An Unexpected Kind of Love (When Snow Falls #1)

by Hayden Stone

There are two kinds of people in the world: people who put things away as they should, and arseholes who shelve books with no respect for the alphabet.

of Pride and Prejudice.

The Picture of Dorian Gray shelved

Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About.

Wuthering ...

untied lace on one of my Docs.

gay

The Song of Achilles

I’d much rather stay in and enjoy some of the classic introverted activities. Like hiding.

Tawdry smut?

“Niche Victorian smut. Nice.”

“I want to kiss you.”

“Well…then I gave him a blow job.” I cough in a last-ditch desperate effort to save face, because obviously my mouth can’t be trusted with either words or proximity to Blake Sinclair. “As one does.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he whispers. “Fuck off with that,” I gasp immediately, unbidden.

“You should see what I can do in five,”

“I’ve already had a preview,”

“I’ve been dying since then to know what you can do in two hours. For science.”

“I hear the Lake District’s beautiful.

it is

“The world is making poor choices, and there’s plenty enough people with business degrees,” says Blake firmly, glancing at me. “We need more readers and artists and creatives. They’re the real visionaries. The rest is just capitalism. And if you really want, you can still take business classes.”

There’re not a lot of queer romances out there to model after, though I’ve always been one to forge my own way. But right now? Disaster.

I’m sure this is how mature people adult and make up, through legumes.

“It’s gonna be all right,”

“How about Red, White & Royal Blue and Boyfriend Material? A couple of recent queer romances.”

I’m going to America to find Blake and tell him that.

Blake’s back in London. God help me—I’m in the wrong damn country.

“I’m in love with you,”

“I love you too, Aubrey. More than words can say.”

“Yes, gorgeous?”

“You’re really here? You won’t disappear?” “I promise I won’t disappear.” His mouth yields against mine. Contented, I sigh. “’Kay.”

I’m stunned to discover that, in fact, it’s no kind of sex toy.