Handspun: A Gay Christmas Romance

By Charley Descoteaux

Nobody gets lucky in a yarn shop.

For once, Mark hasn't put off his Christmas shopping until the last minute. When he heads to a yarn shop on the day before Christmas Eve, he has more on his mind than a gift for his grandmother. He hopes to get a closer look at the shop's owner and get over the crush he's been nursing for weeks. Mark wants to find his grandmother a special gift, but he's the one who's in for a holiday surprise. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: CeeTwo Publishing
• Release date: Dec 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393726692

Charley Descoteaux

Charley Descoteaux has always heard voices. She was relieved to learn they were fictional characters, and started writing when they insisted daydreaming just wasn’t good enough. In exchange, they’ve agreed to let her sleep once in a while. Charley grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area during a drought, and found her true home in the soggy Pacific Northwest. She has survived earthquakes, tornadoes, and floods, but couldn’t make it through one day without stories.Sign up for my newsletter: https://my.sendinblue.com/users/subscribe/js_id/2m34r/id/1

Book preview

Handspun

Copyright © 2020 Charley Descoteaux

Cover Art: CeeTwo Publishing

Warnings: This book contains sexually explicit content, which may only be suitable for mature readers.

Nobody gets lucky in a yarn shop.

For once, Mark hasn’t put off his Christmas shopping until the last minute. When he heads to a yarn shop on the day before Christmas Eve, he has more on his mind than a gift for his grandmother. He hopes to get a closer look at the shop’s owner and get over the crush he’s been nursing for weeks. Mark wants to find his grandmother a special gift, but he’s the one who’s in for a holiday surprise.

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Chapter One

Mark left the jobsite early on the day before Christmas Eve to get his shopping done before the last minute for a change. He only had one gift to buy, but it was important to get it right.

When he was growing up, he’d made gifts for his grandma for every occasion. Once high school and his apprenticeship were in the rearview mirror, though, he’d gotten lazy. She hadn’t complained. He’d filled her countertops with the latest gadgets to make her life easier, and then had expanded to tech toys like eReaders and home theater systems. But she still kept his birdhouses and wooden bowls alongside her SmartTV and collection of antique music boxes.

Not this year, he muttered to himself. Nobody was around to hear—not much foot traffic at a suburban strip mall at noon, in the rain. Even with less than forty-eight hours until Christmas.

He’d picked this particular strip mall in a so-new-it-shone area of town because of a certain someone. Mark had no idea what the guy’s name was, or anything about him beyond where he worked. Only that he couldn’t get him out of his mind. There was something about him…

Mark had just wrapped-up the finish work on a bathroom remodel in a brand-new condo in the neighborhood and had seen the ridiculously handsome man through the window. Whenever he’d made a run to the home improvement store anchoring the mall, he’d felt self-conscious. Even more so when he parked in a spot that allowed him to see inside the yarn shop.

And yet, he had volunteered to run for supplies every time the crew needed anything.

Mark never thought he’d go into a yarn shop by himself. He’d driven his grandma a few times—when her car had been in the shop or for a birthday surprise—but this was basically uncharted territory. He was completely out of his element, which was as unfamiliar as the shop itself.

Christmas decorations and red, white, and green yarn filled the windows that were framed with a tasteful frosting of snow and a few hand painted snowflakes. As Mark stood there contemplating just what in the name of holiday cheer he thought he was doing, he walked to the center of the window.

Holy Christmas, he’s even hotter close up.

A grin and the lift of one eyebrow told Mark he’d been staring. Or leering.

He went inside before he could change his mind.

Hello, and how may I help you today?

Was that a leer? Or maybe a slight ogle?

Um, hi. I’m…I just need to look around a little. Thanks.

Mark silently berated himself for walking away from his crush. In his defense, he’d been sure that actually meeting the man—standing face to face with him and speaking to him—would end the infatuation as fast as a pin ended a balloon. Instead,