Title: When London Snow Falls Author: Hayden Stone Genre: New Adult LGBTQ+ Contemporary Fiction
Charlie Renfrew’s life is a mess. Why else would he assume his hot little hook-up with dead-gorgeous Scottish musician Ben Campbell is some sex-deprived, latte-fueled hallucination? Now Charlie’s in serious danger of falling for a guy whose life—his world, really—is completely different from his. But during London’s icy winter, Charlie might just trade his caffeine addiction for something hotter, blonder, and completely up for anything…
More animal than mineral, Hayden Stone is a writer of fun queer fiction, especially with kissing. He currently lives in Victoria, Canada, and has previously lived in Vancouver, Canada and London, UK. He likes strong coffee and is owned by two cats. You can find out his latest news on Twitter or Instagram, or at his website
Three generations of heartbreak. One chance to heal old wounds.
“I never want to see you again!” Khrista didn’t believe her daughter when she stormed out of her life five years ago. But every day since, her daughter’s angry words have echoed in Khrista’s mind, even as she tries to hide the truth from her chosen family–the community that raised her.Finding solace in her preschool classroom by day and her whisky by night, Khrista is forced to confront her pride and her problems when someone from her past brings news that threatens to drive her deeper into the danger zone.
Kaelyn loves the life she built–doting husband, dream home by the beach, and a baby on the way. But when her long-lost grandmother contacts her out of the blue, life starts feeling off-kilter. She’s eager to have a blood relation to love, but meeting her grandmother again uncovers painful feelings about her own mother she keeps buried.
Estranged from her daughter and granddaughter for over twenty years, Daisy hasn’t had an easy life. But with the death of her abusive husband, she’s determined to start living. Step one: find her granddaughter, whom she hasn’t seen since the child was five. Maybe a reunion with Kaelyn will lead to mending fences with Khrista, too, and allow Daisy to rectify all the wrongs and fix everything before it’s too late.
Join the O’Donnell women on their quest for forgiveness and family and love.
Always in tune with her feelings, even when she wished he wouldn’t be, Oliver reached out his hand and gripped Kaelyn’s bare knee. The sensation of his rough fingers on her freshly shaved skin sent chills throughout her body, but mostly his gentle and comforting touch quieted her mind momentarily. If only she could bottle him up—his very essence—and take him like Xanax.
“Hey, love, you seem distant today. Is everything all right?”
She continued gazing out the window, not wanting to alarm him, but not sure how to express that everything could not be okay when so much of the world was falling to decay around them. He would laugh at her if he heard her thoughts and tell her that one nearly condemned property in an area of million-dollar homes did not mean something would go wrong with their baby.
She knew he would offer this assurance, and she knew she should believe him.
Instead of letting him into her thoughts as she normally did, Kaelyn muttered that she was okay. She hoped he would drop it and continue buzzing about the upcoming ultrasound. She needed his excitement. Needed his positive energy.
“Be honest with me, love. Are you having doubts about the baby?”
She gasped. “Of course not!”
Her sharpness made him jump, his shoulders rising in reaction to the startling noise that had emanated from deep within her body and cascaded out of her mouth in a roar.
She softened her tone and tried to smile. “This is the happiest accident ever.”
They had wanted kids together; they just hadn’t talked about when. She had missed a few birth control pills when things were crazy at work, but she hadn’t thought it would be a problem.
Her hand moved to her belly.
It wasn’t a problem. She was delighted. Nothing could keep her from feeling happy about this new life blossoming inside her. This baby may not have been planned, but he was far from an accident.
“It’s okay if you’re having worries or concerns. People go through all sorts of emotions when they find out their lives are going to change.”
“Are you having doubts?” She didn’t want to believe it could be true, but maybe Oliver’s questions were a way for him to open the door to admitting he thought going through with this pregnancy was a mistake.
As much as she loved him and practically worshiped him and his goodness, she would leave him if it meant saving her baby.
“My turn to say, ‘Of course not.’ I’ve never been happier. But if the daggers you’re flinging at me are any indication, I fear suddenly that my place in this family may be in jeopardy and you may kill me in my sleep if you sense I could have doubts.”
He laughed and squeezed her knee, and she so badly wanted to laugh as well.
A small chuckle may have wiggled its way from her throat, but if she actually did laugh, it was a product of being on social autopilot and not a reflection of joy or good humor.
Where was the joy and good humor she normally had?
She was happy, darn it! She had everything. Everything.
Amanda loves spending time with her adult children and her real-life hero. She is obsessed with bookstores, trees, elephants, castles, tea, and traveling (and a lot more, but she thought this should be brief.)
Amanda enjoys writing about complicated family dynamics, flawed characters who could be your friends, and healing hearts. But no matter how emotional the story may be, she prides herself on ending in the most uplifting way possible and maintaining hope through any hardship. Amanda is a USA Today best-selling author of romance under another name.
Amanda especially loves connecting with readers and inviting people into her “chosen family” circle. She welcomes you to sign up for her newsletter and to follow her on social media.
Title: Dear Isobel Author: Jinny Alexander Genre: Contemporary Fiction
Two marriages, a bucket full of dreams and a pile of broken hearts.
She’s not sharing her name. She’s been judged enough.
Once, she had it all: a supportive husband, lovely children, and a prestigious career revitalising failing businesses in the wake of Ireland’s recession.
When her friend Isobel suggested she take on a new job in their tiny rural community, she didn’t expect to fall in love.
Now she has become the other woman, the marriage wrecker, the cheat, and the betrayer.
When the illicit relationship ends, she’s stuck between the ruined affair and a crumbling marriage. Jobless and bereft, she must try to salvage what remains.
Will talking to Isobel help pick up the pieces or shatter their lives forever?
My tears anger her, she does not understand them. Nonetheless, it still catches me unawares, almost an entire week later, when I am the recipient of the emotional outburst bleeping into my inbox to inform me that my own emotional outbursts are unwelcome.
Dear Isobel,
Thank you for your emotional outburst to ask me not to have any emotional outbursts. It is good of you, as always, to tell me not to reply, just in case we begin an everlasting text conversation reminding each other not to have emotional outbursts.
Among the many things I cannot comprehend, I cannot comprehend her lack of understanding that this is an emotional time for me, as well as for her. How can she not understand I have lost the family I’ve known for the last four years and that her family have lost me? How can she not understand that for me to leave everything I ever wanted behind me, with the tears I shed on her doorstep, will undoubtedly make me cry and cry and cry? I know I am the cheater and not the cheated, but, at times like this, it still feels as if we have lost the same things, Isobel and me. I can still put myself in her shoes, so why can she no longer fit into mine? Her text is emotional, with misspellings and anger, and I can tell she has been drinking.
Dear Isobel,
You should hide your phone before you open wine.
There is an element of hypocrisy I must admit to, as I send this text with the uncomfortable knowledge that I, too, should hide my own wine, along with my phone.
Dear Isobel,
It is good of you to keep up this regular contact, approximately once weekly, I believe so far, to remind me not to have any contact with you. I appreciate it.
She clearly doesn’t realise I will think of her weekly even without her reminding me not to think of her. Daily, even. Hourly, in fact. I wonder will there ever come a time when she and Charles do not fill my thoughts in all my waking hours?
Dear Isobel,
Why don’t you realise that each time you contact me, it triggers a thousand memories, and I then spend far longer thinking of your husband than I was before your message came through?
Although I was pleased to have seen him, and to have spoken to him, while the girls had their lesson on that dark night, and to have remained calm and civil, I then go to bed thinking of him, and wishing it was not like this. I lie against my own husband—I drape my arms and legs around and across and over him—but it is not him I am thinking of as I fall asleep.
Dear Isobel,
Which of us is Charles thinking of as he lies next to you and falls asleep?
Jinny was first published in Horse and Pony magazine at the age of ten. She’s striving to achieve equal accolade now she’s (allegedly) a grown up. She secured a publishing deal in December 2020 and her first two novels will be released by Creative James Media in 2022.
Jinny teaches English as a foreign language to people all over the world, which gives her an endless source of new inspiration for stories. Her home for now is in rural Ireland, which she shares with her husband and far too many animals. Her two children have grown up and flown the nest – mostly. She quite likes to shut the door on them all and write.
