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Guest post – The Captain’s Snowbound Christmas

Pop over to Love Bytes Reviews to read Eleanor’s guest post for The Captain’s Snowbound Christmas about the joys of reading Christmas stories!

 

Out now! The Captain’s Snowbound Christmas

Out now, our Christmas novella The Captain’s Snowbound Christmas! Available in ebook.

Will Reuben be unwrapping a captain this Christmas?

Reuben’s a makeup artist who’s much in demand in the business, from making the beautiful even more gorgeous to creating an alluring love-scene glow. All of his Christmas wishes come true at once when he’s hired to work on the set of his favourite TV show. And not only that but on the swoony Christopher Manners.

Bunny is lusted after by millions as the brooding hero of television’s Captain Firth adventures. His manly swash and handsome buckle have earned him a legion of fans, and when he strides onto the screen and commands, “Draw your sword, sir,” it’s time to get down to business.

When Reuben and Bunny’s first date turns into a disaster, it looks as though the show’s over before it’s begun, but a blizzard, a mysterious bearded man in a red coat and a hot winter night combine to give them a second chance.

Excerpt

Reuben couldn’t believe his luck. Makeup on the filming of one of his favourite shows. As he found a spot in the studio car park, he felt as if he’d stormed the barricades and at any moment someone would arrive and try to throw him out. And Reuben would say, “Go and have a word with Amy, she’s hired me for the day.”

Reuben had loved Captain Firth since the first series had been shown on television. What wasn’t to love about the flamboyant show full of men in tight breeches and flowing shirts? And the saturnine and sexy-as-hell captain?

Maybe I’ll get to meet him. Maybe I’ll get to say “Draw your sword, sir!” to the man himself.

As a makeup artist, Reuben had met a huge number of actors and celebrities. It was both a perk and a downside of the job—some of the people he’d met couldn’t have been nicer, and some couldn’t have been more nightmarish if they’d tried. Reuben had never been particularly starstruck, but he feared he might be if he actually met Christopher Manners, the man who played the captain.

Once he’d found a spot for his Renault, Reuben tightened his scarf round his neck and headed off into the studio. He’d probably spend the day applying mascara to a chimney sweep’s face or brushing rouge onto a kitchen maid’s cheeks, but when he saw the wall behind the reception desk covered by a huge Captain Firth poster, his heart leapt with excitement.

Christopher Manners, you smouldering bastard.

“Reuben!” Amy appeared from a closed door before he had a chance to approach the receptionist. “You’re a lifesaver! Carrie’s gone into labour and we’ve got literally one day left before we wrap. Reshoots, you know… I’ll tell you on the way. We’ll go straight down. It’s a closed set.”

Reuben nodded. “Hope Carrie’s okay! Closed set, eh? This should be interesting!”

He was probably going to be stood in a room with the coachman boffing the brigadier’s wife, but it paid a wage, so Reuben didn’t care. Besides, he’d been told before on closed sets that he was a joy to work with during intimate scenes, so he would be in his element.

“I’m going to let you look after Bunny,” Amy said as they strode along a grey corridor. It was funny to think that somewhere in this labyrinth, the Napoleonic Wars were being fought by the swoonsome Captain Firth.

Bunny?

“Okay,” Reuben said, trying to mask his disappointment. Definitely one of the less-well-known cast members, then. No naked, lustful Christopher Manners for him.

“Bunny’s a complete peach.” She pushed open another door, dodging past two fully equipped astronauts as she strode on. “But everything that could go wrong this morning has. It’s all a tad tense for our Regency spies today!”

“I’ve got my kit, don’t worry!” Reuben assured her. “And I’m an old hand at love scenes, you know that.”

“Brilliant.” Amy grinned. “Because once we get today wrapped, I can start my proper Chrimble!”

They paused outside another door that Reuben knew would take him into makeup. He was no stranger to the setup at the studio, after all. Amy opened the door a little and peered in, then told Reuben, “Come on in, everyone’s mostly decent!”

Reuben strolled in, nonchalant as he swung his toolbox of makeup. Until he clocked who was standing by the mirrors wearing only his breeches.

His very tight breeches.

Oh fucking hell, no way! Christopher Manners!

“Erm…nice to meet you,” Reuben said. Nice being the understatement of the century.

Christopher turned and raised his teacup to Reuben in greeting. “Hello!” he said as a man knelt before him, face to face with the breeches. For a moment Reuben wondered what was going on, then the man began tussling with the buckle of Christopher’s sword belt.

‘Draw your sword sir!’

Reuben was so tempted to say it. The words were burning his tongue. But he didn’t dare. Here he was, in the flesh. Captain Firth. His toned chest was even more impressive in reality. And those shoulders…that flop of dark-blond hair and…and…his blue eyes. Reuben tried to bring himself to his senses and said, “Just looking for Bunny?”

“You’ve found him!” Christopher Manners extended his arm over the armourer’s head towards Reuben. “Sorry, I’m trapped in my sword belt!”

Reuben wasn’t sure where to look. He glanced down at the armourer and all he could see was Christopher’s groin in the pale-coloured breeches. Then, when he glanced up, his gaze latched on to the man’s chest before moving up the column of his kissable neck and finally settling on his eyes. And even that seemed wrong, somehow.

“I’m Reuben. And you’re…you’re Bunny? You’re on the closed set?”

Merry Christmas, Reuben!

“I hope so, or my agent’s not doing her job!”

He seized Reuben’s hand and shook it as Amy said, “Bunny, I’m going to leave you in Reuben’s capable hands today. Linda’s a bit shy and I think she’d prefer a gal, so…you boys’ll be okay together, won’t you? We need Bunny to look nicely battle-worn and beddable, smouldering basically. Dust down on torso and shoulders, all that.”

Reuben blinked. Battle-worn and beddable? But wasn’t that one of the main reasons people watched Captain Firth? Well, one of the main reasons Reuben watched it, at least.

And Reuben would help to bring the magic alive.

“Okay, could you take a seat and I’ll…” Reuben turned to Amy. “So just torso, arms, shoulders, we’re keeping the breeches on?”

She nodded. “They’re due to come off round about lunchtime, but for now just torso.”

“Arse out before lunchtime,” Bunny lamented as the sword belt finally came free. “Thank God for that! Can’t do a love scene strapped into a sword belt.”

Reuben put his toolbox down on the worktop. He caught sight of his own reflection and saw his cheeks were pinker than usual.

I’m going to see Christopher Manners’ bum. I’m going to sponge it and brush it. Dear God, this is a beautiful day.

“Okay, we’ll deal with the bum when we come to it,” Reuben said. He selected some of his creams and powders and laid them out on the work surface. “Could you take a seat, Christo— Do I call you Bunny? Or Christopher?”

“If you’re powdering me from head to toe, we may as well go straight to Bunny,” he replied with a smile. “Skip the formalities?”

Straight to Bunny?

“Dare I ask why you’re called Bunny?” Reuben asked.

“Because I earned my Equity stripes playing the Easter bunny in a rather anarchic pantomime.” Bunny gave him a dazzling smile. “And now I brood manfully on Cornish cliffs for a living.”

Amy patted Reuben on his shoulder as though to say thanks for being a sport, then headed towards the door with the armourer in tow. As she reached the threshold she paused and turned.

“Reuben, I forgot to tell you to bring your baby oil. You’ll need it after lunch!” She shrugged. “I’ve got some in my kit, shout if you need it.”

Baby oil. On Captain Firth’s chest? I’ve been waiting for this moment forever.

Reuben had a quick rummage in his toolbox and held up the bottle. “Never fear, I come prepared!” He gave Bunny a wink. “Post-coital gleams are a speciality of mine.”

“I hope so.” Bunny settled into the chair, returning Reuben’s wink with one of his own. “Captain F’s known for his post-coital gleam!”

Reuben remembered one scene in particular where Captain Firth had lain naked on a bed, only a very small, convenient piece of sheet sparing his blushes. Reuben had always envied the makeup artist who’d worked that scene.

Reuben dabbed some foundation in different shades on the back of his hand, then took a sponge and tried them out on Bunny’s shoulder. Bloody hell, he’s toned. “Just finding your shade… So…I wasn’t expecting to be doing your make up today. Carrie’s having her baby, Amy was saying?”

“Isn’t it great news?” Bunny beamed. “Thanks for coming in at such late notice. You’ve really saved the day.”

“It’s no bother,” Reuben said. “I had a magazine shoot booked in for today with some politician bod, but it got pulled because of some Whitehall drama. I’d much rather be doing this!”

Reuben decided on the shade for Bunny’s chest, poured out the foundation on a palette and got to work with a large sponge. “Tell me if it’s too cold,” Reuben said, aware that Bunny’s nipples had pebbled. Nipples that he’d be stippling with rouge later.

It’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it.

“It’s fine.” Bunny took a sip of tea. He was cold, though, Reuben was sure, just too polite to say. “You haven’t worked on our show before, have you? I’d have remembered.”

Reuben smiled. He was glad that Bunny wasn’t one of those actors, the kind who saw everyone backstage, including any actor who had lower billing than them, as anonymous, entirely forgettable minions.

“No, I haven’t. But I love the show. It’s so exciting to be here. And it’s so exciting doing your makeup.” Reuben took a breath and the words of Captain Firth’s catchphrase rang loudly through his head, as intrusive as an insistent earworm. ‘Draw your sword, sir!’ He bit it off just before it erupted from his mouth. “Yeah, good ol’ Captain Firth…”

Bunny’s face was on a bus that went past Reuben’s shared south London flat every day, the features brooding and chiselled alongside the words, Draw Your Sword This Christmas. And like the rest of the country, Reuben would be glued to the screen at his family’s festive gathering.

Chicks, Rogues and Scandals reviews The Captain’s Snowbound Christmas

This is brilliantly bonkers, saucy, festive fun with a marvellous ‘Carry on -Esque’ style tongue in cheek humour which had me in stitches, not to mention the touch of magic at the end, perfect afternoon entertainment

Read the full review at Chicks, Rogues and Scandals. Our festive novella, The Captain’s Snowbound Christmas, is published on 22nd December!

Bookshine and Readbows reviews The Captain and the Squire

Anyone who loves a saucy romp with good old-fashioned boo-able villains and lots of light-hearted banter, will enjoy joining Tarkers, Chris and Orry (who stole the show!) for a ride or two in the country!

Read the full review at Bookshine and Readbows! The Captain and the Squire is available in ebook, paperback and Kindle Unlimited.

Interview: Alexa Milne

It’s publication day for Alexa Milne Christmas story, A String of Lights. She dropped by the blog to tell us more.

Tell us about A String of Lights and the inspiration behind it.

The inspiration for this story came from a strange source. We had our bathroom turned into a wetroom a little while ago and one of the blokes who worked on it also worked for another man who went around the country putting up Christmas lights in towns and cities. I’d never thought of it being a specific job before and it gave me the title – A String of Lights. So Devlyn, my first MC, was born working for Sid. But I needed another MC.

Strangely, I often get inspiration from the programme, Countryfile. The idea for my novel My Highland Cowboy also came from a report on Countryfile. This time they had a story about someone restoring a rundown estate. So Henry was born as a secret lottery winner who bought such an estate on Exmoor, set about its restoration, and wanted Christmas lights in his village. Hence, Dev and Henry meet. As in all Christmas stories, something happens to keep them together. Spoiler – it isn’t snow!

Do you have a favourite Christmas book or film that you turn to each year?

My favourite Christmas film is It’s a Wonderful Life. I may have a thing for angels. I love Clarence in the film and also Castiel in Supernatural. I’ve even written a Christmas two-part story with an angel. The books are called Not Every Time and A Bell Rings. If you know It’s a Wonderful Life, you might recognise I’ve changed the last line to give me the titles for the books. Another Christmas favourite is Scrooged. So much fun in that film.

On TV, I watch the Christmas episodes of Gavin and Stacey so often, I know them by heart. This links me to my home as I’m from Barry, where it’s set.

What, to you, makes for the perfect Christmas?

I’m not one for huge gatherings and seeing family is tricky as I live far away from them. We have a quiet Christmas with lots of silly presents, my favourite dinner of the year, too much chocolate, and watching TV.

Where do you write and when?

At the moment, due to mobility problems, I write a lot sat up on my bed. I tend to write in the morning, but I don’t make myself write every day or write a certain amount. I write when I want to and as much as I can. That can be 200 words or 2000 if I’m lucky. I don’t feel guilty if I don’t write. I’m mostly a pantster with a little planning, so sometimes have to wait for the next bit of inspiration to come along, like it did this morning. Then I have to make notes before I forget what I thought about. Somehow the words appear on the page, and eventually, I fashion some sort of story out of them.

Tell us about your journey to publication, and the sort of books your write. Was writing something you’d always wanted to do or did you fall into it by accident?

I first started writing when a character in a TV showed died. That character was Ianto Jones and the programme was Torchwood. I’d always been a Doctor Who fan so naturally watched Torchwood and became more than a little involved with the relationship between Ianto and his handsome Captain Jack Harkness.

After his death, I found fanfiction and I started writing a fix it story. I kept writing. Then I found Supernatural and online fandoms and online friends I have to this day. Some of those friends started writing their own stories, so I thought I’d give it a try and wrote Sporting Chance. They say write what you know. One MC was a history teacher, like me, and the other a rugby player. I’m a big watcher of Wales playing rugby union. To my amazement, the second publisher I sent it to offered me a contract.

After that, I kept writing. I’d retired from teaching so I could write when I wanted. I write books with all sorts of MCs. I write angsty and sweet stories. I write stories with sex, maybe because I come from a fanfiction background, but also because I like writing them. I’ve written short stories, novella and novels.

I’m currently writing the third part of an unpublished trilogy with the same MCs, something new for me. It’ll need a lot of editing as in total it’s over 200,000 words and hasn’t even got a title. Lockdown has made writing a bit hit and miss, but even if I stop for a while, getting words down on a page always pulls me back.

About Alexa Milne

Originally from South Wales, Alexa has lived for over thirty years in the North West of England. Now retired, after a long career in teaching, she devotes her time to her obsessions.

Alexa began writing when her favourite character was killed in her favourite show. After producing a lot of fanfiction she ventured into original writing.

She is currently owned by a mad cat and spends her time writing about the men in her head, watching her favourite television programmes and usually crying over her favourite football team.

Find Alexa at Pride, and on Facebook, Twitter, Bookbub, Goodreads and QueeRomanceink.

Buy A String of Lights from: Amazon, Pride, First for Romance, and Barnes & Noble.

A String of Lights

Sometimes loves shines a light.

Devlyn Collins lives with his mum and stepdad in the north of England. He goes out with his mates, drinks a bit too much and works for his Uncle Sid. The trouble is, he’s begun to think he wants more.

Henry Ward is a man with a secret—he’s a multi-millionaire who owns a landed estate on the edge of Exmoor, thanks to a massive win on the lottery. He’s also a man with a mission, determined to restore Secoombe Hall and village and find out how he shares a history with the place. He’s too busy for love.

Christmas brings these two men together when Henry offers Sid and Dev silly money for a last-minute job of putting up Christmas lights. Dev doesn’t expect to meet an attractive man in this small village and Henry expects them to be just strangers, passing for one night only.

But events conspire to bring Dev back to the village…and keep him there for Christmas. Will this be just a holiday romance, or could it develop into something more?

Excerpt

“All right, it’s true. I never thought you’d get to this stage.”

Henry listened to his sister, Bella, while Ollie, the biggest and hairiest of the four estate cats, wove between his legs.

“I’m sorry we’re not there, but Toby had to be in France for a race this weekend, and the girls and I decided Paris would be ideal for shopping for Christmas presents, and it’s not like we haven’t seen the Hall already. You’ve done such a wonderful job.”

Henry heard the unspoken words—and if I have to spend any more time with that pompous twit from the village, I would most likely commit murder.

“It’s fine, Bella. I’ll see you over the holidays.” He motioned to Aggie Giles, the housekeeper, who was laden down with a tray of cakes of various sorts. She smiled and nodded, already knowing to take them to the largest room at the back of the house overlooking the gardens, where the Christmas party was to be held. Stan, her husband, had already carried through the trays of turkey rolls, with and without stuffing. A large steel urn had been brought into the room to provide hot water for tea and coffee for the adults, and there were bottles of soft drinks for the village children.

“I’ve got to go,” he said. “I hope both you and Toby get what you want in Paris.” Toby and Bella had been married for fifteen years, having met as stable hands in their late teens with dreams of owning their own training yard. Two years ago, a stroke of luck had changed Henry and Bella’s lives. They’d bought a ticket for the EuroMillions lottery and won the biggest-ever prize of one hundred and eighty million pounds between them.

“That’s everything, Mr. Henry,” Aggie announced as he put the phone in his pocket.

“Thank you, Aggie. You and Stan have been a great help.”

She handed him a lint remover. “I thought you might need this after Ollie’s attention.” She’d shooed the big cat away. Henry glanced down to find cat fur all over the lower part of his trousers and tutted as he ran the roller over them.

“Somehow he always sneaks in,” he said as he brushed.

“Will the owner be joining us today?” Aggie asked.

Henry shook his head. “No, he’s across the other side of the world on business. He’s a busy man.” Henry hated lying, but he’d invented this person so people wouldn’t be curious about him. As far as the villagers knew, he was the estate manager in charge of renovating the houses, village and land, not the man who, in fact, owned everything.

“Do we know how many of the villagers will be here, Aggie?” He needed to change the subject.

“Being a Saturday, some people are at work, but I reckon around three hundred, give or take. Mel Whedon and her bloke aren’t moving into Coombe Cottage until next week, but she’ll be here. She’s due to give birth any time now. Her parents are so grateful to have her nearby rather than in Taunton. So many people are amazed at what’s been done. This boss of yours must be a philanthropist or doing it for tax purposes.”

Stan returned. “Don’t matter why he’s doing it, only that something’s been done, love. This village was dying and now we’ve new houses, a village hall and a church with a roof, as well as this place mostly restored and providing something to bring in tourists.”

In the last two years, Henry had completed much of what he’d set out to do. The main house had been transformed from a leaky, draughty building a few months away from ruin to something beautiful. He’d had cottages rebuilt in the grounds, revamped the village hall and replaced the church roof, as well as making the gatehouse fit for occupation for himself. He had more plans that he intended to announce that afternoon.

A small group of people walked into the entrance. “Mr. Ward?”

Henry stepped forward. “You must be the musicians I booked.” The woman took his outstretched hand.

“Yes, we’re the Villagers. Could someone show us where to set up?”

“I’ll deal with them, Mr. Henry,” Stan said, leading the two women and three men away. A little while later, the sound of singing accompanied by guitar, fiddle and drum spread through the house. Time to get ready to greet the visitors.

Typically, the vicar arrived first. The recently appointed Reverend Christopher Birch was young, enthusiastic, looked as if he needed a square meal and was gay, something he’d told Henry in what he called a spirit of honesty, with the church sited on land belonging to the Secoombe estate. He clasped Henry’s hand and shook it hard.

“I can’t tell you how grateful we are for the roof, Mr. Ward. Please tell your employer. It means so much being able to preserve the old place, and especially the Doom Painting. So many were whitewashed during the Reformation. You know there’s been a place of worship on the site from as far back as the Domesday Book. Now, we’ll be able to get visitors in and tidy up the graveyard, make the gravestones safe. I wish I could do the same for all my churches.”

Henry guessed that might be a hint for more money. Well, if you don’t ask… “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, would you? That would be kind, and I hear a young family will be moving into Coombe Cottage soon. So good to have more young people in the village.”

“The owner is more than happy to help. As I’ve explained, his family came from this village quite a while back, hence his interest. I believe there are Secoombes buried in the church itself.”

Cover reveal – Under a Spitfire Sky

Can love burn bright in the darkest days of war?

Here it is! We’re so excited to share with you the gorgeous cover of our first WW2 Ellie Curzon novel, Under a Spitfire Sky.

Pre-order now – published in February 2021!

Open Skye reviews How to Make the Perfect Man

The great mixture of characters and creatures really make this story. There are werewolves, banshee’s, sequin wearing frogs and a reanimated talking stuffed alligator. This is a very short story but so worth the read!

Read the full review at Open Skye Book Reviews. Buy your copy of How to Make the Perfect Man from Amazon now!

Padme’s Library reviews The Captain and the Cavalry Trooper

Five out of five.

I thought I’d give Jack and Robert’s story another read when I recently read two of the contemporary entries in Curzon & Harkstead’s Captivating Captains series.  I love them just as much now as I did two years ago.

Padme’s Library featured The Captain and the Cavalry Trooper for Veteran’s Day.

Love Bytes reviews How to Make the Perfect Man

4.5 hearts. If you need a lighthearted, entertaining, silly, surprising and unique short story to lift your mood, look no further because this is definitely the book for you. I loved it.

Read the full review at Love Bytes Reviews. Buy your ebook of How to Make the Perfect Man at Amazon now!

A How to Make the Perfect Man Q&A!

Pop over Drops to Ink where we’re talking all things How to Make a Perfect Man. Discover the inspiration for the story, and find out about our favourite creepy tales as well as where and how we write.

You can buy your ebook of How to Make a Perfect Man now from Amazon!