All right, I'm gonna sprint for a bit if anyone wants to come along. I'm going for 1,000 words if my music will stop crashing.

#yulebesorry #sprint #writingcommunity #romancelandia

“I know. Hey, merry Christmas, everybody!” They whoop in response, and Drew surges forward toward the presents around the tree in the front window. Someone has put a cheerful fireplace video on the TV, but the music is coming from someone’s phone. “What song is this?” Sammy asks, curling up on the floor next to the couch. Colby picks up his phone and looks at the screen. “Christmastime (Oh Yeah) by the Barenaked Ladies. I think this is one of Chance’s.” “It is,” Evan says, sipping something from a mug, “and mine’s coming up next. Vince Guaraldi Trio for the win.” “They’re all quite picky about music, as you might imagine, so we came up with a group playlist.” I explain as I nudge him with my toe. “You can sit on the couch.” “There’s not room for everyone,” he says dismissively. “What did you pick?” “Pardon?” He’s staring up at me with those dark, sultry eyes, and the angle is giving me ideas. Really, body? You just got off. “Which songs did you add?” “Oh, I, uh…” Drew puts a green package with snowmen all over it into my hands, and I thank him. Sammy’s still watching me expectantly. Dang. “You didn’t add one, did you?” He’s smirking now, and I fiddle with the thin ribbon on the package instinctively. “Everyone has different tastes…” “I tell you what: I’ll sit on the sofa if you add a song to the playlist.” “Just one?” He nods slowly, still solely focused on me despite the hubbub around the room. “But it has to be one you really want. One you listened to as a kid. One that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, even if it’s something you don’t think we’ll like.”

A book cover with two Chicanx men holding each other, the taller one behind the shorter one, wearing Christmas sweaters and smiling. The taller one has glasses, and both have light beards. Behind them, a Christmas tree with lights and a glitter star sits. The title is Yule Be Sorry: A holiday M/M romance with a pie nearby. The author is me, London Price.

Writing report: Heeey, we finally made it to Christmas morning! (Well, roommate Christmas, anyway.) And as usual, Sammy's feeling spicier than the cinnamon rolls... #yulebesorry

A few magical moments from our holiday Menagerie show, Yule Be Sorry, held at the stunning The Bayside Cafe and Event Center! Thank you to everyone who joined us for a night of cheer, chaos, and cabaret magic. ❄️

#TenebreaCabaret #Menagerie #YuleBeSorry #Everettdrag #BaysideCafe

The first of the new posters have started going up!!!!

Catch our holiday Menagerie show - Yule Be Sorry - on December 18th at the NEW The Bayside Cafe Event Center (2913 t. Marine View Drive, Everett 98201)

Don't miss our biggest holiday show yet! 🎄

#TenebraeCabaret #Menagerie #YuleBeSorry

tony: I have to go back to work now, sorry Sammy: no problem, it was nice to talk tony: it was nice tony: miss you I am starting to see why he avoided hookups; this man is terrible at being casual. But as someone who’s very happy to be with him, I can’t say I’m upset about it…which is not to say that I know how to respond to that. I can’t make a joke, which is my go-to when things get too real. Why does it have to be serious, though? We’re just temporary: we both know that. So…maybe I just…tell the truth? I don’t want to lead him on, but I wouldn’t be unhappy if we kept this thing going past its expiration date. But is that what he’s trying to say, or is he just being sweet? Oh, fuck it. Sammy: miss you too

Two Chicanx men hold each other wearing holiday sweaters in front of a lit Christmas tree. Neither is looking at the camera. The title is Yule Be Sorry by London Price

How to get Captain Hookup to admit his feelings? Just be genuine, apparently. #yulebesorry

I turn back to the mirror to check my appearance again: I picked a crimson dress shirt, because it’s Christmas-y, and it’ll hopefully help people not to mistake me for wait staff. Same with my gray slacks: the black was too much. I may or may not have pulled out clothes I haven’t worn in years for this…I’m a little surprised they still fit. I gave my hair a trim with the electric razor, I even shined my shoes. I look sharp. Then I notice that Sammy’s frowning at me in the mirror. “What?” “You took out some of your piercings.” “So? I always take them out for work.” He puts a hand on my lower back possessively. “But you’re not going to work. You’re going to a party.” With me is the unspoken part, but I feel it anyway. “You don’t need to do that for them. Just be yourself.” “What’s the difference? I take them out on stage.” Pulling on my elbow, he turns me until we’re face to face. “The difference is that this isn’t a performance. Not unless you make it one.” He’s watching me so earnestly, his dark gaze boring into mine, intense yet tender. “Got it?”

Two dark haired Chicanx men wearing sweaters hold each other near a lit Christmas tree. Neither is looking at the camera. The text reads "Yule Be Sorry: A Low-Angst M/M Romance by London Price." That's me.

I love them, your honor.
#yulebesorry #queerbooks #lgbtqreads 🩵📚💙🌈

Sunday, November 26th He did drive me home, mostly because by the time we came up for air from my first make-out session, I discovered the bus had left ten minutes ago. Sammy kept grinning at me all the way there. And making me laugh. He likes it when I laugh, and it’s not hard, because he’s funny. In fact, he’s still doing it. Sammy: have you tried boysenberries tony: what is a boysenberry Sammy: Mmm, that settles it. You’ll have to come over for more pie. Sammy: in the name of science [find a dirty way to use pie during sex] tony: I know you’re making up that word. Sammy: you don’t believe me? He sends an almost-in-tears face. Sammy: that hurts, Antonio Sammy: also, suck it, boysenberries are real He sends me a link to the history of boysenberries, and I groan. Sammy: no pie for you

A book cover with two Chicanx men holding each other, their foreheads touching, wearing Christmas sweaters and Santa hats. The taller one has glasses, and both have light beards. Behind them, stockings hang on the wall; above them, white twinkle lights illuminate the room. The title is Yule Be Sorry, with a tamale nearby. The author is me, London Price.

On a roll now--I wrote about 1,000 words yesterday and today. Only took until Chapter 12 to get them kissing! (Slow burns. WHY??) Also, the brackets are notes to myself, so that's just a preview of coming attractions. 😅 #yulebesorry 💙📚🌈📚💙🌶️📚

RMW @penultimateRMW OMG so I hooked up with a guy last night who has abs and I was like 'fuck you have actual abs' and you know what he said to me? 'So do you, they're just under here' and he stroked my tummy adoringly and told me I was a big gorgeous boy. Reader, I felt gorgeous.

Strong Antonio and Sammy vibes. 🥹 #yulebesorry

I catch Sammy's gaze across the table, and I can tell from the look in his eyes that it. is. on. I know he's good at poker; he played last year and lost right at the end. I've got a funny feeling he's back for more than money. This is about pride.
#yulebesorry

A Merry krampusnacht to all 👹⛓️🕯️🎄 #krampus #merrycreepmas #Yulebesorry