A Special Delivery

My next story, A Special Delivery, is up for preorder everywhere! It’s a short story, an MM romance that happens during Christmas and features lots of snow, a fireplace, hot chocolate and an adorable dog.

I have to admit I was indulging myself when I wrote this; I wanted some Christmas fluff, so I decided to write it, and the story was born.

Here’s the cover, blurb and buy links:

Holiday-WinterSeason-ASpecialDelivery-f500Colin only meant to take a wrongly delivered package to a house a few streets over. But a sudden snowstorm leaves him with no option but to beg shelter from his unknown neighbour James. During the course of a long night, a cozy fire, a little hot chocolate and the snow outside conspire to draw the two men closer. But will their connection outlast the storm?

Buy links: NineStar Press / Amazon

You can also add it to Goodreads if that’s your thing.

And remember that you can get a 30% discount when you preorder for NineStar Press, using the code preorder.



He was there, I remember

This little short is the first thing I wrote completely in English, so it’s truly especial for me. I thought I’d be perfect to greet you with some of my first words.

When I woke up today, I knew it was going to be one of the rare days; one of the days when I always remember, when I’m my old self again. So I got out of bed and cooked breakfast for myself. It was still weird, cooking just for one, but I had to do it.

You see, I’m losing my memory. There are days when I don’t know where I am or when I don’t even now how to tie my shoelaces. But him, him I always remember, and I always end up cooking for two.

He was there, I remember. He was there at my best friend’s engagementent party. I remember staring at him that night, but I couldn’t make myself go and talk to him, I was a coward. But he was there again some months after that, a wedding guest, and that time it was him who came to introduce himself: “Before you get away again” he said, while he stared at me with those beautiful eyes. We danced every song together that night and he kissed me just as the sun was beginning to rise. I went home with a really rare smile on my face, one I couldn’t shake for the next 30 years, while we lived our lives together, through dating, living together, and our own wedding. We spent our lives dancing, until we were forced to stop, until I was left here without a dancing partner.

I remember him, and I miss him with every fiber of my being. Good days are actually the worst. Those are the days I know he’s not here, and he’s not visiting some friends or working either; those are the days I know he’s not coming back. So I cook for myself and pass the time watching old photos and smiling, thinking of the good life we had together, even if he was taken from me too son. At least we were given the chance to be happy and we took it, and that I know I’ll always remember.

I’m heading to bed now. Tomorrow will probably be a bad day, and I’ll cook for two and wait for him to come home but in the end, I’ll go to bed alone again.