"A Dark Roasted Christmas" is now available at Dark Roast Press!!
"A Dark Roasted Christmas" has four heart warming shorts that we are sure you will love. Featuring authors Jesse Fox, Christopher Newman, Angelia Sparrow and H.S.Kinn; this holiday novel is a perfect stocking stuffer gift or a way to introduce yourself to Dark Roast Press.
Available Now: http://darkroastpress.com/darkroastxmas.php
Price: $2.99 US Dollars
Beyond the window, stenciled with frost, which caught the pale firelight in rainbows skimming across the glass, snow fell. It had been gentle at first, now the storm was a whirlwind of ephemeral crystal that smothered everything in layers of blinding white. It would have been the perfect Christmas Eve except for one thing-Aaron wasn’t here.
Jason Burns knew he shouldn’t be angry, but he was. They’d planned this trip for months, a celebration of the night they’d met fifteen years ago. At the last moment, the bottom fell out and now he was standing alone watching the snow fall, nursing a mug of steaming coffee. He’d known that being in a relationship with a police officer would be hard, but there were times he hated coming second to the world.
Sighing softly, he turned from the window, gaze moving around the main room of the rental cabin they’d chosen for the holiday. He’d traveled up from Springfield two days earlier to make sure everything was in place, sacrificing two nights without the warmth of his lover to comfort him as it had for so many years. They were supposed to spend the holidays together in this private heaven until the New Year rang in, but at the last possible moment Aaron had called. Aaron had begged him to understand: there’d been an accident, a catastrophic pileup along I-65, and being the man he was, he needed to be there to help the victims.
Jason’s eyes settled on the tree as he crossed the room, fingers trailing along the soft, flexible blue-green needles of the huge white pine in the corner near the fireplace. They had planned to decorate the tree tonight, but from the looks of the storm Aaron wasn’t going to make it. He released another frustrated sigh, moved back through the silent house and into the kitchen. With trembling hands, knuckles white with suppressed fear, he grasped the coffee pot and tipped it to refresh his coffee. He couldn’t even taste the coffee, to be honest, but the action soothed him as he stood at the sink and watched the snow tumbling down in a glittering curtain of white beyond the window.
Where are you, Aaron? he wondered.
At that moment, amidst the psychedelic smear of emergency vehicle lights, Aaron Danvers was hip deep in snow alongside I-65 just on the other side of what remained of a guardrail– now it was nothing more than a twisted mockery of one. Twenty yards from the road, a mini-van lay half-buried in the snow on its passenger side. The windshield was shattered, the roof crushed, and the driver’s door dangled from one mangled hinge. The vehicle’s wheels were still spinning idly. From inside the van he could hear a small child crying and his gut twisted as he fought his way through the drifting snow. This was the worst snowstorm that the Ozarks had seen in fifteen years, and the fact that it had been fifteen years didn’t escape his notice. It was an anniversary…