Snowed In, An M/M Anthology
by DC Juris
Contemporary, Gay Fiction, M/M Romance, Menage/Poly, Anthology
Blurb:
Snowed In is a wintery blend of frost, snow, and romance from eight of Torquere Press’ M/M authors.
Winter storms are dangerous, and in Celibate Cold by Lynn Townsend, Topher finds himself stranded in one when his car slides into a ditch. Alone and scared, he tries to walk home in the blizzard but ends up at Chase’s house, desperately in need of help.
Can an accident on Luke and Tom’s annual hike lead to them becoming more than good friends? Find out in Jessica Chase’s Falling for Love!
In This Winter’s Night by Kassandra Lea, Barry is devastated when he realizes he spends more time talking to his horses than his boyfriend—but that’s about change.
These snow angels have a devilish side! Huey and Tommy think their neighbor Marshall would be a naughty, fun addition to their snow day in Snow Angels by Leigh Ellwood.
In Snow Job by Logan Zachary, winter doesn’t always come with a chill—sometimes it’s smokin’ hot! For Lance and Leo, snowbound and icicles are about to take on whole new meanings.
Beau and Leon are two strangers on a chairlift. When Leon—the “experienced” skier—laughs at himself, Beau looks at him in a whole new light in Taking the Fall Line by Tray Ellis.
In Snowy Reunion by Emjay Haze, Steven wonders if he even has a boyfriend since Jonathan walked out after their last argument. But Jonathan surprises Steven during a ski trip and it just might save their relationship.
Seeking the elusive Yeti is Joel’s passion, but he finds more than he bargained for in Adventures of a Yeti Hunter by L.J. Hamlin.
Find it on Goodreads | Torquere
Excerpt:
Celibate Cold by Lynn Townsend
Chase squinted. Of course it wasn’t a yeti, he thought. But the creature who was stumbling in his direction was covered in snow from the thighs down and his coat was thick with ice crystals. He had a hat crammed low down over his ears, but no gloves, and his sleeves were crusted with more snow. He’d probably fallen a few times, to judge by the smears of white down his front.
By the time Chase had identified the intruder as being nothing more than a man, his visitor was nearly to the porch. The man’s teeth were chattering so hard that he couldn’t seem to force intelligible words out. Chase caught a few mumbled syllables.
“Well, you look like three miles of bad road,” Chase said. He helped the man up the stairs and then impartially started brushing snow off his back, not really paying attention to where his hands were until the man startled when Chase’s hands came down on his ass, smacking snow away.
The stranger whirled, his brown eyes wide.
Chase held his hands out to his sides, harmless. “No point in trackin’ that all in m’house, man, and you look a bit chilled to do it yourself.”
The man nodded, stomped off his feet as best he could, which wasn’t very well. Chase sighed. The guy was wearing fucking Oxfords, for Christ’s sweet sake. He’d be lucky if he had any toes left at all. Fool.
“Sex,” the man said.
“What?” Chase had to have misheard that. He stuck a finger—snow covered, and cold—into his ear as if to clear it out. Or wind up his brain. “What did you say?”
“Six. Six miles of bad road.”
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