QSFer Kim Fielding has a new MM fantasy holiday romance out: Shelf-Made Man.
Tobias Lykke is big, awkward, and accustomed to spending his holidays alone. This year, however, his godmother—who may or may not be an Italian countess—gives him an elf doll originally entrusted to her by her second husband, who might or might not have been a wizard.
An evening of THC snickerdoodles and an offhand wish later, Tobias finds himself faced with a living, breathing elf—and a royal elf at that—with an exceptionally traumatic past. Bloodthirsty trolls are on a mission to recapture Prince Alfie, and the search for answers leads Tobias to unexpected discoveries about himself… and deep feelings for Alfie. Now, they just need to live long enough to make sense of it all.
Amazon | Audible | B&N
Excerpt
Aunt Virginia returned several minutes later. He caught a glimpse of her when the door opened, and she appeared to be carrying a shoebox. Then she closed the door and returned to her chair.
“You know, Tobias, in your letters you speak a good deal about your work. But what about your personal life? Are you dating someone, perhaps?”
He was glad she couldn’t see him wince. “Not really.” There were hookups now and then, but most of them proved disappointing.
“Surely there must be many eligible young men in Portland. Are they too foolish to see your value?”
“I guess I just haven’t clicked with anyone. But it’s okay. Work keeps me busy, and—”
“Yes.” There was a tapping that sounded like her fingers on cardboard. “When I was a young woman, I had so many adventures. You can’t even imagine them all. And in between husbands, I had dozens of lovers. Mostly men, although some lovely women as well. Ah, it was wonderful.”
She paused as if to allow this to sink in. He’d always known her as an old woman who dressed beautifully but kept herself tucked away in her apartment. His mother once told him that if Aunt Virginia went out, she did so at night. It had never occurred to Tobias that she might have been pretty wild during her youth. Although maybe the nude paintings on her walls should have been a clue.
When she continued, she wounded wistful. “I settled down when I married il conte, of course. He was such a fine man. Very kind and intelligent—and ten years my junior. I thought we’d have the rest of our lives together. But alas, he grew ill, and… and our time was cut short. By the time I had mourned enough and was ready to continue my life, I was well past the flower of youth. I was no longer the girl people admired in paintings.”
“But—”
“Hush. Let me finish. I withdrew, Toby. I could not face the world with my wrinkles and gray hair, so I tucked myself away. The older I became, the deeper I burrowed. Until now, when so few days remain to me and I find myself entirely unable to unlock the cage I’ve put myself in.”
Tobias’s throat felt tight. “But you’re such a fascinating person, my lady. I’ve never met anyone as interesting as you. It’s a shame to deny the world your company. I’d be happy to escort you anywhere you wish.”
“Oh, you are a dear boy, but it’s simply no longer possible. Do not fret, however. I have made peace with it. I only mention it because I am afraid you are locking yourself away as well, and you’re far too young and vital for this. Carpe diem, gather ye rosebuds, or as your generation likes to say, YOLO.”
“I, um….” Tobias didn’t know how to respond to this. She was correct that he’d been fairly hermity, and not by choice. Unlike her, though, he was no beauty. He was weird, and pretty boring, and had a really hard time connecting with people. He’d never had many friends as a child, instead being the type of kid who spent recesses sitting against a wall and reading a book, pretending he didn’t mind that nobody wanted to play with him.
“You deserve happiness,” Aunt Virginia said. “If you’re happy alone and at home, that’s perfectly fine. But if you’re not, don’t wait too long to change things, dear. The years slip by faster than you think.” She stood, skirts rustling, and set the box on the lamp table, then returned to her seat.
“Thank you for caring about me,” Tobias said, meaning it. He didn’t tell her that he had no clue how to follow her advice.
“I’m afraid that I must end our visit. You came all this way to see me, and you are such a delight, but I’m ancient and I tire easily.”
He stood quickly. “Of course. My lady, is there anything I can do for you? Errands? Things that need fixing?”
“I’m quite set, my dear boy, but it’s very kind of you to ask. Please take your box before you go.”
By now his eyes had adapted to the dark, and although he still couldn’t see her well, he made it to the table without tripping over anything. He picked up the box and tucked it under one arm.
“Don’t open it until you get home.”
He suppressed a groan. That was over six hundred miles. His curiosity was going to kill him. “Okay.”
“Oh, and one more thing. Do you have plans for Christmas?”
“Would you like to spend it together?” he asked, surprised. It was only a week away, and they hadn’t spent the holidays together since he was a boy.
“I prefer to celebrate alone, thank you. I merely wished to point out that at some points in the year, the border between the possible and the impossible becomes more permeable. The later part of December—with the Solstice and Christmas—is one of those times. My second husband and I used to… well, perhaps those memories are better kept to myself.” She chuckled. “It’s a good time to be daring, Tobias. To try something new.”
Now he was just confused. Maybe being tired was making her confused too. But he thanked her nonetheless, and she thanked him for visiting and for the gift he’d brought, and then he let himself out.
In the elevator on the way down, it felt as if something shifted inside the box, and he nearly opened it. But he’d promised to wait.
Author Bio
Kim Fielding is very pleased every time someone calls her eclectic. Winner of the 2021 BookLife Prize for Fiction, a Lambda Award finalist and three-time Foreword INDIE finalist, she has migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States and currently lives in Oregon, where she long ago ran out of bookshelf space.
She’s a university professor who dreams of being able to travel and write full time. She also dreams of having two daughters who fully appreciate her, a husband who isn’t obsessed with football, a cat who doesn’t tromp over her keyboard, and a house that cleans itself. Some dreams are more easily obtained than others.