Book Title: The Week Before Christmas
Author: Beth Laycock
Publisher: Rainbow Romance Press
Cover Artist: Free To Be Creative
Release Date: November 11, 2022
Genre: Paranormal M/M Romance (shifter)
Tropes: Saving Christmas, Forced proximity, Friends to lovers
Themes: Found family, acceptance
Heat Rating: 3 flames
Length: 23 000 words
It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger.
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
What better Christmas present is there than finding your fated mate?
Blurb
’Twas the week before Christmas
And all across Christmas Cove the elves were snowed under.
Preparing presents for Santa’s sleigh
To deliver to children all around the world.
But Dash—Santa’s favourite reindeer—is missing.
Vanished.
In his place, Aubron, the elf responsible for looking after all of Santa’s reindeer, finds a naked man in Dash’s stall.
A stranger he is inexplicably drawn to.
Can Aubron find Dash, and figure out who the mystery man is before Christmas is ruined?
This M/M romance from Beth Laycock features fated mates, a reindeer shifter, an elf definitely not left on the shelf, Santa, the North Pole, lashings of Christmas spirit, and of course a HEA.
It was rare for me to lose my temper, but who the hell was that man? And what was he doing in Dash’s stall? If he’d done something to Dash… For the love of Christmas, I wouldn’t be held responsible for my actions if he’d harmed one strand of Dash’s fur.
I strode away from the stalls, then pulled up abruptly when I realised I had no idea where I was going. How would Dash have even got out of the barn? If the stranger had left the gate and the door open, then Dash may have wandered out, but I struggled to believe he would do that.
Oh, Christmas crackers, I’d never been so scared. What would Santa do if I couldn’t find Dash? Christmas would be ruined. All those children without gifts on Christmas Day. I shuddered at just the thought.
Of course, it had to be the year that Santa’s back-up reindeer had retired. Vixen was too old to keep pulling the sleigh, and as all the reindeer before her, she had lost the ability to fly.
The one place I could think Dash might go was down by the shoreline—he loved splashing in the shallow water. Decision made, I hurried off in that direction, only to be disappointed by the deserted beach with not another soul in sight either way in the distance.
With heavy feet I made my way back to the main street of Christmas Cove in the direction of Santa’s workshop, checking every doorway and snowbank on the way but still no sight of Dash. Not a single hoofprint anywhere.
I didn’t relish the idea of telling Santa Dash was missing. He’d already been worried and now he had every right to be. Putting off the inevitable, I veered back towards the barn. Checking Dash’s stall one last time wouldn’t hurt, and maybe he’d returned in the time I’d been wandering around. Wishful thinking. I didn’t care.
The barn door was closed, and I yanked it open with a creak of the rollers. The echo of my footsteps bounced off the high ceiling—it was quieter than normal. Maybe the other reindeer sensed there was something amiss. But when I reached Dash’s stall, I pulled up short. Because there he was, stretched out on the hay, fast asleep. His antlers rested against the wall and his black, fur-covered chest gently rose and fell, his legs extended to the side, hooves twitching as if he was walking in his sleep.
I eased the gate to his stall open, trying not to wake him while I blinked the moisture from my eyes and told myself to calm down. He was safe. That was all that mattered. Kneeling beside him, I ran my hand along his neck and down his back. His fur was soft beneath my fingers, warmth radiating from him. I stroked him over and over, reassuring myself that he was here, that he was safe.
After a few minutes Dash lifted his head and his emerald-coloured eyes pierced me, blinking sleepily.
“Hey. I didn’t mean to wake you. It was just…I couldn’t find you. You were gone, and I panicked.”
Dash’s eyes widened as though he could understand every word and hadn’t meant to worry me. I stroked a single finger down his snout. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to scare me. And you’re back now, and that’s all that matters, my favourite boy.”
His mouth opened when I called him that, like he wanted to say something, and I couldn’t help but remember the stranger saying those same words to me earlier.
Dash closed his eyes and worry spiked my veins. Was there something wrong with him? “Dash?”
His head lowered and he uttered a strange half moan that made me reach for him. But his antlers receded in front of my eyes, and I snatched my hand back. Transfixed, I watched as his pelt disappeared to be replaced by olive-coloured skin, his legs shortened, hooves vanishing and forming into hands and feet instead.
Not quite comprehending what was happening, I shuffled backwards until my back hit the wall. By which time Dash the reindeer had vanished, only to be replaced by the naked stranger from earlier. Was it possible the man hadn’t been lying when he’d said he really was Dash?
As I eyed him up, I had to admit there was…something about him that made me feel as though I knew him even though I’d never seen anyone like him before. His hair was short on the sides and black, the longer strands on top were white, almost as if he had two layers. Like a reindeer’s pelt. I shook my head to get rid of the errant thought, but how could I deny it when I’d seen him turn into a human in front of me?
His short beard and eyebrows were jet black, which made the contrast to his emerald eyes even more striking—eyes I recognised. He looked shorter than me by a few inches, but then, as an elf, I had long legs that helped me hit six feet. Whereas I was quite slender, he was on the stockier side—all muscle and chest fur. And the longer I stared at him, the more it felt as if I knew him, which was weird, to say the least.
The man swallowed and held his palms up to me. “I didn’t go anywhere, I was right here when you left. I know you didn’t believe me earlier, but here I am right in front of you. I’m Dash.”
Yes, there he was in all his naked glory. Again.
Beth Laycock’s books are influenced by her time living overseas as well as the gritty, urban landscape of the north of England where she grew up. She has been reading romance since she was old enough to tell herself that line every book lover does—just one more chapter.
As a teenager, she attempted to write her first novel, and many more since then are still gathering dust on her bookshelf. It wasn’t until she discovered the M/M genre that her muse showed up and refused to quit telling her stories about beautiful men finding love together. She hasn’t stopped scribbling them down since. Beth’s muse usually shows up when she is in the shower, is allergic to cleaning, rarely lets her watch TV, and insists she drinks copious amounts of coffee so she can turn caffeine into words.
Beth’s books range from sweet to sexy, long to short, contemporary to paranormal, but a HEA is always guaranteed.
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