Model Christmas

By Jaime Samms

Sebastian 's ideal Christmas looks nothing like his picture-perfect childhood experiences, but neither should it be spent wandering the cold streets alone and homeless.

Cody has no time for the holidays if he wants to eat. He needs a new model for his next commission--and he needs him now.

Seb can't go home and Cody's model took his pay and left. Both men are in dire straits, so when they meet over soup-kitchen chili they each see the answer to their problems in the other.

They never expected more than a means to an end, but now, that perfect Christmas might be as simple as seeing what's right in front of them

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jaime Samms
• Release date: Dec 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393358251

Jaime Samms

Jaime Samms is a plaid-hearted Canadian who spends the too-long winters writing stories about love between men and the too-short summers digging in the garden. There are dust bunnies in the corners of her house—which she blames on a husky named Kai. There are dishes on the counter—which is clearly because teenagers! There is hot coffee in the pot and the occasional meal to keep her from starving—because her husband is remarkable and patient. A multi-published author whose work has been translated into French, Italian, and German, Jaime delights in the intricate dance of words that leads her through tales of the lost and broken hearted men she writes about to the love stories that find and mend them. And when the muse is being stubborn, she also makes pretty things with yarn and fabric scraps because in her world, no heart is too broken to love, and nothing is too worn or tired it can’t be upcycled into something beautiful. All it takes is determination and the ability to see life a little bit left of center.

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Acknowledgements

Writing is a lonely business. Authoring takes a villiage, so here are my thanks to my small villiage who helped me get this done.

Thanks Mary, for helping me find my courage. This is a small step, but you know I wouldn't have made it this far without you.

Thanks Amy. You might think that five minutes you spent over chat was nothing. It wasn't nothing.

Thanks Rhys for the last-minute cheerleading (because I know that’s exactly how you imagine people see you). But your late-night pep talk was more needed than you know.

Model Christmas

Grey. Slate. Gunmetal .... Sebastian ticked off ways to describe the Vancouver sky as he ambled down the street. Dismal and grungy came to mind. The very infrequent appearance of the west coast sun suited Sebastian fine, though. Who needed that much illumination on his bleak life? He might have to look too close at the dregs he had left and that would suck. He kicked a pebble. It bounced off the stone foundation of St. Patrick’s church and disappeared down a sidewalk grate.

Like me. Disappeared.

Maybe his sister Emily had been right about moving out here with Terry a month before Christmas and without a job lined up. Terry had found them a room to rent, but he’d left town a week ago, saying he couldn’t stand the gloom.

Seb wasn’t sure if Terry had meant the weather, or him. Either way, now he was alone in that drafty old house with a leering, fifty-something degenerate super creeping on him, and a mountain of a man who might be a professional wrestler but hardly ever made an appearance outside his room at the end of the hall. Seb got the impression the big guy didn’t like their super, either. The old man gave Seb a skin-crawling, filthy sensation all the soap in the world might not wash off.

The creepy landlord, the fouled relationship that never got off the ground in the first place, and the dearth of jobs all made the idea of disappearing perfectly reasonable. But he couldn’t afford to move, and it would have to get a whole lot worse before he considered going home. His wasn’t the kind of family that let a guy walk out without a fuss. Going back would be more than humiliating. Going back would mean giving up his life. And even if it sucked right now, at least the life he had was his.

So today, he’d dug up his last bits of change and left the room to find a meal and, hopefully, a job. He’d been picky at first, but considering his diminishing resources, he was considering being less so. Jilly’s Chili Wagon was a cheap, charitable place that served hot meals to the homeless at prices that only managed to be enough to keep it running. He’d never imagined himself in a position to need a handout. He’d spent the last three days resisting the idea. Now his gut cramped and no amount of pride would fill the void.

Down the street, shuffling toward him, an old derelict with a chili bowl clutched close to his dirty coat told him he was on the right track. The man was one of the older regulars he saw around the neighbourhood. There were many, lots around his own age and he’d seen Terry talking to a few of them over the weeks they’d been here. Now he looked for some of those familiar faces. Finding them would lead him to Jilly’s. The wagon moved frequently since the city wasn’t keen on the clientele the charity attracted gathering in one place.

He found it, eventually, placed his order without making eye contact with the tiny Asian girl working the counter today, and waited, watching