Release Tour, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway:
By Leta Blake
A Camp Bay Christmas Novel
North’s Christmas is ruined when a d*ck pic intended for his hook-up goes viral. Can his ex-bodyguard convince him he has nothing to be ashamed about?
Located on the shores of Lake Pend Oreille in beautiful Northern Idaho, Camp Bay Chalet is a discrete and cozy B&B, popular with both locals and minor celebrities for its fabulous holiday weekends.
The pic seen around the world….
The son of Hollywood royalty, North Astor-Ford has lived his entire life in the public’s eye. He knows better than anyone that someone is always watching.
So when one not-so-innocent picture accidentally ends up crossposted across all his social media, North is left humiliated and scared. With no one to turn to he flees to Camp Bay Chalet to be close to the man he used to count on to protect him from the world.
Liam’s life has been in a holding pattern since the moment North fired him three years ago, even if it was for the best. A romance between a bodyguard and his client would’ve caused exactly the sort of scandal Liam was hired to prevent.
Now that North is back in his orbit, Liam’s going to do what he does best, protect North from the world. And maybe, just maybe, the charm of a Camp Bay Chalet Christmas will be enough to heal North and bring about the romance they’ve both always wanted.
North’s Pole takes place in the Camp Bay shared universe, but can be read as a stand-alone. Look for more of the Camp Bay universe in Stolen Christmas by Marie Sexton. ( https://readerlinks.com/l/2891879 )
It wasn’t like I’d wanted to show the entire fucking world my “engorged cock,” as the angry mob on Twitter kept calling it. I hadn’t meant for anyone to see it except for HungryTop34, and I’d only shown him because we’d sexted a few times before, and this time he’d begged to see “the whole package.”
Maybe it wasn’t smart of me (you think?), but I’d sent a picture of my “package.” A great shot of it, too. It took twenty minutes just to get the right angle. For his eyes only!
Or so I’d thought.
Because somehow? What I actually did? Was share the photo to my Instagram story, which automatically cross-posted to my Twitter, Facebook, and Snapchat. How had I made such an idiotic mistake? Had I really been that horny and excited I’d gotten confused between the chat on my hookup app and my Insta story?
All signs pointed to yes.
There I was, leaning back in bed, hand around my dick, waiting to hear what HungryTop34 thought of my “package,” when my phone began pinging wildly with messages from every social media app I had and with incoming texts from everyone I knew.
Blinking at comments like, “Ew, bro wtf,” I sat in stunned confusion until someone commented, “That’s your dick?!?”
That was when I’d felt it. Just the way everyone described.
My blood turned cold, and my stomach dropped with a horrifying swoop. Vomit surged up my throat, and I feared I was about to heave all over my bed. Luckily, I made it to the bathroom first.
Once I stopped puking and got my brain together enough to figure out I should do something about my massive, enormous, horrible error, my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t get the pictures deleted fast enough. I tried. I really did try.
But it was far too late.
Afterward, my mind went blank, like someone had painted it over with that bumpy ceiling spackle they have in old buildings, or maybe it was more like a snowstorm. Just raging, howling, whiteness. Along with an urgent need to escape—to hide.
I shoved some stuff into my backpack—left empty on the floor of my closet ever since I quit college last month—and took the stairs two at a time down to the parking garage. I climbed into my favorite Lexus and hightailed it out of Seattle, my home for the last two years.
At first, I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I drove blindly onto I-90, fighting traffic and panic. My phone was going bonkers. I dumped it into the central storage compartment beneath the arm rest and blared music so I couldn’t hear it vibrating.
As I drove into the darkness, my mind whirled with visions of the never-ending humiliation ahead.
Unfortunately, accidentally uploading a dick pic wasn’t my first brush with scandal. Being the child of famous people and standing to inherit millions and millions of dollars, people cared way more than they otherwise would about every little thing I said, did, thought, wore, read, watched, or listened to.
The scrutiny—that’s a word my ex-bodyguard Liam had used to describe my situation—was as intense as it was endless.
Eventually, I realized I couldn’t drive forever. It was getting late, and I was shaky with nerves and exhaustion. I needed to choose a place as a destination, but there was nowhere on earth I wanted to be. Except with Liam. I’d be safe if I were next to him.
I knew where he was living these days. At his mom’s house. In Idaho.
But that was hours and hours away, and I couldn’t just go there. What would his mom think? If her son’s former protectee showed up in the middle of the night wanting comfort after posting his dick pic for all the world to see? That’d be rude. And an Astor was never rude in public, and a Ford was never rude at all, so I had to be polite for sure. My bloodlines were counting on it.
My panic had turned to a buzzy itch beneath my skin, and as I struggled to think of where to hide out, my mind offered up one of my last memories of Liam from three Decembers ago.
“I worked at the chalet all through high school,” he’d said, his voice warm and steady, brimming with nostalgia. “It was like a second home to me.”
“Did you need a second home?” I’d asked.
He’d smiled, shiny as a penny with all that rich, red hair and his sparkling, cinnamon-brown eyes. “Don’t we all need as many places to call ‘home’ as we can get?”
Shaking the memory from my head, my car’s lights cutting out a path on the dark road, I said out loud, “I just want any kind of home right now. Anywhere to feel safe.”
An idea came to me. What if, instead of trying to get to Liam at his mom’s place, I went to the chalet where he’d once worked instead? I could stay there through Christmas Day, avoid the world and my parents, and maybe I’d get the guts to seek out Liam before I left… Apologize to him for firing him like that.
I wracked my brain for the name of the place. I remembered it rhymed, but I couldn’t quite grab hold of the details. I’d just given up when it came to me.
Camp Bay Chalet.
I pulled off the road and punched the name of the inn into my GPS.
As I hit enter, the robotic woman’s voice announced, “Starting route to Camp Bay, Idaho.”
I felt safer already.
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About the Author:
Author of the bestselling book Smoky Mountain Dreams and the fan favorite Training Season, Leta Blake’s educational and professional background is in psychology and finance, respectively. However, her passion has always been for writing. She enjoys crafting romance stories and exploring the psyches of made up people. At home in the Southern U.S., Leta works hard at achieving balance between her day job, her writing, and her family.
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