Saturday, December 7, 2013

Enjoy A Long Excerpt of Let It Snow by Heidi Cullinan

Title: Let It Snow by Heidi Cullinan
Genre: M/M Romance, Contemporary
Expected publication: November 26th 2013 by Samhain
Length: 228 pages

Rating: 4 Stars
Read my review here:

The weather outside is frightful, but this Minnesota northwoods cabin is getting pretty hot.

Stylist Frankie Blackburn never meant to get lost in Logan, Minnesota, but his malfunctioning GPS felt otherwise, and a record-breaking snowfall ensures he won’t be heading back to Minneapolis anytime soon. Being rescued by three sexy lumberjacks is fine as a fantasy, but in reality the biggest of the bears is awfully cranky and seems ready to gobble Frankie right up.

Marcus Gardner wasn’t always a lumberjack—once a high-powered Minneapolis lawyer, he’s come home to Logan to lick his wounds, not play with a sassy city twink who might as well have stepped directly out of his past. But as the northwinds blow and guards come down, Frankie and Marcus find they have a lot more in common than they don’t. Could the man who won’t live in the country and the man who won’t go back to the city truly find a home together? Because the longer it snows, the deeper they fall in love, and all they want for Christmas is each other.

Warning: Contains power outages, excessive snowfall, and incredibly sexy bears.

Purchase Link: SamhainAmazon, B&N

As the first day of their being confined together wore on, Marcus began to feel like the fat kid at a pool party—and he had been the fat kid at a pool party, so he knew what he was talking about. Even when people tried to include him, the overtures felt awkward and obligatory. Part of him knew he should try to join their conversations on his own, but he couldn’t seem to find a way in, which only served to make him feel more left out.

To make matters worse, Frankie kept looking at Marcus expectantly, though what he thought was going to happen, Marcus couldn’t guess. He tried glancing back at him, waiting for a cue, but all that did was make Frankie blush and turn back to the others. It didn’t make any sense.

When Paul finally got the cribbage board and cards out at three, Marcus decided he’d had enough. “I’m going out to split some more wood,” he declared, and thankfully nobody pointed out the wall by the door was stacked to the ceiling with logs and the front porch had enough for the next day. They let him bundle up and go out into the blast of wind and ice, probably glad to be rid of him.

Goddamn it. He didn’t know how he’d keep from going crazy if this lasted as many days as it looked like it might.

The snow was over a foot deep now, and he had to really trudge to get through it. It was way too windy to work outside, so Marcus took a few logs into the barn, propping them up on an old bench before swinging the axe down. He felt better after a few rounds, his confusion and loneliness seeping out of his body with each swing. It would be fine, he told himself. He was just hung up on Steve still, which he’d known, and Frankie was a walking reminder. It’d be frustrating for a while, but pretty soon he’d get used to it, and before he knew it Frankie would go back to Minneapolis and he’d never see him again.

It wasn’t like he could really have a chance with Frankie anyway. Despite his enthusiasm over Marcus’s current employment, guys like Frankie didn’t want to date loggers who lived in the North Woods. There was no way, either, that Marcus was living anywhere else, not anymore. Not with his mom sick. He wasn’t going back to the Cities, and he wasn’t going to any other city. So at best he could have a fling with Frankie, which had never gone well for him. Best to keep jerking off on his own and working.

He’d be fine.

Lonely, but fine.

He swung the axe down, and an image of Frankie smiling for Arthur and Paul flashed through his mind.

It would be fine. Fine, fine, fine.

The door to the shed slammed open and shut. Marcus turned.

Frankie was there.

He looked like a fashionable mummy, trussed up in his overalls and bright red ski coat and his balaclava, his angry blue eyes visible in the narrow slit above his nose. After coming all the way into the shed, he pulled off the head covering and tossed it on the ground in front of Marcus.

“What is wrong with you?” Frankie demanded.

Too surprised to reply, Marcus put down the axe and stared.

“I’m done with this. You hear me? Done.” Frankie didn’t come closer, standing just inside the doorway, shaking with cold or rage or both. “I’m not going to spend days and days like this, having you snipe at me and ignore me all day and then lie next to me at night like if you move too close to me you’ll get cooties or something. God, if you were homophobic, I’d get it, but obviously—” He stopped, as if something was dawning on him, and then his pretty features turned up into a sneer. “Shit. You’re one of them, aren’t you? Think effeminate guys are the reason you get so much hell? If I weren’t so swishy, maybe your life would be easier?”

“What the fuck? No.” Marcus shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

This only seemed to fan Frankie’s fires of indignation. “What am I talking about?

I’m talking about how you won’t say more than three words to me, how you won’t let me do anything to help in the house, but when you have to do something for me, you act like it’s the biggest imposition in the world. If you hate me, just come out and say it. Get it out of your system, because if you’re going to be like this, I’m stealing the Ski-Doo and staying with Patty in town.”

“The hell you’re leaving,” Marcus shot back.

“Why do you hate me?” Frankie demanded.

Fucking hell. “I don’t hate you.”

Frankie put his hands on his hips and glared.

Marcus glared back, doing him one better and taking several steps closer to Frankie.

“I don’t hate you. You’re not an imposition. And you’re not stealing the Ski-Doo.”

“You won’t talk to me.” Frankie crossed his arms over his chest, his slick red coat whispering shoosh at the gesture. “You always growl at me.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You just did growl. You growl at me and you glare and you make me feel like shit.” His eyes developed a sheen, and he pulled off his gloves, angrily wiping at them. “If you make me cry, you asshole, I’m running you over with the Ski-Doo.”

Marcus deliberately tried to soften his countenance, despite the gesture making him feel so naked he wanted to throw up. “I’m sorry I made you feel like shit, Frankie.”

This, however, only made Frankie wilt. “Goddamn it, stop.”

Marcus threw up his hands. “I wasn’t being grumpy, dammit!”

Frankie wiped at his eyes again, twice on each side, and when he spoke, his voice was hurt and watery. “Why do you hate me? I keep trying, but it doesn’t matter what I do. Just tell me why, and I’ll leave you alone.”

Marcus wanted to hand Frankie the axe to hack at him with, because he figured that would be a lot less painful. “I don’t hate you. At all.”

In answer, Frankie glared and shoved roughly at Marcus. It budged him about a half an inch.

“I don’t hate you,” Marcus repeated. The hell he was telling Frankie about Steve.

“I’m just a cranky old bastard. Ignore me, and I’ll go away.”

“You’re not that grumpy to Paul and Arthur,” Frankie insisted.

This was true. Marcus sighed. “I don’t hate you. I swear.” His shoulders slumped in defeat. “You remind me of someone else is all, someone who really does make me grumpy.” Not someone he hated, though, because even after everything he couldn’t make himself hate Steve. “It’s not fair to you, I know, but I can’t help it.”

Frankie folded his arms again, but not as tight as when he’d first arrived. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I came off that badly.”

“You came off horribly.” Those arms relaxed a little more, then tightened as Frankie tilted his head to the side. “So you don’t hate that I’m kind of swishy?”

There was no kind of about Frankie’s swishy. Marcus smiled. “Not at all.”

Frankie smiled, and goddamn if he wasn’t so fucking adorable Marcus wanted to pull him into his arms and kiss him senseless. No, he reminded himself, but that voice felt weak and far away right now. Frankie was smiling at him, truly smiling, and it felt good. He looked nothing like Stevie. He looked sweet and adorable and kissable as all hell. So cute and perfect Marcus wanted to eat him right up.

You’re not going to flirt with him, remember? Marcus reminded himself.

Right, he agreed, and bent to give Frankie a kiss.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Heidi Cullinan has always loved a good love story, provided it has a happy ending. She enjoys writing across many genres but loves above all to write happy, romantic endings for LGBT characters because there just aren't enough of those stories out there. When Heidi isn't writing, she enjoys cooking, reading, knitting, listening to music, and watching television with her husband and ten-year-old daughter. Heidi also volunteers frequently for her state's LGBT rights group, One Iowa, and is proud to be from the first midwestern state to legalize same-sex marriage. Find out more about Heidi, including her social networks, at
Links: WebsiteTwitterFacebookGoodreads

No comments:

Post a Comment