Chance,

I never in a million years thought I would want a guy who smells like a tree and probably hugs them on the daily, but alas, you've somehow snuck your sexy, khaki-covered ass into my life. It doesn't help that we're stuck living in this apartment together for God knows how long, but I can't stop thinking about that kiss. I know I said it was one and done, and maybe that's the smart thing to do since I'm not convinced of your emotional availability. Maybe I'm a masochist. Or, maybe I might kind of like you. I said what I said.

No regrets, Marcos~

***

Marcos,

Your ability to simultaneously compliment and insult me is probably one of my favorite things about you. I think it's part of your charm. Does that make me a masochist as well? I definitely like to torture myself. The night I kissed you, I knew it had the potential to push you away, but I couldn't stop myself from wanting you. I still can't. You can flirt and bully me all you like. I'm not going anywhere. I've finally found my home, and it's here. And just in case you need me to be more specific, I like you too.

Forever, con amor…

Chance~

Forever, Con Amor is an interconnected, stand alone, slow burn, contemporary, MM opposites attract romance that is heavy on humor, light on angst, and features an age gap, a sexy yoga session, heels, and a few passive aggressive quips about cargo pants, hugging trees, and kale.

TW: One scene with mild violence.

To whom it may concern,

I can't be sure what you're into, that being said, if you like sexy and sweet romance with a whole lot of quirk, keep reading...

Ever since Clay Saxon's parents passed away a year ago, he's been stuck in a rut, running their business, and suffering from the worst writer's block ever. But when Syrus Albie, aka yellow sweater guy, (you'll see) walks into The End Book Store, Clay's mundane little world turns to sunshine.

I don't want to ruin it, but I can definitely say, when an introverted as hell narrator finally meets his favorite author and crush, all of his usual protocols go up in flames.

Set in the For Him World, this standalone is the perfect introduction or addition to this steamy MM collection.

Sincerely yours, A.M. JOHNSON

Parker,

I never meant for any of this to happen, to fall for you. It doesn't matter that we're both adults, or how much we want this to work. The college policy is clear. I can't see a way around this without one of us getting hurt. If I would’ve known who you were when we met online, I would have never pursued a relationship. I'm new to all of this, and besides my daughter, getting to know you has been the best thing to ever happen to me. But I can't make you hide again. I won't. It's not fair to either of us.

Deepest regrets,

Donovan

****

Dear Mr. Brody,

You're right, we are adults. I'm twenty-four years old, and I think I can decide for myself what's best for me. If this is about you losing your job, I'll walk away. But if this is you trying to protect me, then you're an idiot. I want you. I care about you. My past isn't an issue. What we're doing… it isn't the same thing. If we have to hide, so be it. I'm not ready to let you go.

Your Lost Boy,

Parker

Dear Mr. Brody is an interconnected standalone, contemporary, MM slow burn romance that is light on angst and features, dating app shenanigans, student/professor fraternization, single dad swoonery, waffles, "Peter Pan" references, and a fish named Tony.

TW: Brief mention of a past assault on page without graphic detail.