Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Dawson West had to leave to see if his dreams could become reality, but what he didn’t count on was that once he had the world at his feet, he’d miss the man who’d held him tight. Between the endless climb toward greatness and the pitfalls of addiction, Dawson lost himself for a while, but that doesn’t mean he stopped loving Chris. Not wanting his love to see him broken, he makes certain he’s clean and sober when he finally comes home. Going radio silent while becoming the man Chris deserves seemed like a good idea at the time, but now…
Now, Chris has a problem. Dawson is back, out of the blue, and if Chris lets him return to rocking his club, is that an invitation for his heart as well? How can Chris ever trust again, even if it is the season?
Once Upon A Christmas Song is a part of the multi-author series Once Upon A Holiday Story. Each book can be read as a standalone and in any order. What links these books together is The Hook’s Book Nook Traveling Library, a library on wheels owned by two old ladies in love.
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ONE
It was raining, and while I loved the sound of it and the way it made everything smell, and mostly how everything looked immediately after, all glistening and bright, it did have the effect of keeping many tourists inside until it stopped. That was no good for me. I needed people walking up and down the 500 block of Frenchmen Street where my place was, and popping in for a drink. We served prize-winning cocktails at La Belle Vie, thanks to my mixologists, Xola Bass and Darcy Lee, who had individually and together won several awards both locally and nationally.
The issue was, as good as the drinks were, along with our food—a Caribbean-Creole mix thanks to my award-winning chef, Georgine Joseph—without the live music we were famous for, bridal parties walking the Quarter wouldn’t pop in and stay until closing. People looking to dance, not simply stand and listen to jazz, wouldn’t stop and show off their moves for their dates and buy drink after drink. Early in the evening, there was a space between the stage and the tables where people mingled. That was when we had the soloists, the artists, those selling CDs and looking for their big break. Later in the evening, between ten and closing—which was at two in the morning Friday and Saturday night, midnight on weekdays—was when the house band went on, and the place filled up with a raucous crowd, and people sitting at tables could have someone in their lap at any moment. We were always packed, and the bulk of our money was made on beer and shots while people sang along to the music.
But on Monday a week ago, after closing at midnight, Jimmy Jake and the Polecats quit.
“Stupid name,” I muttered under my breath.
“Boss?” asked Conner Lee, Darcy’s little brother and one of my barbacks, as he walked by me with a tray of dirty glassware. “Did you say something?”
“No,” Xola replied, lifting the pass-through so he could walk behind the bar. “Your boss is simply lamenting our abandonment by Jimmy Jake and the lame-ass pieces of shit he calls a band.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Well, considering no one else wanted them and Chris was the only one to give them a chance—and they were, no question, mediocre at best—I can understand the sentiment.”
“It was the best thing that could have happened,” said Simone Howard, my manager, as she took a seat beside me at the bar. “We need to talk to that booking agent.”
I shook my head. “We’ve always had a house band.”
“It’s not a sustainable solution anymore,” she told me for the five hundredth time.
“But if you have someone new every night, how can you ever develop a following?”
Simone turned to look at Merle Jennings, my head server, who was stacking our latest alcohol shipment on the shelves above the bar. “Say something.”
“The house band is dead,” he reiterated his point from two days ago. “Xola’s right, Simone’s right, Pete’s right, everyone’s right when we all told you we don’t need something constant, we need something constantly evolving.”