Miracle on Three Kings’ Day

by Beth Laycock

Miracle on Three Kings' Day - Beth Laycock
ISBN: 978-1-64405-067-5

Levi’s family knows he needs to find a way out of his funk and be a part of the world again. His brother, Jesse, invites Levi to join him in sunny Spain for the holidays, but a delay at the airport finds Levi at Jesse’s home while his brother is stranded in Scotland. Luckily Alejandro—Alex—is on hand with a key, a friendly smile, and a willingness to keep Levi company. He might even manage to draw Levi out of his shell for some mutual flirting.

Levi surprises himself when he accepts an invitation to spend New Year’s Eve with Alex at Alex’s café, but is he ready for more when it means jumping back into life feetfirst? Besides, with an ocean between them and Alex hiding a part of his life that Levi isn’t sure he can handle, they’ll need their own Three Kings’ Day miracle to stay together.

A story from the Dreamspinner Press 2018 Advent Calendar "Warmest Wishes."


THE TAXI turned off the single road through El Morche, and I caught my first glimpse of the sea. You’re not in New York anymore, Dorothy. I snorted because I was no Dorothy, and this was no big adventure. It was my first time traveling alone, though. My first time visiting Spain. My first time leaving the US. Two weeks of sea, sun, and sand. A fortnight where I didn’t have to force myself to try to write a story. Or find an old one I could recycle and submit to a magazine hoping they would pay me something for it.


The car stopped outside a whitewashed villa, and I handed over a twenty euro note. “Gracias.” See, the Spanish lessons were paying off. The driver grabbed my luggage from the trunk as I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. “Gracias.” He shot off a string of syllables I assumed was supposed to be a sentence, and I smiled back at him, clueless. Yes, the lessons had really helped. Not. The driver climbed back in behind the wheel and drove off.

I dragged my suitcase down the terra-cotta-tiled patio to the front door, took a deep breath filled with that fresh ozone scent wafting off the sea, and my shoulders dropped as the sun warmed my face. I rapped on the door, shifted from foot to foot as I waited for Jesse to answer, then took a step back to look over at the windows, but the lowered metal blinds revealed nothing. I knocked again, then fished my cell out of my jeans and pulled up the contact details for my brother. When there was still no sound of movement from inside, I hit dial and the ringtone droned on and on and on. Was he still in bed? Mom always said I was the lazy one when in truth Jesse held that title, my brother just better at hiding it from Mum than me. It was almost lunchtime, but it was Saturday. The call went to voicemail, so I hung up.

I turned in a slow circle and debated what to do. The lure of the ocean was too much, so I slipped my cell into my pocket, slid my case under the table out of sight, and strolled across the street, took in a salty-laced breath. God, living that close to the coast would never get old. The cold, dirty streets of New York were a world away. Golden brown sand stretched as far as I could see. Waves crashed, spewing white foam, and in the distance, a palm tree swayed in the breeze, adding to the surrealness of the view.

And for the first time in too long, I got that itch of a story idea forming at the back of my mind. How many people, apart from those who lived there, knew this place even existed? I could see the headline: Hidden Gems of Spain. No, that was terrible and so cliché. But so far the only spark of an idea I’d had in months, so I’d take it for now.


Bonus epilogue available free at http://bethlaycock.com/newsletter

About the Author

Beth Laycock’s books are influenced by her time living overseas as well as the gritty, urban landscape of the north of England where she grew up. She has been reading romance since she was old enough to tell herself that line every book lover does—just one more chapter.

As a teenager, she attempted to write her first novel, and many more since then are still gathering dust on her bookshelf. It wasn’t until she discovered the M/M genre that her muse showed up and refused to quit telling her stories about beautiful men finding love together. She hasn’t stopped scribbling them down since. Beth’s muse usually shows up when she is in the shower, is allergic to cleaning, rarely lets her watch TV, and insists she drinks copious amounts of coffee so she can turn caffeine into words.

When not writing or reading, Beth can be found procrastinating on social media or being dragged around the English countryside by her dog.

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