive kibble. And gave me that look.
I swear to God, the dog was psychic. Or I’d given in to her demands once too often—I wasn’t sure which. I moved to the cupboard and pulled down the very expensive wet food. And cursed. I hadn’t brushed her teeth the last two nights. After a very expensive dental bill, I’d decided I’d rather brush her teeth every night than lose another thousand bucks. It’d also cost her three teeth. That was really the determining factor.
And she didn’t really fight anymore. She just liked to put on a good show.
Sighing, I dumped the food into a bowl and separated it into Sofia-appropriate sized bites. I barely put the bowl on the floor before she’d scarfed most of it down. No delicacy here—she ate like a starving wolf after a long winter. Or like she hadn’t been fed for a month. Sheesh.
Hot chocolate. And ginger snap cookies.
I pulled the milk from the fridge, then grabbed two mugs. It took entirely too long to prepare two mugs, but in the meantime, I grabbed a sandwich bag and added four cookies. I’d prefer presenting the cookies on a nice plate Hillary had insisted on giving me—because she insisted I would eventually have company—but two mugs and a plate was just too much to carry. I doubted Ravi’d care how I presented the cookies.
I snagged Sofia’s wet-food bowl off the floor and put it into the dishwasher. Then I selected a small frozen soup bone for her.
Her eyes lit with glee—a double treat.
Enjoy it, pooch.
Not going to happen again any time soon.
Unless Ravi stays…
Nope, not going there.
I held out the bone, and she angled her head to grab it with her little teeth.
She made a beeline to her bed in front of the fireplace. She dropped the bone and sniffed it, clearly trying to decide the best way to approach this.
About the Author
Gabbi lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black.
December is for wishes, whether it be gifts we desire or things we hope for in the next year. And sometimes, we are given things we newer knew to wish for.
Take Aaron, for example. He seems to have everything a person could want: he’s good-looking, a powerful witch, and his family is rich. He goes to wintry Fairview to look for a missing girl.
Then there’s Ilya. Ilya’s a bartender who likes his job. He’s also a banshee and mildly psychic, but he doesn’t tell people about that, because it makes him a target, desirable for his skill.
These two men run into each other, and while the reason for their meeting isn’t a happy one, they do get something out of it: each other. But not without a fight. Not without a risk.
Meet Aaron and Ilya this holiday season in The Night Bartender.
The Night Bartender (Fairview Chronicles 9)
Ilya stays safe by trusting no one, but Aaron, a wealthy witch, makes Ilya want to trust.
Aaron has come to Fairview to find his ex’s teenage sister, who went missing in the city. As a witch both rich and powerful, Aaron follows a trail that leads him to a bar frequented by supernaturals and to a bartender who attracts Aaron’s attention — and not just because the bartender is keeping something from Aaron. When Aaron runs out of leads, he follows the mysterious and pretty bartender, and the next thing Aaron knows, he’s foiling an attempted abduction.
Ilya has built a quiet life in Fairview mixing drinks and flying under the radar. He is a banshee, and the psychic ability and mild telepathy that comes with that makes Ilya a sought-after commodity. That carefully constructed life Ilya built for himself breaks into a thousand pieces when a handsome witch starts asking questions and becomes Ilya’s rescuer mere hours after they meet.
The witch, Aaron, vows to protect Ilya and to keep his secret. Now Ilya has to decide whether he will give Aaron his trust and risk a lonely but safe life as a night bartender in a wintry city in which people disappear only to then turn up murdered.
Aaron buried his hands in his coat pockets and gave the bleak Fairview midday sky a hard look. Not that the sky gave much of a damn. It was late November, just after the Thanksgiving weekend, and for most of the morning, it had sleeted in a way Aaron had never before experienced in his life. It was like a hot shower, except the cold, freezing water got all the way through to your skin and passed the cold to every inch of your body.
“Damn city just might be cursed with bad weather,” Aaron mumbled as he walked along a street in the Old Town, which should lead him to a bar friendly to the not-quite-human clientele if his online research skills hadn’t failed him. A deep black cloud caught his attention. It zapped across the horizon as if blown by a particularly vicious breeze. Aaron frowned before he picked up his pace. The sooner I’m done here, the sooner I can go back to Morrowvale where November doesn’t suck so bad your balls want to freeze off in surrender, he thought.
In all honesty, Fairview wasn’t a bad place. The city itself was nice enough. The parks and trees here littered the streets with the bones of leaves turning to sludge in the puddles left from the earlier sleet showers, and the people, while ignoring both other people and the suck-tastic weather, dressed a little nicer than the average Morrowvaler. Aaron had also never had Japanese food as good as he’d had an hour ago in a small, unassuming place he’d accidentally walked into, at least not outside Japan. That counted for something, at least in Aaron’s book.
Traffic was in what passed for a bit of a midday lull in Fairview. The honking had ebbed to a not-eardrum-shattering noise, and Aaron managed to cross the street without it feeling like he was gambling with his life.
The Ragdoll was a basement bar, and if Aaron hadn’t been looking for it, he probably would have missed the small neon sign that was either broken or just off this early in the day. A wrought-iron fence further hid the sign and the door, which lay at the bottom of a flight of stairs. This could be a private gambling den or the hideout of a bunch of Russian spies, Aaron thought.
He walked down the stairs and pulled the door open just as another sleet shower was getting ready to wash the streets and everyone walking outside with icy wetness. Aaron shivered as he crossed the threshold and blinked into the softly lit bar.
Last week’s Thanksgiving paper turkeys and fall-colored garlands were still up, though a busboy collected the decorations into a cardboard box labeled “Turkey Day” in black sharpie. There were no Russian spies and no gambling going on here.
Surprisingly, there were several patrons in the bar this early in the day. Aaron spotted a handful starting their day’s drinking early, but most nursed mugs of coffee or were digging into sandwiches which, admittedly, looked better than was right in a basement bar. Judging by their business suits, those were just office workers who knew where the good sandwiches were at. The music was pop, playing just loud enough to offer background noise without becoming obnoxious. This place, despite the outward appearance, looked hip, trendy even. Fucking Fairview. This city is as confusing as a clown at a dinner party, Aaron thought.
Aaron’s fingers closed around the talisman in his pocket. With his touch and the smallest pinch of magic, he felt the worked metal coin activate and the spellbound to it sizzle to life. Three people, including the strawberry-blonde girl behind the bar, whipped their heads around to look at him. So, this place really is supernatural friendly, Aaron thought. The talisman heated rapidly in his pocket. And Dora definitely was here before she disappeared.
That confirmed, he let go of the talisman and walked straight to the bartender. The other two patrons who’d noticed his magic had gone back to ignoring him like the good Fairviewers they were.
“Hi,” Aaron said, giving the strawberry blonde his best winning smile. “What’s good here?”
She shrugged. “Depends on whether it’s drink-o’clock in your world or not. If not, the pumpkin spice latte kills. If yes, you look like a Macallan kind of guy.”
Aaron grinned at her. “You’d be right about the whiskey, but I think I’ll go with the latte,” he told her.
He was doing his best with the charming vibes, which usually worked even if he turned it on women, but the bartender just nodded and went about preparing his coffee. Aaron watched her, more interested in the fact that she was making coffee at a bar decked out with an impressive assortment of liquor than anything else. The coffee machine was one of those intimidating ones that took up some primo counter real estate, and from the looks of it, it saw some use.
When she was done, she brought the latte over to him and puffed a dash of cinnamon over the foamy top right in front of him. The warm scent of the spice immediately made Aaron feel just a little more optimistic about everything. The mug was the cutesy kind with a grinning, red-nosed reindeer on the side.
“There you go,” she said with little enthusiasm, though not exactly unfriendly.
“Thanks, miss,” Aaron said. Before she could walk away again, he focused on her instead of the latte. “Could I ask you something?”
“I’m guessing I’m not your type, so go right ahead,” she said.
Aaron’s eyes widened, and it was the girl’s turn to chuckle. “Half-succubus,” she said in a whisper. “The gay-dar is practically built-in.”
He nodded, fighting the color rising to his cheeks. “Right. Makes sense.” Aaron cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you’ve seen this girl,” he said and pulled the photo Patrick had given him from his pocket. It showed Dora smiling, her blond hair shimmering in the sun.
The half-succubus took a look, then shook her head. “No, sorry. Friend of yours?”
“My ex’s sister, believe it or not,” Aaron said. “She went missing, and I tracked her first to Fairview, and now here.” Aaron had the cellphone gods to thank for that. It made using his magic almost unnecessary, although Aaron still liked to confirm the actual person had been to a place, not just their phone, hence his talisman.
About Alexa Piper
Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them.
Being blind had its challenges and its advantages. As a young child, I had moments of doubt because of my disability, and I felt I was different when I was around sighted peers or family. I had many passions as a young girl that kept me feeling normal, and one of them was reading. The Library for the Blind would send me stacks of books, and I would sit on the floor and devour all that I could. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even take off my shoes after school, or I’d be late for dinner, my Granny having to call me multiple times before I understood: stop reading and come eat. Then, I was allowed one day to bring a Braillewriter home from school, and that started my writing journey.
