TITLE – Cole in His Stocking AUTHOR – Nya Rawlyns GENRE – Contemporary M/M romance, Holiday romance, novella PUBLICATION DATE – December 12, 2014 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 79/25659 PUBLISHER – PubRight COVER ARTIST – Sessha Batto
There’s no place more festive, more glorious than the Big Apple during the Holidays. Jake Richardson loves the city, loves the lights and the hustle and bustle … but being alone again has put a real damper on his Christmas spirit.
Cole O’Neil is marking time as he plans his escape to a new life in the country, doing what he’s always dreamed about. When he encounters Jake at a party, he’s completely unprepared for the vision with curly auburn hair and sinful green eyes.
What starts as an embarrassing accident sends both Cole and Jake on a journey of discovery, but with time running out will they be able to find the courage to accept the joy of the season and to believe in each other?
Sometimes it only takes a little Holiday magic.
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After an embarrassing incident at a party, Jake agrees to leave with Cole… sort of.
Jake gingerly minced his way to the mass of coats on the bed, pawed through the pile and extracted his tattered outerwear from the tower of similar Goodwill vintage cast-offs. The man who might be a serial killer helped him into the coat, smoothed the shoulders and settled the scarf around his neck. He made a double loop around Jake’s throat, then tucked it into the front of the coat and fingered the top button, all the while keeping his head down.
That was fine by Jake. The last thing he needed was to make eye contact and expose his soul to a stranger who had already opened him up to other possibilities, despite it not turning out exactly the way he might have hoped had he lived on another planet…
Planet gay guy scores.
Planet having somebody special for the holidays…
Hell, let me have that planet’s moon while I’m at it so I can wake up next to that special someone instead of me alone, clutching a pillow instead of a warm body.
Annoyed at the broken record that was his lot in life, Jake mumbled, “I’ve got it,” and did the unthinkable. He looked up, high enough to drink in the sight of thick lashes framing eyes the color of sin, a nose that had seen some action, rough skin bearing scars from the teenage scourge of acne, and a five o’clock dark growth Jake couldn’t manage even after a solid week of not shaving.
His gaydar meter stuttered to a stop in the face of so much masculinity. He might have swooned had the giant not taken his elbow and guided him out the door, down the steps, and into a wonderland of fresh slushy snow.
Name, name, what’s his name?
The man’s mouth twitched. “Cole. Cole O’Neil.” He held out his hand.
Writer, editor and hopeless romantic.
Nya Rawlyns has lived on a sailboat on the Chesapeake Bay, ridden more than 1000 miles in trail competitions on horseback, and been owned by two Newfoundlands. She is staff for a herd of cats and a herd of horses. She never met a potato chip she didn't like and she lifts weights - which is probably fortuitous as she really likes potato chips. But mostly she loves happy endings, even when she has to make them up.
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