A.E. Via – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

A.E. Via – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Wed, 13 May 2026 18:50:11 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png A.E. Via – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 White Ravens (Ravens #3) Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/white-ravens-ravens-3-read-online-a-e-via Wed, 13 May 2026 18:50:11 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/white-ravens-ravens-3-read-online-a-e-via Genre: Crime, M-M Romance, Suspense Authors: A.E. Via Series: Ravens Series by A.E. Via
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)

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Official Cover by Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art coming in March 2026
Subject to Earlier Release

They are the program’s failure who should’ve never left the lab alive.

Once leaders of rival gangs on Chicago’s south and west sides, Damien Calloway and Gage Harrington are pulled from their prison cells and promised a second chance to be reborn as Frost and Shade, the newest weapons in the Raven Program.

But as the science collapses, the transformation fails, leaving their enhancements unstable, and their conditioning incomplete.
Declared defective, they’re locked away in White Sector 30, to await elimination.
When two warriors clad in green storm the facility, the Whites don’t see rescuers, they see executioners, and with raw skill and desperation, they seize their freedom.

Now Frost and Shade are two enemies forced together—hostile, untrusting, and on the run.
One a phantom of cold fury and the other a phenomenon who sees the world in all white, guided only by instinct and the voice of the man who had once vowed to kill him.
Their bond may be shaky, but their coordination is terrifying.

The Whites were never meant to exist...now they’re the ghosts haunting the organization that failed them.

Raven's Stand-in cover designed by AE Via
Book Credits White Raven Image - Pub 9/13/2023 Credit Vovashevchuk
White Forest View -(Canon, EOS 5D Mark II): Pub 1/20/2017: Credit Chiro PhotoNic

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Black Ravens

Meridian

The Pacific air tasted like copper and salt.

Meridian crouched low on the perimeter wall of the cliffside villa, pausing to allow the night’s darkness to consume him.

Ten acres of imported marble, onyx, and triple-paned bulletproof glass sprawled down the rocky terrain until it reached the surf—a luxurious fortress of corrupted wealth.

The frigid wind pushed his hood against his cheek but couldn’t cool the heat that lived under his skin.

Always to his right, his partner, Ex, lay still on the slate roof—one shadow melded into another—watching the patrol pacing beneath them.

“Four outside,” their handler, Corvo, informed them through their undetectable earpieces.

Meridian listened to the timing of the guards’ boots hitting the cobblestone. Counted the cadence of their inhalations and cataloged the exhales. They were both distracted in the way boredom made most perimeter security officers. Not enough discipline and too much confidence behind the high walls.

One was tall and gaunt with sunken cheeks. The other was short, thick-necked, and carried too much weight. The last two seemed younger in the way they kept shifting their rifles as if they didn’t know what to do with them.

Ex brushed his gloved hand twice over his forearm: Ready.

Meridian answered with one tap: Go.

And the two men separated like oil meeting water.

Ex ghosted across the roof in a blur, as Meridian slid to the edge, and dropped silently onto the landing.

The tall one turned his head a fraction too late.

Meridian slammed his palm over the startled man’s mouth, raised his head to expose his slim throat, then unsheathed, sliced, and ended.

His Sakimaru, stiletto, double-edged dagger—Whisper—rested comfortably in his palm, a thirty-inch stalker that never made a sound.

The body fell to his feet, and Meridian stepped over it, as if what he’d done wasn’t murder, but just removing an obstacle from his path.

Across the patio, Ex appeared behind his mark’s back. In two swift moves, he gripped the younger guy’s jaw, cupped his other hand across the back of the neck, and wrenched it hard to the left, snapping the bone like dry timber.

He lowered the officer’s lanky body into the shrubbery as if he’d simply fallen asleep.

Meridian was already behind the pudgy one, who had the audacity to be scrolling on his phone. Unaware and unprepared. He deserved death.

He wrapped him in a chokehold that cut his voice, then his breath. Five seconds of resisting, ten until the pulse slowed, twenty to be sure before he let go.

The fourth one turned and Ex was there, blade in hand, and delivered one upward puncture beneath the rib cage. The guard’s last breath left his throat in a wet question of confusion.

The entrance to the villa was a display of indulgent taste bought with dirty money. Everything shone and reflected. Thankfully, his hood cut the shimmering down to a tolerable annoyance.

A long hallway, overcrowded with abstract art, led to a great room. Music mixed with the laughter and the moans of women came from somewhere deeper inside.

They crept in silence across the imported rugs, their heads on a swivel despite the confirmation from their handler that no other guards were present inside.

They paused at the archway of the primary suite, that had a sitting area and a massive bed on a raised platform covered in silk linens and naked women.

Their mark, Graham Graves—a prior Ravens investor, arms dealer, and plague in the US—lounged in the center of the bed, eyes closed, with his arms wrapped around two women’s waists, his mouth full of another woman’s breast, and the fourth kneeling between his legs.

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Fire and Smoke (Nothing Special #9) Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/fire-and-smoke-nothing-special-9-read-online-a-e-via Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:51:23 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/fire-and-smoke-nothing-special-9-read-online-a-e-via Genre: Crime, M-M Romance Authors: A.E. Via Series: Nothing Special Series by A.E. Via
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 82187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)

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“A ruthless meth dealer is torching Atlanta’s streets, and God and Day are striking back with two of Hollywood’s legendary pyro experts.”

The war raging through Atlanta isn’t just about drugs—it’s about power, leverage, and survival. God and Day’s task force is the only barrier standing between a growing plague and the city’s safety.

Wes and Law, childhood friends turned blacklisted pyrotechnic rivals, are hiding out in Atlanta until the fire they started in Hollywood is extinguished.

It seemed like a safe choice—until they’re dragged into the task force’s frontline fight. Now they’re trading cinematic special effects for real explosions and blood in the streets.

God and Day’s team is fracturing under secrets and betrayal, as the merciless army of their fiercest kingpin yet slowly closes in.

They used to fight to conquer… now they’re just fighting to survive

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

“Come on, man, cut me some slack. I’m asking for you to do me a solid.”

Law hated the plea and desperation in his voice, but he held eye contact.

“It’s a Honda Super, and she’s hardly two years old. All I want is eight thousand. She’s worth—”

“I know. Twenty-five. You already told me.” The bratty-looking kid rolled his eyes, then walked around to the other side of the bike. “Why are you selling it?”

None of your business.

“I’m moving overseas, and I can’t take everything. My Harley made the cut. The Super didn’t,” Law lied.

He’d sold the Harley last year to pay off three of his credit cards. Now he had nine paid and only two more to go.

“I’ll give you five thousand,” the guy countered.

Law shifted to the other foot to keep from cocking his fist back and punching the brat in his face. The number he’d just thrown out was an insult.

Law bit his bottom lip, staring down at his baby girl. He wanted to run his palm over the soft leather seat as she sat gleaming under the bright sunshine. She was all black on black, sleek, and outlined in sharp edges. A reflection of how he saw himself.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. We talked about the price before you got here. Eight thousand. Come on, man, you’ve been staring at it for fifteen minutes.”

“This thing could be hot for all I know. You live on this shitty street, and you’re sporting a shiner on that left eye.”

The kid pulled out a pack of Camels and leaned against his silver GT-R to light up while Law stood there sweating under the hot Atlanta sun.

“I have the title right here. You know it’s legit. I’m not taking less than eight, dude.”

Law clenched his teeth, gripping the DMV document and bill of sale so tightly he was probably ruining them.

He hated that he had to do this, but desperate times and all.

Law had been on top before, and he’d been knocked down plenty, so he knew how to pull himself back up. But pricks like the one in front of him made his blood boil.

Law stared the man down, who wasn’t even respecting him enough to look him in the eye as they negotiated.

Damn, he loathed rich bastards.

Law had money too—well, he used to—but he’d never acted like a pretentious asshole.

The guy held his arm up and motioned for a slim man waiting in a Ford pickup with a bike trailer attached to pull around front to load it up.

Law released a slow breath and played it cool because he didn’t want Richie Rich to see his relief. He desperately needed this money.

“Seven is my final offer. Take it, or I can head over to a used lot. This is a birthday gift for my stepbrother, so it’s nothing. I’m not spending eight grand on him.”

The guy Law was haggling with couldn’t’ve been any older than twenty-five, but of course, he carried himself as though he’d lived a lifetime and had all the power in the world.

He wore shredded denim jeans that stopped just above his expensive boots, and his jacket was leather and white, of all colors.

His sunglasses cost more than Law’s rent, and he knew that because he’d hocked his own pair just like them six months ago.

Law turned away and ran his hand through his hair that he hadn’t bothered to comb this morning. Instead of yanking himself bald, he shoved his hand into his pants pockets and took out an ink pen.

If he didn’t get two grand to Brosino by the end of the week, he was going to end up another loan shark statistic.

Law stared at the buyer with all the contempt he could muster before he finally relented and stuck his hand out. He hurried and scribbled the new amount on the bill of sale and initialed it.

At least he’d eat something besides ramen and hot dogs tonight.

“Just take it.”

Law thrust the papers into the bastard’s hand and snatched the envelope. He fingered the crisp bills while his bike was being walked up the trailer ramp by a man who was probably the kid’s personal assistant.

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Belladonna – A Gay Romance Soap Opera Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/belladonna-a-gay-romance-soap-opera-read-online-a-e-via Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:51:22 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/belladonna-a-gay-romance-soap-opera-read-online-a-e-via Genre: M-M Romance Authors: A.E. Via Advertisement

Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >69

What began as four short episodes is now a re-edited, revised tale with deeper characters, richer storylines, and 40,000 words of brand-new content, in color, woven into a full-length novel.

A gay romance soap opera of love, resilience, and redemption.

Atropa Belladonna—known as deadly nightshade—is the poison that ended Romeo and Juliet’s story of love and loss.
Thorn Maxwell knows heartbreak. It’s why he built Belladonna—a lavish, by-invitation-only oceanfront sanctuary—where men scarred by love’s cruelty, learn to safely risk their hearts again.

Within the walls of Thorn’s mansion, his gentlemen help restore hope, rekindle trust, and show men the kind of love that heals instead of destroys.Step inside Belladonna—where hearts bleed and heal, secrets smolder, passions ignite, and every episode unveils an unexpected twist.

This is NOT your average romance novel!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Pilot: Season 1, Episode 1

Breathing But Not Living

Downtown Norfolk, Virginia

Forty-Second Floor of the Bank of Tidewater

Lucas’s Office

Lucas’s phone ringing was shrill enough to jolt him from his daydreaming. He lifted the receiver, knowing it couldn’t be good news.

It never was at this hour.

“Lucas, I knew I’d find you in your office. Where else would you be? Your bitch of a lawyer really screwed me good, didn’t she? Did you know about the settlement offer?”

The voice of the man on the other end sounded like satin over sandpaper scraping at his heart—something he wished didn’t beat anymore.

Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose at the immediate pulse of tension blooming behind his eyes.

The leather of his chair creaked as he spun toward the window, seeking solace in the sprawling view of the city’s lights glittering on the black expanse of water.

Why did I even pick up the phone? Who else is going to call my office this late?

“How could you allow her to walk into that courtroom and leave me with nothing? Like I never mattered. Like I never meant anything to you.”

Lucas clenched his fists in his lap as the soft sniffles slid through the receiver, tugging at a hollowed-out place in his heart—a place where his spouse, where love, had once been.

“You don’t even care about how much I’m struggling, do you? I’ve had to start working as an event planner again.”

Lucas was silent, not trusting his voice not to crack.

He gazed absently at a lonely catamaran coasting along the Elizabeth River, drifting with the tide as if it had nowhere to be.

It was almost two in the morning, yet one boat floated alone in the middle of the dark body of water as if it had no dock of its own.

“Say something, dammit! Why are you doing this to me?” Adam screeched.

Lucas didn’t want to speak. He hadn’t heard his husband’s—ex-husband’s—voice in three months. Not since his divorce lawyer had filed a no-contact order to put a stop to Adam’s theatrics.

His ex would storm into his office mid-meeting, call at odd hours, throwing tantrums over money.

Yet here he was violating the order again, reciting the same argument as if the papers hadn’t been signed today, as if they weren’t officially over.

Lucas sighed as his stomach sank. It had always been about money. Lucas had been foolish to think a man as gorgeous as Adam would’ve wanted him for anything but.

Loosening his tie did nothing for the tightness in his throat. It wasn’t fabric choking him—it was humiliation, his obliterated pride.

However, he managed to croak out, “Adam. Why are you— You know you’re not supposed to be calling me.”

“I’ve always loved how you say my name. So strong and serious,” Adam purred.

Lucas hated that some stubborn part of him still heard it as sweet seduction.

“Don’t,” he demanded.

He may have been sad and lonely, but his mind could no longer be fucked with and manipulated by a sexy man.

“Let me come home. This has gone on long enough.”

“The papers were signed today, Adam. Our marriage is—” He bit down on the rest of that realization, pressing his fist to his lips.

“Why can’t you forgive me?” Adam yelled, making Lucas remove the receiver from his ear.

“It was one time! Once! All the times I forgave you for never showing up to my events, for standing me up on our anniversary night, for never taking me out on Valentine’s Day, or any day for that matter.”

“That’s not justification for what you did.”

“It is!” Adam snapped. “I even made us a date night, and you couldn’t even honor that.” He sniffled some more. “I was always sympathetic to your work, Lucas. I always understood that your business came first. Sometimes, I’d even bring you dinner when you worked late, remember?”

As if you cooked. You bought me overpriced gourmet takeout.

The back-and-forth was an old, toxic rhythm, yet the scars in his chest still felt raw, new.

He’d once loved Adam’s energy, his laugh, the way he lit up a room.

And Adam had loved being lit up in return—by gifts, by luxury, all the shine Lucas’s money could buy.

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Green Ravens (Ravens #2) Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/green-ravens-ravens-2-read-online-a-e-via Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:27:32 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/green-ravens-ravens-2-read-online-a-e-via Genre: M-M Romance, Thriller Authors: A.E. Via Series: Ravens Series by A.E. Via
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)

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They erased their memories, rewrote their names, and made them beasts. Now, the hunt for vengeance begins.

Chief Aiken Oakley and Chief Styles Sawyer—two of the US Navy’s most elite Special Warfare Combatant-craft officers—vanished after their mission was ambushed in South America and later presumed MIA.

Captured by the Raven’s organization, a covert assassin program, Oakley and Sawyer are stripped of their past, their memories, and even their names.
They are subjected to inhumane experimentation and injected with predator DNA that transform them into primal, lethal weapons… and are now known only as Valor and Zorion.

After breaking free from the program’s control, Valor and Zorion train themselves to master the beasts within them—pushing their minds, bodies, and instincts to the edge.

But to take down the corrupt organization, they’ll need more than strength, fury and an appetite for revenge. They'll have to form uneasy alliances with the two other deadly Raven units—the strategic, silent Browns, and the ruthless, unpredictable Blacks.

Together, these assassins must unite against the program that created them... and destroy it before it creates something worse.

Black, Brown, and Green Ravens… The organization turned them into weapons, and now they’ve come back for war.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

SWCC Chief Warrant Officer Styles Sawyer

Special Warfare Combatant Craft Chief Warrant Officer Styles Sawyer sat at the rear of the dank confines of one of the USS Rimlin’s strategy rooms with his crew standing behind him. He referred to deck one as the belly of the beast, though there were still multiple decks below him.

This was the section of the two hundred forty-four-foot-tall aircraft carrier where he was briefed on his missions, where he was thrown into the thick of it, into the world’s most dangerous situations, so it always felt like a room that swallowed him whole.

Over forty US SEALs and boat operators filled the space as they listened to the details of their upcoming mission.

An operation that was his specialty—personnel recovery.

“Three CIA agents were ambushed on their way back from their check-in point in Porto Velho.” The lieutenant nodded to another officer to change the images on the screen behind him. “Regrettably, two were killed, gunshots to the head, the other was abducted. The agents were acquiring information on the Woyashi terrorist group responsible for the Swiss embassy bombing and the assassination attempt on General Elias Silas. The abducted agent is believed to be in possession of a hard drive that holds classified information on Woyashi’s current dealings with a weapons of mass destruction physicist.”

The Lieutenant. paused. “Any questions?”

“Do we have any details on the abductee’s status, sir? Are they ambulatory?”

Sawyer recognized the lieutenant of one of the two Navy SEAL teams responsible for the breach. Meehaus was an absolute monster the second his boots hit the ground. The hostage was lucky to have him leading the charge.

“We don’t know his current condition, but we do know this group is ruthless and violent, and their methods of interrogation are brutal. So you’ll need to be prepared for a carry.”

Meehaus nodded.

The Lieutenant. waited to see if anyone else had something to ask or add, and when they didn’t, he began to go over the details of the SEALs’ drop site.

“Intel confirms the hostiles have a camp in Novo Aripuanã. They have heavy artillery so be prepared for return fire. Their numbers are roughly four or five dozen men, so watch your backs and each other’s.”

The mission specialist, Master Chief Robinson, motioned toward Sawyer.

“Because of the severity and threat level of this mission, we brought in two of the fleet’s best boat teams to pull you boys out of the trenches. Chariot, commanded by CWO Oakley, and Neptune, commanded by the infamous CWO Sawyer.”

There were a few “Hooyahs” and whoops thrown in their direction, especially at Oakley as he stood wide-legged with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his infamous light-hazel eyes shining pale yellow in the sunlight hidden behind a pair of gold-rimmed aviator shades.

The Lieutenant. dismissed them, and each team filed out of the room and went in their own directions.

Sawyer hung back to say a few words to Oakley. He hadn’t worked with him before, but his reputation preceded him.

Sawyer and his crew were notorious for skirting the rules, but when a mission operator called for the best, Sawyer was the one who answered. But he made no mistake that Oakley’s guys were in a very close second.

While Oakley had a conversation with a couple of boys from the SEAL team, Sawyer tried not to pay attention to the way the other boat chief filled out his fatigues.

He didn’t usually size up other men. Maybe it was hero worship.

“You ready to take a swim, chief?”

Sawyer jerked his head up to find Oakley’s attention square on him.

“Always ready,” he answered, taking Oakley’s outstretched palm and giving it a firm shake.

“What can I do ya for?”

Oakley had a deep voice, with a smooth baritone timbre.

“Well, it’s not often I meet a legend.” Sawyer smirked, staring at his own reflection in Oakley’s black lenses.

The room was dark as fuck, but he knew why Oakley hid that miraculous glare, or so he’d heard rumors. Apparently, the man caught quite a bit of ridicule for his eyes, being called everything from doll eyes to piss holes to oracles.

Oakley smirked. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, chief.”

Sawyer was stunned when Oakley turned his back on him and left the room without so much as a “see ya.”

Well fuck.

He’d heard Oakley wasn’t big on small talk. Sawyer supposed that was one thing he could mark as truth.

Instead of taking offense, he chalked it up to the looming mission. They were buckets up at zero eight hundred. Maybe Oakley wanted to be alone to get his head ready for the fight.

SWCC Chief Warrant Officer Aiken Oakley

“Well shit,” Oakley muttered on his way up the narrow stairs. “I was not expecting that.”

He’d heard a lot of stories about Chief Sawyer and his crew, about his bravery, his sharp thinking, and his unshakable duty to his men and his country. But what Oakley hadn’t heard was how fucking sexy he was.

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Before They Were Lovers Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/before-they-were-lovers-read-online-a-e-via Sun, 02 Mar 2025 13:35:13 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/before-they-were-lovers-read-online-a-e-via Genre: M-M Romance, Novella Authors: A.E. Via Advertisement

Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >28

Two warriors. One unbreakable bond. A love story in the making.

God is a hardened and confident alpha with emotional walls that keep him isolated. Day is quieter, more watchful, and looking to connect.

During their months at the Atlanta PD training academy, Day stealthily observes God’s raw power, his command of any situation, and the lethal marksmanship that makes him long for God to be his brother in arms on the force.

This origin story reveals the start of God and Day’s powerful, complicated relationship. It’s filled with tension, emotional growth, and the beginning of their legendary partnership.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Day

Day had always been able to blend into the background. It was no different for his time at the Atlanta PD training academy. He prided himself on that unique skill. It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable of being seen and or creating a scene, but he preferred to hide in the shadows, observing, calculating, and plotting.

He watched everyone else and learned from their fuckups or victories, but he kept his own ambitions to himself. The less people knew about him, the better.

But there was one person in the academy who’d been impossible for Day to take his eyes off.

Cadet Godfrey.

From the first training session, Day found himself captivated by him. He wasn’t just remarkable—he was intimidating. His presence commanded attention without him even trying.

Plenty of hotshot wannabe Sonny Crockett rookies in his class wanted to be the top recruit, but Godfrey carried himself in a way that said he didn’t give a damn about praise or status. He knew he was the shit, so why flaunt it?

Day was glad he wasn’t in Godfrey’s class because he wouldn’t be able to eye-fuck him the way he liked.

Day stood against the wall on the far side of the field during Godfrey’s physical fitness run. He was sprinting through the rigorous obstacle course, everyone else trailing several yards behind as if Godfrey did it nightly in his dreams.

Day licked his lips, staring at the way the fabric of Godfrey’s uniform clung to him in all the right places. His shoulders were broad and solid, and the sleeves of his navy blue T-shirt were stretched to their limits from his thick biceps. Big, strong legs that looked like they could hold up a building were pumping hard as Godfrey tore from one side of the field to the other.

Whether running tactical drills, breaking simulation records, or dominating the shooting range, Day had no doubt Godfrey would excel up the ranks quickly once assigned to a precinct.

The next evening, Day found himself observing Godfrey’s ballistics training exercise. Sure, he should be doing his own practicing or studying during his off time, but once again, he hadn’t been able to look away once he started.

Godfrey’s stance was perfect.

Damn, look at him.

His body seemed to align with the weapon, and his large palm appeared to swallow the basic Glock 17. Day could see him wielding a much bigger firearm.

He should be shooting a goddamn Smith & Wesson or a Desert Eagle.

Day had seen plenty of skilled shooters in his time. He’d worked in security most of his life, from mall cop to armored guard, now to police officer, but Godfrey was something else entirely. He was fluid, a blur of efficient movement. He didn’t waste an ounce of energy, no unnecessary motion, just the clean, sharp pull of the trigger and the bullet finding its bullseye each time.

Once Godfrey finished, several classmates applauded, but he just set his weapon down and walked away, ignoring the verbal accolades.

Day smirked, shaking his head.

Where the fuck did this guy come from?

Godfrey was walking in his direction, eyes forward, his stride long and confident. Day ducked his head and turned away as his obsession stormed past.

He even smelled good. Like sweat and a shitload of confidence. Fucking delicious.

Holy shit.

That was the closest Day had gotten to him.

Godfrey was handsome in a way that shouldn’t be. His face—seemingly weathered by years of tough living—was a landscape of scars and dark blond stubble. His features were sharp, rugged in a way that wasn’t conventionally handsome, yet he was.

Godfrey’s eyes—which said far more than the words he never spoke—were green and hard beneath a scowl so deeply embedded in his forehead Day wondered if he’d been born with it.

He didn’t know he could be attracted to the untamed, unrefined type, but Day was drawn to this man’s silent intensity.

An officer Day had been flirting with in the records department said Godfrey was from a Podunk county in the Deep South and had just completed four years in the military.

That was all his informant was willing to disclose unless Day was prepared to offer him something more than a quick peck on the lips. So Day hadn’t learned anything of substance about his crush.

Hell, he’d always loved a good challenge, a complex riddle that needed solving.

What are you scowling about, Godfrey?

Was there someone in his class that pissed him off, or did he have a general disdain for the world? Or was it there to keep people at a safe distance?

The next week, Day jogged across the campus to the gym where Godfrey and his class were scheduled for hand-to-hand combat training. If Day didn’t stop obsessing over this cadet, his little cutie in the admin office would start wanting far more than Day was willing to give him.

He eased inside the gym through the back doors and made his way to the top of the bleachers, where he’d have the best view.

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Cold Winter Nights Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/cold-winter-nights-read-online-a-e-via Wed, 25 Dec 2024 21:51:45 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/cold-winter-nights-read-online-a-e-via Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: A.E. Via Advertisement

Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >44

Beauregard Stone lives a life of solitude in the snow-blanketed town of Windeville, Maine. The burly, gruff lumberjack is a man of few words and even fewer smiles. He hasn’t spoken much since his husband died eight years ago. Now, each day bleeds into the next as Stone loses himself in his woodshop and lumber- hauling business. Returning to his empty cabin exhausted is how he survives his achingly lonely nights.
But when Royal Peterson, a burnt-out corporate finance executive from Manhattan, stumbles into Windeville everything changes. Royal has just left his high-pressure job after a medical scare, unsure what his future holds or what kind of life he even wants. In the tiny town, everything feels painfully slow and too peaceful—two things Royal didn’t even know existed. But there’s something about the place, the history, its friendly people, the vibrant winter holiday decorations, that calls to his soul.
Stone isn’t the kind of man who fawns over the strangers who wander into town, especially not ones who look like Royal. Stone’s too rough around the edges, convinced he’s too old, too grizzled, too broken for someone as young and gorgeous as Royal. But when he sees the same sadness in Royal’s warm brown eyes that’s reflected in his own, Stone’s defenses began to crumble. Something about Royal’s vulnerability tugs at his heart in ways he can’t explain.
As Stone and Royal’s paths continue to cross in unexpected ways, they start to realize healing and loving aren’t always as complicated as they seem. But just as their bond begins to grow, Royal faces a difficult choice: does he stay in Windeville, with its peace and simplicity, or does he return to his fast-paced life, leaving Stone to face the cold, lonely winter nights once again?

Stone knows the sting of loss better than anyone, but can he risk letting love in, only to lose it again?

Cold Winter Nights is a heartfelt hurt-comfort story of second chances, and the unexpected healing that comes from opening your soul to someone who’s just as broken as you are.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Stone

The creaking of log cabin walls and the crackling embers of the fading fire in Stone’s fireplace were his daily alarm clock. He’d gotten used to getting out of bed on cold winter mornings, no matter how icy the floor would feel when his bare feet touched it, he was no longer fazed.

He released a long breath that misted in front of his face like a ghost as an involuntary shiver raced through him as he made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the tap for the hot water and waited for the steam to fill the room. The cold had taken care of the stiffness between his thighs and by the time he finished his shower his sexual needs would again be a distant thought.

After a long shower, Stone dressed in his usual thermals underneath his thick flannel shirt—the plaid pattern a patchwork of hunter green and burgundy. The scent of pine and timber lingered in the fabric no matter how many times he washed it. And lastly, he pulled on a pair of rugged denims with reinforced knees made to withstand the rigors of his day.

The scent of dark roasting beans from his coffee pot filtered down the hall towards his bedroom, and the thought of the hot brew spurred him into motion.

His kitchen took up twenty percent of the open floor plan, which was odd since he didn’t use it. A sturdy butcher-block island he’d made, dominated the center, the top covered with deep groves and indents from the weight of heavy tools rather than pots and pans.

The hulking beast of a stove sat dusty and untouched, the same as the cast iron pots hanging above it.

His husband had been the cook, not him. Dan used to say Stone would burn the place down if he even turned on the stove, and their cabin was made of enough wood to feed it.

He made himself a cup of black coffee and sat at the dining table that doubled as an office. His workplace had the best view in the world he thought as he stared out of the wide windows surrounded by thick wooden frames.

His backyard was a postcard of white with specks of green peeking from beneath the snow-topped branches of miles of pine trees.

He opened his laptop to check his email to see if there were any responses to the help wanted ad he’d run in the local paper last week.

Thankfully, he had eight applicants. The six regular guys he kept on year-round would need the help for the upcoming winter festival.

It was time to start chopping Christmas trees for the Daniels’ Evergreen Cove holiday display. He’d had the contract for years and always looked forward to how busy that job kept him. Not to mention Mrs. Daniel’s venison chili that she regularly dished out after his deliveries.

He responded to each of the applicants and requested they meet him at his woodshop in town at noon. If any of them couldn’t make it, they wouldn’t be hired. Stone was only interested in available, reliable help.

He had two orders for his woodwork business.

Big Chuck wanted him to make a coat tree for his wife as a Christmas gift. Aimee had sent him an image of a coffee table she wanted him to replicate but to also “put his own uniqueness to it” and the last order was a simple footstool for Jojo.

Damn, girl, another one.

Joanne, nicknamed Jojo, worked mornings at the Cedar Pines Bed and Breakfast and was no taller than four-foot-ten and a hundred pounds soaking wet. She needed a footstool for every room in her house and place of employment.

Stone accepted all of them, and replied he’d come by later to get the details and provide a quote.

Before he could close his laptop, a OneDrive popup showed in the right corner of his screen.

A memory from 10 years ago, today.

He choked on his breath as the words pulled him down like a hidden rip current.

The thumbnail image wasn’t just any photo—it was one of their photos.

He could see Dan’s bright smile and his curly light brown hair he could never tame no matter how much product he used. Stone could still remember how comforting it was to run his fingers through it, the way the silken hairs of Dan’s thick beard would tickle his throat when they nestled together to watch television.

The photo had been taken the weekend they’d gone to Dan’s family estate in Williamsburg, Virginia. His folks had been vacationing in Europe, and they’d had the sprawling property all to themselves.

His parents would’ve been disgusted at some of the surfaces they’d made love on.

A lump formed in Stone’s chest so large he thought he was having a panic attack. It’d been eight years, and he still missed him so damn much he worked himself to the bone every day so he’d be too tired to think about it.

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Black and Brown (Ravens #1) Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/black-and-brown-ravens-1-read-online-a-e-via Wed, 30 Oct 2024 13:02:26 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/black-and-brown-ravens-1-read-online-a-e-via Genre: Dark, Insta-Love, M-M Romance Authors: A.E. Via Series: Ravens Series by A.E. Via
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >66

Grace’s composed, yet lethal disposition balances his partner Mirage’s impulsive nature, creating a duo—the second-generation Brown Ravens—with the potential for greatness.

Grace was one of the most decorated sharpshooters in the Marines. He’s fiercely committed to righting the wrongs that plague the world and protecting the innocent.
But there are too many rules and strict orders in the armed forces the Ravens don’t have.

Mirage left his world without a trace.

He has a brilliant mind and more degrees in science and medicine than one person could ever hope to obtain.
Now that the Ravens are done administering their treatments, Mirage can throw knives so fast they turn into phantom blades before he disappears in a way that leaves his enemies in chaos and confusion. And Grace can hit a target from three miles away.

When together, their form of silent communication in the field is astonishing. Grace’s subtle body movements speak their own language and his long, intense stares into Mirage’s grey eyes have created a special bond neither of them saw coming.
A forbidden romance that won’t stop them from being the second-best assassins in the world.

Triggers: Violence

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Mirage

With the deaths of his parents still plaguing his mind and paralyzing his heart, Matthew ignored the black-suited man who’d come into his sixty-square-foot room in Fort Bellmore Military Behavioral Facility—the shithole where they threw soldiers who’d snapped and lost their shit until whatever pompous superior determined them sane enough to return to duty or, more often than not, dishonorably discharged.

The man was out of uniform and had no badge or identification clipped to his lapel, so Matthew ignored him.

The visitor sat in the one chair in Matthew’s private room—he’d beat the sarcasm out of every roommate they gave him—and looked over a thick file he assumed was his for twenty-five minutes before uttering a single word.

When he did speak, he said the last thing Matthew expected.

“What would you do to be rid of the pain and anguish you’re feeling right now, Dr. Adams?”

Matthew clenched his fist so hard his knuckles popped as he stared out the plexiglass window.

“I assume I can use the title doctor now. There’s no reason to use your rank of lieutenant anymore.”

“Unless you want me to snap your neck in a place that leaves you alive but unable to speak again, I suggest you leave in the same manner you came. Silently.”

His unwanted visitor hummed as if he found the threat intriguing.

“The crippling heartbreak from the recent death of your parents is killing you and—”

Matthew yanked the plastic tray containing his untouched food and hurled it across the room, aiming for the man’s throat, but he dodged it with a quick jerk to his left.

His visitor’s expression remained impassive while continuing to stare at him as if he were still waiting for Matthew to answer his question.

“If only you could’ve thrown that so hard and fast that there’d been no way I could’ve dodged it, maybe even decapitated me.”

I wish.

The mysterious man in the expensive suit and gelled hair closed the file and tossed it onto the thin mattress Matthew never slept on.

He narrowed his eyes, not appreciating the taunt, and turned back toward the window.

He preferred the view of the brick wall next door rather than the condescending prick asking him asinine questions.

“Fuckin’ leave now,” Matthew sighed.

His voice was raspy due to his lack of hydration, and his throat felt as if he’d been eating sandpaper.

Why the hell can’t people just leave me alone?

He’d been taken to the med wing of the brig for five days after banging his head against the concrete wall in his tiny cell until he was unconscious.

After he’d healed enough to be returned to the floor, he’d done it again.

He didn’t want to kill himself—at first—he just wanted to remove the visions of his parents being blown to pieces.

Night after night, nightmare after nightmare.

He wanted it gone.

They’d transferred him to the mental health hospital eight weeks ago, and all he’d done so far was raise hell because these walls weren’t hard enough to knock him out.

“I’ve been where you are,” the stranger said, sitting there as if he had all the time in the world. As if he wasn’t afraid of Matthew’s rage like everyone else was. “I’ve also been consumed with so much anger, resentment, and disappointment that I’d rather die than live another day with the torment.”

Matthew gritted his teeth at the man’s accuracy. If this was his new therapist… Matthew didn’t care how good he was. He wasn’t interested in being treated or related to.

Mirage

“According to the New England Journal of Medicine and the Journal of Natural Medicine, you’re a goddamn genius, Dr. Adams.”

Matthew blinked. He thought the therapist had given up like all the others and left his room hours ago. Or it could’ve been minutes. Hell, he didn’t know.

He had no recollection of time since all he did was stare unseeingly at a brick wall across the alley, day and night.

“You have a PhD in osteopathic medicine and psychiatry, two master’s degrees, one in neurology, the other in pathology. Holy shit, and you’ve been published for studies in holistic medicine.”

And Matthew would still never be as smart as his father was. No matter how many degrees or accolades he got in the field of medicine.

If I’d known I had so little time left with him, I would’ve quit school years ago.

“I already know my goddamn resume,” he snarled.

“So, what are you going to do now, Dr. Adams Jr.?”

The first opportunity I get, I’m going to kill myself.

There was nothing left for him in this life except a dishonorable discharge and nine years in prison for assault in the first degree.

Death would be better.

But the hospital wouldn’t allow him a real knife and fork with his food, so he wasn’t quite sure how he would accomplish that.

Instead of the truth, Matthew answered, “You wanna know what I’m gonna do? I’m going to strangle you with my bare fuckin’ hands if you don’t leave!”

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Ex Meridian – Prequel to the Black Ravens Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/ex-meridian-prequel-to-the-black-ravens-read-online-a-e-via Sat, 05 Oct 2024 02:29:51 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/ex-meridian-prequel-to-the-black-ravens-read-online-a-e-via Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: A.E. Via Advertisement

Total pages in book: 4
Estimated words: 3816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 19(@200wpm)___ 15(@250wpm)___ 13(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 >4

A brutal, heartless, assassin's way of showing his partner/lover a romantic Valentine's Day

Take a man and strip him of his ability to feel compassion, empathy, remorse...love, any of the emotions that make him human, but leave the ones that ignite rage and aggression and you have the perfect killing machine—now imagine two of them.

Code names Ex and Meridian are synonymous for ‘guaranteed death. Two men recruited into an unsanctioned government program and trained to operate most efficiently—lethally—together. Without the risk of lust or love getting in the way.

Until something within them changed.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Meridian

Ex

Meridian

Pınarhisar, Kırklareli, Türkiye

170mi from Istanbul

Meridian pulled his black hood lower on his forehead. He couldn’t see where his partner, Ex, was on the compound, but he could feel him. Meridian felt him in his mind, in his soul, and in his heart.

They were supposed to rendezvous at the south entrance of the gutted warehouse, but he had a surprise for his partner.

Ex knew Meridian’s every move, sometimes before he made it, so he’d been forced to request the assistance of the Brown Ravens.

Grace and Mirage had arrived in their colors, keeping their identities concealed behind their chestnut hoods and leather clothing.

Meridian’s instructions had been followed to the letter, and the three had made quick work of the remaining Grey Jade crime family.

He’d called on the Browns, and without hesitation, they’d answered. Because he was who he was. He was the Meridian. The original. The only Raven who wore black colors.

Fitting for his dark soul.

It’d been the first time Meridian had seen them in action, and he hadn’t been disappointed.

Six ravens existed in the world—the deadliest, unfeeling, genetically engineered men—eliminating threats even the SEALS and SAS forces couldn’t reach.

Grace, the taller of the Brown Ravens, came around the side of the building, moving with the silent stealth of a pit viper. His partner, Mirage, was a few inches shorter and stayed concealed in Grace’s shadow. He’d revealed himself long enough to kill, then vanished just as fast.

Meridian remained still, silent, waiting.

“A debt is owed,” Grace rumbled in a fractured voice that sounded as if it was rarely used.

Meridian’s temple throbbed before he gave a stiff nod. He hoped this debt didn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

Grace spun into a turn that resulted in his partner tucked in front of him. Meridian never got a chance to see Mirage, but he did see his arms and the glimmering steel of his twenty-inch fighting knives.

Meridian’s heart sped up. Not because of the deadly men behind him, but because of the one approaching.

He turned and looked toward the sky in time to see Ex rappelling down the five-story structure with the ease of a spider, landing inches from Meridian’s side.

He didn’t have to check behind him to know Grace and Mirage were gone.

“Intel is solid. North side clear.” Ex’s hood was too low for Meridian to see his partner’s eyes, so he kept his gaze on his soft lips.

“South entrance clear,” Meridian answered, shifting closer.

“We breach on your—” Ex paused and tilted his head, listening for a second before he eased his suppressed-fire .22 from behind his back.

“Ex—”

“Shhh. Someone’s here.” His partner pointed the business end of his weapon over Meridian’s right shoulder. “I can smell him…no…them.”

Fuck.

Meridian wrapped his hand around Ex’s wrist and lowered his arm, dragging the tip of his silencer down the center of his chest.

Ex’s head was bowed, and Meridian could feel his partner’s fiery gaze following the movement from beneath his cover.

“Mere…what are you…?” Ex released an impatient exhale.

Meridian leaned into Ex’s ear and whispered against the soft cotton of his hood. “On my mark.”

Ex’s voice was hushed and controlled. “Goddamn you.”

Heat sizzled between them and adrenaline spiked in Meridian’s blood at their forbidden love. They were on a mission, for fuck’s sake, but Meridian’s soul screamed for his partner’s touch.

He was the most ruthless killer in the world. Stripped of all morals, conscience, and any ability to love.

All the things that made a person human.

Except…Meridian’s heart had resurrected. And it beat only for Ex. So there he was…doing everything within his infinite power to please him.

“Meridian.” Ex narrowed his eyes.

Shit, he’s catching on.

He was far too disciplined to be this carefree in the field, and Ex knew he’d never distract him with this kind of energy.

“I need you focused. Do not shift my attention, not now,” Ex snarled. “I’ve hunted this son of a bitch for months. He dies by my hand tonight.”

A low growl rumbled from Meridian’s chest before he pulled his .44 Magnum and fired three rapid shots into the door’s hinges.

Meridian moved so fast he didn’t give Ex a chance to react.

In the same breath, Meridian slammed his boot into the center of the steel door, sending it crashing to the concrete with an ear-deafening boom.

“The fucking flash-bang, Mere…goddammit,” Ex growled, then rushed inside the warehouse, darting to the left.

Meridian would’ve disappeared to the right, but their battle dance wasn’t needed. He pulled down the garage hangar door and encased them in darkness.

Meridian watched his partner slow his steps in confusion. His weapon was still raised, but there were no hostiles.

Meridian had already seen to that.

The Grey Jade Somalian crime family was a massive-scale human-trafficking organization that had evaded authorities for years before he and Ex had come to make it right.

His partner took these particular cases harder than the others. Ex had a ferocious appetite for justice—in the form of brutal deaths—and a soft spot for the weak and innocent.

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Boraleashe (Lord of the South Wind #2) Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/boraleashe-lord-of-the-south-wind-2-read-online-a-e-via Sun, 14 Jan 2024 20:20:51 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/boraleashe-lord-of-the-south-wind-2-read-online-a-e-via Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Magic, Paranormal, Shape Shifters Authors: A.E. Via Series: Lord of the South Wind Series by A.E. Via
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Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >53

All hail the Lord of the North Wind, Boraleashe Cavalerie. The last of the horsemen and harbingers of justice. The Overseer of the Realm of Winter, and Creator of the First Frost. Titan and Ruler of the Arctic World.

Boraleashe landed with the full force of his arctic power, showering ice and snow across the ground. Patrons bowed and tried not to gawk at him. Not because Boraleashe was the lord of an element, but because he was a strikingly beautiful titan, with his flowing white garments, and blizzard-kissed hair. Boraleashe Cavalerie was the opposite of his titan brothers. He was stoic, disagreeable, and his attitude towards others was just as biting as his frost. All titans were required to gift their pure hearts to another—to fall in love—as praise to the divinities for their dominion over an element. Refusal to pledge their heart was considered an act of defiance to the gods. There would be judgment… and atonement. For more than a millennium Boraleashe chose to shelter and hide his winter heart. He deftly avoided love by commanding army after army and fighting battle after battle. Fate intervened and gave Boraleashe the opportunity of earning a heart from a far more worthy love than he deserved. The newly appointed king of the Autumn World, Theodor Cavalerie, was the Bringer of Harvest and Treasure of the Realms. Why would a young virile lord like Theodor choose a surly two thousand-year-old titan like him? Boraleashe had no logical answer—he refused the handsome king for reasons no one would understand. Boraleashe confessed to his viceroy, “Adresin, if for any reason my heart were to ever get broken, I will suffer a misery and death far more excruciating than the Snow Moon’s curse on my heart. The universe had spoken for its final time, he either choose love… or loss. And there was only one man capable of penetrating Boraleashe’s icy interior. Only one warrior strong enough to save his soul from damnation.NOTE: This is a story of fantasy with woven elements of mythology that have been modified for the story. This series is set in fictional worlds, and part on Earth. Some descriptions, geography, and landscapes may have been altered to fit the story.Trigger Warning: Fighting, Violence

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Notalus

The End of a Season

“Father, are you expecting someone?” Theodor asked at the first notes of the herald’s trumpets announcing a visitor to their realm.

“No.” Notalus frowned.

A gust of frigid wind raced past them, blowing food and napkins off their dining table and across the gleaming floor. Notalus had just enough time to fling his heavy robe around his alpha-mate, Dustin, before another powerful surge of cold shot through the courtyards, leaving dishes frosted over and a thin layer of ice in their water goblets.

Dustin growled, “Shit! What in the—”

“It’s okay.” Notalus lowered his shield from around them.

The temperature dropped to almost freezing, their breath now visible when they spoke.

“It’s him…” Theodor gritted out, leaving the room so fast his guards had to jog to keep up.

“It’s who?” Dustin rasped, taking in Theodor’s anxious reaction.

“It’s my brother, Boraleashe. The Lord of the North Wind,” Notalus informed them. “He is here in Tir an Fhomhair.”

“‘Brother’?”

“Well, we’re not brothers in the human sense. We are brothers in arms, brothers of the seasons, horsemen. We are not brothers of blood or kinship. We inherited the titan title from our fathers, but when we came of age to rule, that is when we met the others—I mean each other.”

“Does Boraleashe visit often?” Dustin asked.

“No. He doesn’t.” Notalus led them out of his chambers. He didn’t know if Boraleashe stayed isolated and never visited because of his furious winds or his frozen heart.

“Shouldn’t your son be at your side?” Dustin murmured out of the corner of his mouth as they preceded their court toward the palace’s foyer.

“Yes,” Notalus answered between clenched teeth, “since he is the king now. Not me.”

The guards opened the doors, and Notalus led his royal subjects down the palace stairs and into the grand courtyard. The trumpets sounded again, and gray storm clouds blanketed the sky, causing another dramatic shift in the temperature.

Boraleashe appeared in the sky atop his pearl-white stallion, Frostreign, in a mirage of frozen rain and snow. His robe was blizzard white and clasped around his neck with a sable fur collar, his armor shimmering like diamonds. His wind was so cold it sounded like icicles falling on a frozen lake. Boraleashe’s court trailed him by ground on their speckled Clydesdales, his viceroy paused in front to make his announcement.

“People of Tir an Fhomhair! All hail the Lord of the North Wind, Boraleashe Cavalerie, the last of the horsemen and harbingers of justice, the overseer of the Realm of Winter, and creator of the first frost. Titan and ruler of Tir an Amárach, the Arctic World.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >53

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What Do the Lonely Do on the Holidays Read Online A.E. Via http://www.ilovenovels.com/what-do-the-lonely-do-on-the-holidays-read-online-a-e-via Sun, 14 Jan 2024 20:20:49 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/what-do-the-lonely-do-on-the-holidays-read-online-a-e-via Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: A.E. Via Advertisement

Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 20243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >21

Tis the season to NOT be lonely, falalalala.....

Spencer Underwood would rather celebrate National Sock Day than Christmas or any other holiday that centers around friends, family, or good tidings. The sudden death of his parents took any joy he’d once felt for the season.

Now, it’s just him, his memories, and his Holiday Grinches Facebook group.

Spencer has always done a poor job of hiding his loneliness this time of year. And the sweet—albeit unrealistic—encounter with a pushy jewelry salesman in the mall reminds him exactly why he hates this time of year.

Coleman Burbank the Sixth is the artistic genius behind the billion-dollar jewelry empire his family built and owned. But all the money in the world can’t buy him what he wants for Christmas. The holidays are always roughest for Cole, and he’s looking forward to it all being over. Especially since the sexy customer with the sad eyes he asked out earlier turned him down cold.

Cole’s best friend takes him to a gentlemen’s lounge to boost his mood, and he is more than stunned when Spencer approaches their table to wait on them.

Cole didn’t think it was possible to find a man who could understand his loss or his disdain for the season, but the more he learns of the heartbroken man serving him, the more he wants to take it all away… for both of them.

Because no one should be alone for the holidays.

PLEASE This title is a completely revised, re-edited, short story , PREVIOUSLY released in a 2020 Anthology. It has never been published wide UNTIL NOW.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Spencer

“We’re gonna be late for our shift Spencer, if we don’t get going. The mall is closing soon, and here comes that goddamn security guard again,” Brent fussed.

Spencer ignored his best friend, continuing to lead them in the opposite direction of the exit. He craned his head toward Burbank Jewelers to see if they were still open.

Yes.

“I just wanna see if the bracelet is still there.”

Brent rolled his green eyes. “Of course it’s still there. No one has that kind of money for a freakin’ bracelet.”

Spencer passed an extravagant Christmas setup in the center of the mall, complete with a gaudy fifteen-foot tree and a goddamn Polar Express train. There were miles of red velvet ropes where parents had stood in line for hours with their snot-nosed kids for a thirty-second photo op with a fake Santa.

He almost wanted to kick the massive ornaments decorating the floor, but he refrained.

It wasn’t quite six yet, and since they’d finally shut off that annoying version of ‘Sleigh Ride’ blasting from the PA system, he could hear himself think.

Spencer tried to get into a better mood while his friend dragged him around the mall to shop for the perfect gift for his partner. He didn’t want to piss on anyone else’s happiness, but the term “misery loves company” was resonating deep within him.

He hated this time of year. All he wanted to do was stay home and fuck around on his Holiday Grinches group he’d started on Facebook three years ago. He had no parents, no siblings, no family, no boyfriend—at least not for some time—and no prospects. But he did have almost ten thousand members, so that was something.

“Spencer, come on, man. You know how grumpy Mr. Belvedere gets when we’re not on time.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. Mr. Belvedere was the nickname they’d given their pompous boss, who believed being prepared and prompt was a trait of a disciplined man.

“We’ll be on time,” Spencer murmured.

The gate to the jewelry store was still up, which meant he had at least a couple of minutes to stare at his baby. His eyes adjusted to the warm, ambient lighting of the jewelry store while he stood in front of the main display case.

“Great. Why don’t you just go to the bank on Monday and take out a loan the size of Egypt and buy the darn thing? Then you can stop gawking at it every time we come in here.”

Brent stood beside him, tapping his foot, with his Macy’s bag slung over his shoulder.

Spencer ran his finger over the pristine glass. If only they had a layaway plan or something.

“We’re just about to close, sir,” a tall man said, coming around the corner.

He was older but handsome, with a stern jaw and a corporate haircut, with graying temples.

“Are you picking up an order or needing assistance with a new purchase?”

“No, he was just leaving.”

Before Spencer could respond, Brent gripped his elbow and tugged him backward.

Spencer dug his heels in and glared at his friend over his shoulder.

“Um, no, but I would like to see the marble stone bracelet with the literary owl.”

The salesman smiled and brushed his manicured fingers over the stark midnight beads with pearl velvet stones. The man removed it from the display and laid the bracelet on a piece of white leather padding on top of the counter.

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