Mary Calmes – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Mary Calmes – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:29 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Mary Calmes – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 He Said he said Volume 7 Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-7-read-online-mary-calmes Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:29 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-7-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: M-M Romance Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)

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Hello all, Jory Harcourt here, and Volume 7 is for the year 2025. Right now, as we are all living through extraordinary times when life seems not just a little out of control, but insane, my hope is to provide a little bit of happy to help you take the time to breathe.

The newsletters are all about embracing the people you love, their quirks, the times you want to hug them, as well as throttle them, and, of course, relating moments of levity and light. Also, I believe that wine helps, as does driving fast, with the windows rolled down, and singing 80s and 90s hits at the top of your lungs. And dancing. Dancing with those people in your life who you can’t do without is simply the best

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

JANUARY 2025

Hello, all, and welcome to the first He Said, he said of 2025.

January came in cold and a bit snowy, but mostly just freezing. Before I catch us up, though, I have to rewind to Christmas and tell you about the excitement.

I should rephrase.

Not excitement. Horror. At least for my offspring and their friends.

The house the kids were supposed to move into, it turned out that the very nice man who leased it to them had issues with the renters who were supposed to move out at the first of the year. As in, they didn’t want to leave. When he insisted, they trashed the place. And by trashed, I mean—he’s taking them to court. From what Kola told me, there were issues with a sledgehammer being taken to the walls. It was horrible. I believe the owner documented everything, but what that meant was that the house was no longer available.

The boys—and I need to stop calling them that because all of them are in their early twenties now—basically broke down. Both Wick and Finn had given up their apartments already, and things looked a bit dire. The only one who didn’t anticipate the worst was Jake. The reason, of course, being simple. Jake always assumes everything will work out. I suspect that this is because he’s in love with my daughter. Hannah makes sure, if it’s within her power to do so, that the road in front of him is always clear.

After making phone calls herself, not asking either her father or I, nor her uncle Aaron or uncle Dane to intercede, Hannah found a place that worked for everyone. She got them all down there on Christmas Eve to look at the three-bedroom, three-and-a-half-bathroom condo in the Central Hyde Park area. The floors were all hardwood, there was central heat and air, which was amazing, and the parking was not completely horrible. Still a bit of a schlep, and everyone needed a sticker for where they were allowed to put their cars, but that was all right. Hannah had a tarp for her baby that apparently locked and was heated. I didn’t ask. The best news was that it was only a fifteen-minute walk to campus, and as Hannah said, she had supercute white boots and a new puffer coat to make the trip in.

So disaster was averted, and even better, each of the rooms was soundproofed, so nobody had to hear what anyone else was doing once the door was closed. I thought that was a bonus. The only bad part about the apartment was, there was no outside to decorate. They had a very small balcony that they wrapped lights on, around the wood railing, but that was about it. This meant that my children were available to do the yearly decorating of the backyard. No one did the roof, we had guys that came over yearly, the wonderful team from Delano Landscaping headed still by Ray Delano, now junior, the owner. It used to be his father back in 2017, but the elder Delano has since retired. They put Santa and Rudolph and the rest of the gang on the roof, as well as the lights that are all on a switch so all of the illumination happens every night on a timer. The lights not on the house are a whole other story.

“I’m sorry, what’s happening?” Finn asked me while poor Wick bent over, trying really hard not to hyperventilate.

“They’re checking the lights in the oak trees,” I explained.

“It’s fine,” Hannah assured him, munching on a bag of Flamin’ Hot Funyons. I was not a fan, probably because I could only eat maybe ten before I needed a glass of milk. I used to be much better with spice but find, lately, that those days have passed. “They’re using the harnesses from when they were wilderness leaders or something like that. It’s what the logging guys use.”

Finn looked at her, not at all, if his horrified expression was any indication, comforted and then back at Kola, thirty feet up in the air. Harper was in the next one over, and Jake was up the highest, in our ancient oak that had been big when we moved in, a good fifty feet off the ground.

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Advertisement He Said he said Volume 6 Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-6-read-online-mary-calmes Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:52:15 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-6-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)

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Hello all, Jory Harcourt here, and Volume 6 of my He Said, he said columns were from 2024 and there were world changes, that you all know about, and family changes that were new. We were all introduced to the man who would become very important to my son, his best and only, my daughter and Jake doubled down, Kola met his biological parents, and Michael’s bachelor party, which was not great, and his wedding, that was much better. It was a year of ups and downs, but through it all, our community grew stronger as did my fondness for a glass of red wine under the stars on my back deck

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

JANUARY 2024

Hello, all, and welcome to the first He Said, he said of the new year! I hope you all had wonderful holidays. Mine started out a bit shaky but got good.

I have to rewind you all to the winter solstice in December. It’s the longest night of the year and the beginning of the Yule season that goes until January first. But I digress. As you know from past newsletters, Hannah lights the Yule log as soon as the sun goes down, and it burns all night long until dawn. That means someone has to stay up and keep an eye on our wood-burning fireplace, and never, not once, has it been my dear sweet daughter. Normally it’s me. Now I will say we usually snuggle together, her and me, on the couch, and sometimes Sam will remain downstairs with us as well if he doesn’t have to get up early the next day. This year, his Friday, December twenty-second was going to be a long one. Because his team was moving Dr. Adam DeBoer, a disgraced investment adviser—think Bernie Madoff but smaller—from his cell at the Metropolitan Correctional Center, or MCC, to federal court. It promised to be a zoo, so Sam needed all his faculties for the following day. So even though he didn’t like it, he went up to bed alone, leaving me and Hannah up.

We watched one of her favorite movies, then mine, back and forth. What was nice was that they overlapped, like Pride & Prejudice, the Keira Knightley one, The Fugitive, Jaws, of course Jaws, and finally when we were both getting sleepy—I was no longer in my clubbing days where I used to get ready to go out at ten—we watched K-dramas. If you had to focus on the subtitles, you weren’t falling asleep. At about four in the morning, Hannah was out like a light, but by then I had changed the channel to Law & Order because I could listen but not watch and started making breakfast for Sam.

He was down at four thirty.

“What are you doing cooking?” he asked, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around me.

“Before I passed out next to Hannah, I thought I should make some food for my man.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, kissing my neck.

“I thought, this way he can hit the ground running when he gets to work, having already had coffee at home and more in the car—note the Yeti there ready for pouring—and if he doesn’t get lunch, that will be okay.”

“Very kind of you,” he commented, still holding me. “I don’t like when you’re not in the bed with me. I can’t ever really settle.”

I knew that, but last night it couldn’t be helped. The boys were still across town, having not begun the camping at our house for Christmas yet.

“I appreciate this, you know, but I could have grabbed a bagel and made coffee if you were passed out on the couch.”

“I know, but an omelet filled with lots of cheese, spinach, green peppers, mushrooms, and diced ham is better. And wheat toast is healthier than your bagel.”

“I don’t know about that,” he rumbled in my ear before I got a final squeeze.

I sat with him as he ate, and told my husband in no uncertain terms that he was not to get between any crazy people and DeBoer. After he ate, there were kisses and hugs, and I reiterated my need for him to be careful. He’d had water and coffee with breakfast and was carrying his large travel mug as he walked to the garage. I waved from the back deck and stayed outside while Dobby did his business, because yes it was early, but he was up and so was I, so why not? Plus, I had been hearing some coyotes lately, and even though we had a six-foot wood fence in the back and a five-foot chain-link one running the length of the driveway to the backyard, the front was a darling white picket painted in rustic white that any coyote could easily leap. Best for me to stay on patrol.

Wisely, Dylan, Fallon, and I had closed our office from the twenty-second all the way through Christmas and New Year’s to the third of January. We could. We were a medium-size business that had weathered many storms from the pandemic to the economy, and historically, our business slowed from a crawl to nothing at the end of December. I counted myself blessed to be able to take the time off, as did all our six other employees.

Hannah and I got up, her from passing out in the wee small hours of the morning, me from a three-hour nap, when Kola and Jake came banging in the back door around eleven, and I was far more bleary than she was.

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Advertisement He Said he said Volume 5 Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-5-read-online-mary-calmes Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:52:14 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-5-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)

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Hello all, Jory Harcourt here, with another blast from the past, the fifth volume of my column, He Said, he said, covering 2023. As usual, or so it seemed at the time, the world around us was in upheaval. In the midst of that chaos, we have to depend on our community, family, and friends.

Of course, I had my person, my husband, to depend on in all things. I love that after all these years; I still give him heart palpitations every now and then. At our age, that may or may not be a good thing! I’m so happy to have you all along in this journey with me

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

JANUARY 2023

Hello, all! Welcome to He Said, he said for January 2023. It’s probably going to take me well into February to get 2023 drilled in, but at least I won’t mess up any when I write checks, since I barely write those anymore.

My husband came home on Friday to find Hannah loading clothes into the washing machine, pizza on the counter, and a young man he’d never seen in his life carrying boxes up and down the stairs.

“Who are you?”

“Adrian Pomeroy, sir,” he said, stopping to offer Sam his hand. “I lost five consecutive games of rock-paper-scissors to Hannah, so that’s why I’m schlepping stuff from the dorm up and down the stairs. My buddy Mario, we used his truck. He lost too.”

Sam nodded, shook the young man’s hand, and then watched him go up the stairs. The next young man, a bit taller, stockier, offered Sam his hand as he walked by with a laundry basket full of clothes and more clothes on hangers draped over the top.

“Hello, sir, Mario Armello, no relation,” he said seriously.

Sam shook his head and then tipped it to the stairs.

“No relation?” I asked Sam, who flopped down on the couch, not going upstairs to shed his suit or his gun but just taking a seat.

“Sal Armello runs the Girona crime family,” he answered. “In Boston, not here.”

“But he figures you know the name.”

“Which he should. That was smart of him.”

“Okay,” I said, moving over next to the couch and staring down at him. “How do you think Hannah won consecutive games?”

“You always double paper in the middle, you know that,” he muttered. “You’re the one who taught me.”

I had. I was the rock-paper-scissor king. “What’s with you?”

After a moment, he looked up at me. “You know, I don’t give you enough credit.”

This was news. “For what?”

“For never, ever, repeating anything I tell you in confidence. Like I’ve never heard you say, even to Duncan, something that I’ve said to you.”

“Well, no, of course not.”

He groaned.

“Oh,” I said, getting it. “Who told what to who?”

“One of the transfers—Cowen—nice guy, we all liked him––”

“Liked?”

Sam shook his head.

“You fired him for whatever it was he did?”

“He’s transferred, but…when it happens like that and you’re busted down, your career has a new trajectory, right?”

“I understand,” I assured him. “Sorry to interrupt, go on.”

“Well, so he got caught talking to Rosa Oliveros. She’s a reporter on that show––”

“Tale of the Tape,” I volunteered. I, like many, loved crime documentaries, and that one, on Netflix, didn’t annoy me. So many could tell the story in one hour but stretched it to three or, dear God in heaven, six. And they left each episode on cliffhangers. I knew it was a thing, but it was a lame thing. I liked the reporting where they filled up every second and nothing was wasted. Tale of the Tape was pretty good, and there wasn’t fluffy reporting, and they never did shows on crimes that weren’t solved. I liked that too. The important part of watching shows on serial killers was knowing that law enforcement caught the bad guy. Sometimes it took a long time, sometimes law enforcement missed things because back in the seventies not a lot of different police precincts talked to one another, and without DNA…but that was a rant for another day. But I liked things that ended with “and he’s now in jail for the rest of his life.” I was a big fan of justice.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he agreed.

“So Cowen is talking to Rosa and she asks him about what?”

“She gets him talking about Miro and Craig Hartley, and thank God he didn’t know about the key and the watch that Miro got or that would be on the next episode as well.”

“Sam, I’m so sorry,” I soothed him, taking a seat beside him on the couch.

“But now people are hounding Miro all over again.”

“Well, Ian will put a stop to that,” I reminded my husband.

“That’s true,” he agreed. “But on top of that, Aberdeen, who’s brand new, came up from CPD, was at a club in the loop last night, and when it was robbed, he didn’t do anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he huddled on the floor with everybody else.”

“Huddled? Really?”

“Fine. You prefer cowered?”

“I doubt it was either,” I chided him. “He probably just sat there, and you can’t fault him for that, can you?”

He turned to look at me. “What?”

“I mean, he’s there, off duty I assume, and the place gets robbed.”

“What’s your point?”

“Was he alone?”

“Yeah, but––”

“Sam,” I said, squinting at him, “he was by himself, and yes, he’s got his gun, but what is he supposed to do all by himself?”

“Jory––”

“How many guys were robbing the club?”

“Two.”

“And it was fast, right, in and out?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so the club was robbed, hopefully they’re insured, and they’ll up their security measures. I’m guessing no one was hurt, right?”

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Advertisement Frog Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.books2020.com/frog-read-online-mary-calmes Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:14:16 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/frog-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, M-M Romance Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)

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Weber Yates's dreams of stardom are about to be reduced to a ranch hand’s job in Texas, and his one relationship is with a guy so far out of his league he might as well be on the moon. Or at least in San Francisco, where Weber stops to see him one last time before settling down to the humble, lonely life he figures a frog like him has coming.

Cyrus Benning is a successful neurosurgeon, so details are never lost on him. He spotted the prince in a broken-down bull rider's clothing from day one. But watching Weber walk out on him keeps getting harder, and he’s not sure how much more his heart can take. Now Cyrus has one last chance to prove to Weber that it's not Weber's job that makes him Cyrus's perfect man, it's Weber himself. With the help of his sister's newly broken family, he’s ready to show Weber that the home the man’s been searching for has always been right there, with him. Cyrus might have laid down an ultimatum once, but now it's turned into a vow—he's never going to let Weber out of his life again

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

ONE

It was pouring when I walked outside to use the pay phone. I was so close; I could stop or just catch another bus depending on how he sounded on the other end.

“Hello?”

Not Cy, someone else, and it was noisy wherever his phone was. I checked my ancient Timex—nearly eight o’clock on a Friday night. He was probably at a club or a bar or even dinner. I was interrupting.

“Hello?”

I cleared my throat. “Um, sorry, I… Is this Doc’s phone?”

“Doc?”

“Sorry, I mean Cyrus.”

“Yeah, this is his. He just had me answer it ’cause he’s putting things away in the fridge. Who’s this?”

I swallowed, and instead of hanging up like I should have, I said, “This is Weber, and I wanted⁠—”

“Weber who?”

“Weber?” someone asked in the background.

“Hey, Cy, do you know anybody named⁠—”

“You know what,” I started to say just as muffled sounds came from the other end of the line, and then a quick bang, like something dropped, maybe the phone.

“Weber?” Cy sounded breathless, and my name, because he was the one saying it, sounded amazing.

“Hey.” I smiled into the phone even though the water was coming in under the booth and soaking through the bottoms of my worn cowboy boots. “Sorry to be interruptin’ whatever you’re doin’. I wasn’t thinkin’.”

“You’re not interrupting anything. Where⁠—”

“Are you at a party?”

“No, I’m at a friend’s house, and we were about to have dinner.”

“Then I’ll let you go and⁠—”

“It’s just a big group, Web, it’s nothing,” he assured me. “Where are you?”

I was starting to shiver. “Not far, so I thought I would⁠—”

“Yes.” He cut me off. “Come see me. I’ll go home right now.”

“Oh no, you⁠—”

“Web.” His breath caught. “Please. Meet me there.”

“I’ll meet you in the morning,” I told him, because I realized how exhausted I was, and I wanted to shower and shave before I saw him. I always showed up looking like hammered shit, in clothes I’d slept in for a week. He deserved better. Not that this was the case at the moment. I’d showered in a motel the night before.

“Weber, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

There was a long silence, and after a minute I got it. I wasn’t that bright, but even I could figure things out. “I’m not punishing you. I just look like hell, and I’d like to look better this time. I promise I’ll be there.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah,” I said as my teeth started to chatter.

“Oh God, you’re freezing. Are you… Where exactly are you?”

“At the Greyhound bus station in Oakland.”

“Oh God,” he groaned. “You’re that close?”

“Doc—”

“Weber.” His voice cracked. “Please don’t make me wait until tomorrow. I don’t give a damn what you look like. Just let me come get you…please.”

“I don’t wanna interrupt your⁠—”

“Web.” He sounded so serious, and I loved it. “I’ll beg. Do you want me to beg?”

“You don’t need to beg for nothin’, ever.”

“Listen,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “just…I’m so sorry about the last time.”

Seven or so months ago I had been through on my way to Reno, and when I was ready to go, he had given me an ultimatum: Stay forever or go and never come back. He was tired of waiting, which I had no idea he’d even been doing, and he wanted me either to remain with him or lose his number. I had actually forgotten the fight until this very moment. I tended to remember only the good times with him and none of the bad.

“Oh shit, Doc.” I trembled. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Web—”

“God, I’m such an ass,” I groaned, feeling more than stupid. Talk about a needy bastard.

“No!”

No? “Darlin’, are you⁠—”

“Weber Yates, don’t you dare hang up this phone!”

“Yeah, but⁠—”

“I want to see you!”

He had to be making a spectacle of himself at whoever’s house he was at. “Calm down and stop your yellin’. I don’t want no one lookin’ at ya like you’re crazy.”

“I don’t care! Jesus Christ, Web, just⁠—”

“Are you sure you wanna see me?”

He made a strangled noise. “Yes, please. So sure.”

“You ain’t mad no more?”

“No, baby, I’m not mad. I was never mad.”

I coughed softly. “Was that the guy?”

There was silence before he answered me. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, last time I was here you said you were fixin’ to get serious with a guy who wanted to marry you, and so⁠—”

“No, that wasn’t him. I tried to make it work with the man you’re talking about, but…turns out you can’t love someone just because you should.”

“So it’s over?”

“Yes, it’s over. It’s been over for the last four months.”

“’Cause I don’t wanna mess nothin’ up for ya. I reckon I put you through enough.”

“There’s nothing to mess up, I assure you. I’m so sorry for how we… Baby, I’m so sorry for what I said.”

I realized between his tone and how shaky his breathing was that maybe I made a mistake. “You know, I’m kinda tore up. Maybe this wasn’t such a good⁠—”

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Advertisement He Said he said Volume 3 Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-3-read-online-mary-calmes Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:32:13 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-3-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: M-M Romance Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)

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Jory Harcourt here. I will say that Volume 3 of my columns, which covered 2021, was different than 2020, but also, a lot of the same. Much like many people, I remember thinking that everything would go back to how it was before the lockdown. And when it didn’t, because it couldn’t, that was surprising.

New realities take time to get used to, and faced with overwhelming change, what kept my spirits up, was the grounding presence of family, friends, and my community. Also, whenever things get really crazy, I find that stepping outside, at night, and staring up at the stars, puts everything into perspective

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

HE SAID, HE SAID VOLUME 3

Jory Harcourt here. I will say that Volume 3 of my columns, which covered 2021, was different than 2020, but also, a lot of the same. Much like many people, I remember thinking that everything would go back to how it was before the lockdown. And when it didn’t, because it couldn’t, that was surprising.

New realities take time to get used to, and faced with overwhelming change, what kept my spirits up, was the grounding presence of family, friends, and my community. Also, whenever things get really crazy, I find that stepping outside, at night, and staring up at the stars, puts everything into perspective.

JANUARY 2021

Happy January, everyone. This is He Said, he said for January 2021. Crazy that it’s been a couple weeks already, and I know I’m a bit behind, but I’ll catch up next month. This is just a little bit about what happened before Christmas last year.

That Wednesday, we were wrapping gifts for other people, those that would be delivered or picked up, and as I walked by the table, my eye was drawn to something Hannah had just finished with. It was, without question, one of the most beautifully wrapped gifts I’d ever seen. Even by professional wrapping standards, it was impressive. Added to that, Hannah had curled the ribbon into intricate swirls of color and had used her hot glue gun to stick tiny iridescent snowflakes to the heavy silver and gold paper.

The word masterpiece could easily be used.

All day long, she had been insisting we call her “The Ribbonier,” as in master of all things ribbon related. Kola wrapped as he did, basically using a straight-edge—no scissors needed—and double-sided tape, making sure that the seams and any prints on the paper were perfectly aligned, and that there was no tape visible anywhere to the naked eye. He then passed it to his sister, who added the appropriate ribbon to zhuzh it and make it pop.

It was quite the production. This one, though, was obviously special.

“Who is this for?” I asked her, picking it up and realizing how weighty it was.

“It’s for George,” she told me, and Jake, who was sitting across the table from them, tying jute around individual bunches of mistletoe, looked over at her. His eyes got big, but bless his clearly pounding heart, he said nothing.

“Oh yeah?” I questioned, going for nonchalant even though I was ridiculously interested. “What did you get him?”

It took a second for my words to filter through because she was paying such close attention to the present she was curling ribbon for next.

“Oh no, no,” she countered, lifting her head to smile at me. “I meant that I got it for George to give to Cynthia.”

Wait. “Who’s Cynthia?”

“Cyn,” she corrected.

“Who’s Cyn?” I asked her.

She squinted at me. “She’s George’s girlfriend, the one I made the big candle for that George took with him on my birthday.”

I needed to roll back several weeks of my life. “That candle wasn’t for George?”

She scoffed. Loudly. “You thought I made George a special candle?”

“Well, yes,” I informed her, glancing at Jake, who was basically holding his breath.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you care for George.”

“I do care for him, which is why I got him a game for his PS5,” she explained, as though that should have been obvious. “I mean, Pa, giving George a candle would be like giving Dad a candle,” she informed me, making a noise of disgust. “It would be a complete and utter waste.”

Jake cleared his throat. “So when did you meet George’s girlfriend?”

“Oh!” She warmed to this topic, her eyes sparkling. “When they met.”

“Which was when?” I pressed her.

“In July, at the benefit Uncle Aaron and I did at the Art Institute for the Expressions of Love exhibit. It was very romantic.” She sighed deeply. “Cyn, she’s a curator there, and she tripped and would have fallen down the stairs, but George caught her.”

“That does sound romantic,” I replied, smiling at the besotted look on her face.

“It was,” she assured me. “One second she was flying through the air, and the next, she was in George’s arms.”

Jake was grinning at her. “Like a movie, right?”

She turned to him. “Jake, you should have seen it. Cyn had her arm around George’s neck, and she turned bright red, and George put her down super gently, and they just sort of stared at each other,” she told us breathlessly. “And when Cyn thanked him and was going to leave, George caught her arm to make sure she was all right, and Cyn did this amazing thing and pulled out her phone and told him that maybe he should get her number so he could check on her throughout the night.”

I chuckled.

“Right?” she said, eyebrows lifted, nodding. “That’s some quick thinking.”

“And then when you guys were leaving?” I wanted to hear more.

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Advertisement He Said he said Volume 4 Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-4-read-online-mary-calmes Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:32:12 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-4-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: M-M Romance Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)

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Hello all, Jory Harcourt here. Volume 4 of the newsletters were written during 2022 when things were getting better, when there became a new normal, and most importantly, for me personally, when my children left home and spread their wings. One went all the way to California, but the other was, thankfully, closer.

I am not a fan of change, and no one who knows me is remotely surprised by this news. Having friends to lean on helps me navigate all things I have no control of. They are a blessing as is my growly, sometimes grouchy, husband

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

HE SAID, HE SAID VOLUME 4

Hello all, Jory Harcourt here. Volume 4 of the newsletters were written during 2022 when things were getting better, when there became a new normal, and most importantly, for me personally, when my children left home and spread their wings. One went all the way to California, but the other was, thankfully, closer.

I am not a fan of change, and no one who knows me is remotely surprised by this news. Having friends to lean on helps me navigate all things I have no control of. They are a blessing as is my growly, sometimes grouchy, husband.

JANUARY 2022

Hello, all, welcome to a new year and my first column of 2022 of He Said, he said. I’m hoping that this one will be better than the previous two. I’m cautiously optimistic.

Now, back in early November, I got lots of questions about Hannah and an event that was held downtown. I would have talked about it earlier, but only now was I given permission to discuss the situation. Basically, my daughter got caught up in the attempted kidnapping of her friend David Chan. It was all very hush-hush, even with all the spent rounds of ammunition that had to be cleaned up. Of course Hannah was in the middle of the melee, which, in turn, put George, her bodyguard, right there along with her. In the end, George handled the situation just as he was supposed to, saving my child and also young Mr. Chan.

“You know,” I said softly to Aaron Sutter when he was at my house for Christmas Eve, “I really think that George deserves a raise.”

“Believe me when I tell you that George Hunt is being lavishly compensated for his role as the shadow of a trouble magnet.”

I chuckled. “It’s funny, but did you know that’s what Dane used to call me?”

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked drolly.

“No,” I assured him.

He just shook his head like I was insane.

It was nice to have family and friends over for Christmas Eve, and that night turned out to be the first of many visits from David Chan. Apparently, after he was told what Hannah did for him, how she was not about to let him be taken and how she insisted George save him—as though George Hunt allowed people to be kidnapped when he was on duty—had cemented, in his mind, how special she was. Other women had, he told me, expressed their feelings for him, declared their love, but Hannah… Hannah had shown him. She had let her actions do the talking for her, and David, for one, was utterly gobsmacked.

“You think I’m an idiot,” he said out of the blue as we stood together on the front porch, his driver double-parked on the street, in a holding position, because Hannah had asked David to wait a second before he left. “You think I’m wasting my time because your daughter is madly in love with her boyfriend.”

I turned to look at him. “I don’t think you’re an idiot. There’s nothing wrong with hanging around hoping something will change.”

He nodded. “I know you and Mr. Kage like him. I know he’s basically part of the family, but you don’t understand, she’s already bored with him.”

I didn’t say anything to the worldly twenty-year-old. It wasn’t my place.

“You’ll see, sir,” he said with a grin as Hannah stepped out onto the porch. “I’m going to be the one you call son.”

He was so full of himself that in that moment I wanted Hannah to just decimate him with a word, but that was not in the spirit of the season, nor was it particularly charitable. Just because he seemed like the spoiled rich kid in every Hallmark Christmas movie I’d watched so far, didn’t mean he actually was. I just couldn’t get the idea out of my head that Hannah was something he wanted that had been, thus far, out of his reach. More a trophy than a person.

I watched as Hannah moved to the top step and waited for him. She passed him a small box, and he asked if he could open it. She nodded quickly, so he opened the lid and I saw the utter amazement on his face. Thinking she’d spent some of her Aaron Sutter money on him, I was surprised when he pulled a compass out of the box that looked like it was a hundred years old. And though that didn’t automatically mean it wasn’t worth a million dollars, I suspected that he was staring at her with the stunned expression for an altogether different reason.

“Oh, Hannah,” she said, doing, I suspected, a version of his voice, even though he didn’t really sound like that. He actually had a husky quality to his voice that was quite pleasing to the ear. “Why do you waste your time at that terrible store?”

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Advertisement He Said he said Volume 1 Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-1-read-online-mary-calmes Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:19:56 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-1-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Novella Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)

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Hello all, Jory Harcourt here. Back in 2017, I started writing a newsletter. Why? Many reasons. As a keepsake, to vent, to talk about my wonderful kids as well as to remember special moments and memories. Some entries might sound like silly ramblings or slice-of-life events with my favorite people—family, friends and blasts-from-the-past. But they were important to me or to those around me.
Yes, my husband is Sam Kage, who I’m sure you’ve read about. He’s a very private person and doesn’t share much about his homelife. He’s protective of his husband, me, and our two kids. I’m the same, but I also know how important it is to remember passing moments in time so I can recall them when I’m old and gray. And catching up with old friends should always be this fun

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED…

Let me start by saying if I was good at math, I probably would have been a construction engineer. That always sounded really interesting.

In school, my teachers would always say, “but you really seemed to have a grasp of the material in the homework”. That’s because my sister Melissa did it. Me and math parted ways when I was in the third grade, with multiplication and division, and it was never the same after that. Also, there was tracking in schools, a hundred years ago when I went, and because of math, I didn’t get to do all the fun things my sister did in high school in her AP English classes.

Later, in college, I barely made it out, because I needed one more math credit… and it was Geometry or Statistics. Can you imagine? That’s like the devil or the deep blue sea? Neither option was great. And really, Geometry, are you kidding? I nearly died laughing. I got a C- in statistics and graduated. I thought, once I was out, that this would be the final curtain for me and math. I was so naïve then.

When you’re a writer, there’s this fun thing called “plot math”. Over the years, many of my editors have said, “wait, what?” And so, because of that, when I was ready to publish my newsletter ficlets, I had to examine what I had done with the ages of Sam, Jory, Kola and Hannah as well as all the people in their orbit. In figuring out all their birthdays—which my husband was horrified I didn’t know when he was creating a spreadsheet—I figured out where it all went completely off the rails. And, yes, of course, I knew birthdays…just not the attached year that went with it. Now, as you read these, know that all ages are correct within these volumes. It took some time, but I’ve got it. Math is static, did you all know? So once I figured it out, I never have to do it again. I finally found something I like about it.

When I republish the books in the A Matter of Time series, there will be adjustments there that I’m excited about, but know, now, that my entire timeline is finally, mathematically, correct. It only took seventeen years. Just don’t get crazy and look at ALL my books. My goodness…

HE SAID, HE SAID VOLUME 1

Hello all, Jory Harcourt here. Back in 2017, I started writing a newsletter. Why? Many reasons. As a keepsake, to vent, to talk about my wonderful kids as well as to remember special moments and memories. Some entries might sound like silly ramblings or slice-of-life events with my favorite people—family, friends and blasts-from-the-past. But they were important to me or to those around me.

Yes, my husband is Sam Kage, who I’m sure you’ve read about. He’s a very private person and doesn’t share much about his homelife. He’s protective of his husband, me, and our two kids. I’m the same, but I also know how important it is to remember passing moments in time so I can recall them when I’m old and gray. And catching up with old friends should always be this fun.

JULY 2017

“Okay-okay,” I said, starting over, inhaling deeply before reading what I wrote. “Here’s what I’m gonna say: Hi, all, my name’s Jory Harcourt. I’m married, I have two kids, and I’m the part owner of a graphic design company and I’ve been asked to––”

“Why do you sound so perky?” Sam Kage, the love of my life, said from the couch where he was flipping through channels waiting for one of the qualifying games for the World Cup to come on. He’d explained it, something about in the four years leading up to the next one that teams from all over the world competed to see who got to be in it, but I’d stopped listening. What was nice was that my kids were upstairs, one in his room playing Call of Duty with friends across town, the other in her room with four of her best friends plotting God knew what. Everyone safe under one roof was a blessing I never took for granted.

“I want people to know I’m upbeat,” I answered him.

“Are you talking to them?”

“No, they’ll be reading this.”

“Then how will they know what you sound like?”

“It’s tone, Sam.”

“Tone in words on a page?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he said like I was nuts. “Just don’t sound fake.”

“What sounds fake?”

“All that stuff about who you are.” He yawned, stretching out, sliding farther down, looking very warm and inviting from where I was.

I jolted, ready to move, to go drape myself over him, but I stayed where I was because this had to get done. “Okay, so I’ll just say I’m a love god, then.”

“That would make more sense,” he said, carding his fingers through his hair. There were colors that caught the light: copper, gold––

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Advertisement He Said he said Volume 2 Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-2-read-online-mary-calmes Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:19:55 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/he-said-he-said-volume-2-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Novella Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)

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Hello all, Jory Harcourt here. The second volume of my He Said, he said columns happened in 2020, when the whole wide world was in lockdown. So many facets of everyday life changed for me, and everyone else, and writing about family and friends, and leaning on them, carried me through.

And yes, there was the occasional craziness in my house, but even that turned out all right

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

JANUARY 2020

Hello, all, happy 2020! I hope you all had lovely holidays. We here at the Kage household had strange ones, because we had a bit of a scare a couple days before Christmas.

I was crossing the street close to work when a car came through the crosswalk and hit me. I know! Insane. It turned out the guy was drunk—I was thankful he hit me and not the young father I was talking to, pushing his baby in a very high-end stroller a few feet in front—and he awaits trial. Apparently, he is fine with being incarcerated after meeting with my husband, the chief deputy. By all accounts, that did not go well. Duncan said it took him and three of his guys to make sure that Sam didn’t put the guy through a wall. He plans to speak at the hearing where the judge decides what happens to him. I told Kola, because he’s going as well, that the guy needs a treatment program. Normally my son is the soul of logic, but from his face when I had my hand on his cheek, I’m guessing not this time. I had no idea he had a bit of vengeance in him. I won’t even go into the bloodthirst of my daughter.

Needless to say, we had Christmas in the hospital, and because I had a concussion that made me a little loopy and that, along with a broken leg—the hell of crutches—put me there instead of home stuffing stockings and wrapping gifts. Early Christmas morning my family was there with baked goods for the staff, fresh coffee, and Hannah made the kolachkis that I normally make. Sam’s mom says kolacky, I say kolachki, but it’s the same thing. It’s crescent rolls, and inside is crumbled meat mixed with cream cheese and scrambled eggs. Some people hate it, some love it. My family has them every Christmas morning, and I’ve seen Kola put away sixteen of them in one sitting. I no longer have his metabolism, so I don’t have that many. My husband can also put them away, but he goes for a run every day and lifts weights and swims so he can also eat what he likes. My treadmill and I have a love/hate relationship. More about this at another time.

Anyway, I’m fine now, fully recovered but for the stupid cast and the aforementioned lame crutches. I am working from home because I don’t have my “Sam” release yet. The doctor said I’m good to go. My husband…still a bit skittish. I finally got lucky the other night—took for freaking ever to convince the man that an orgasm wouldn’t make my brain explode—he takes the concussion stuff seriously. But I think my chances of being allowed outside are improving. It’s about 60/40 at this point. This is all to say that I don’t have my normal crazy holiday adventures to report, and instead I went through questions at the hospital, and visiting friends and family typed them up for me. So without further ado, here is He Said, he said, January 2020.

DEAR JORY:

My sex life with my husband has fallen off quite a bit this past year, to the point where I actually asked him if he was having an affair right before Halloween. He wasn’t, and then let me know that it simply wasn’t as important to him as it used to be. I told him that it was still very important to me, and he said to just let him know when I wanted it and he would accommodate me. His words nearly killed me. I don’t want to be “accommodated,” I want passion! Please advise.

Jory: I think they should go to a marriage counselor.

Dylan: Is that what you want me to write?

Jory: Don’t you think so?

Dylan: I think he’s having an affair.

Jory: She said she asked him. Why are you so jaded?

Dylan: If your husband said that to you—he’d accommodate you—what would you say?

Jory: …

Dylan: Don’t grunt, answer.

Jory: I would be devastated.

Dylan: And suspicious, because you know Sam likes to have sex, and if he’s not into it anymore, then there has to be a reason.

Jory: Yeah, but bodies change, drives change, hormones—it could be any number of things.

Dylan: So you could tell her that. First, have both you and your hubby checked out. If she’s wanting it, like, ten times a day, she might have some weird brain tumor that’s pressing on a certain part of her brain. I remember that on Ally McBeal years ago, and the president on Madam Secretary got all bloodthirsty from a brain tumor too.

Jory: It doesn’t sound like she’s wanting sex any more than normal.

Dylan: Yeah, but this way when she mentions to her husband that he has to get checked out, it doesn’t sound so bad. She’ll be in solidarity with him because she’ll go to the doctor too.

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Advertisement Raven in Midwinter – Raven of the Woods Read Online Mary Calmes http://www.books2020.com/raven-in-midwinter-raven-of-the-woods-read-online-mary-calmes Wed, 07 Jan 2026 10:40:16 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/raven-in-midwinter-raven-of-the-woods-read-online-mary-calmes Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Magic, Paranormal Authors: Mary Calmes Advertisement

Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)

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Sometimes the most frightening thing is not the wind howling through the trees…but what’s lurking there.

Xander Corey is certain that what his husband, Lorne MacBain, the chief of police in their little town of Osprey, is seeing outside their kitchen window is nothing to worry about. It’s concerning that whenever Xander looks, there’s nothing there, but really, it could be anything. Why borrow trouble and assume the worst? Besides, it’s midwinter, after all, and everything is sleeping.

Or should be.

And while during the deep, dark days and even darker nights, things can get spooky, that’s not to say that logical minds won’t prevail, even when tested at the most vulnerable time. Remaining steadfast in the face of danger is what guardians do… and staying alive would certainly help as well

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

ONE

Every year, sometime in the weeks after the first of January, the snow that had been festive and evocative of joyous holidays becomes, all at once, almost spooky.

“Xander Corey,” my best friend Amanda would snap at me. “I hate it when you say things like that and make me scared to walk around outside at night.”

That was not my intention, but it was true nonetheless.

I suspected that if you lived in a city or even a suburb, accumulations of winter were more bothersome than anything else. It wasn’t scary, just a nuisance to walk in, shovel off sidewalks, or blow out of a driveway. But in small towns, on roads not maintained by the county, or if your land abutted a nature preserve, the blanket of white was so high that on certain days it was hard to see where the land ended and the sky began, making it effortless for people to let their imaginations run wild.

My grandfather surmised, when he used to stand in the sunroom with me, looking at the collected powder on the glass above us, that it was the way the snow insulated everything, smothering out sounds, twisting perception. When the expected silence was broken by a noise and you couldn’t immediately pinpoint the source, it created dread.

My grandmother believed that with the world being all one color, you noticed things easier, faster, and that put one on edge. Jumping at shadows, even during the day.

My beloved, my husband, Lorne MacBain, told me it was the incessant days of winter—everything the same, cold and wet with snow, wind, and sleet—and the drudgery of it all that played havoc on the mind. It was hard to get one’s bearings when it felt like you were in an endless loop. It muddled the brain, anything out of the ordinary becoming cause for alarm.

I wasn’t sure what I believed, but whereas lots of people I knew were tired and even a bit depressed in the frozen landscape under the blanched sky, the sameness never bothered me. Winter was for hibernation, simple as that. One was supposed to stay inside and rest. The animals had it right. It was madness to worry about what was going on outside. Only the den mattered. Unfortunately, most of us, myself included, couldn’t afford to stay inside. I was luckier than others as almost everything I needed could be found at home—Corvus was fairly self-sustaining—which was why I took care baskets to people in the winter, something that was always met with much happiness and thanks.

The thing that could be helped in the winter was their terrible mindset that came the second of January, it was time to kick the new year into gear and get on with putting all their resolutions into place. They felt that big plans were supposed to be acted on immediately, especially those that required cleaning, exercise, or some massive project. Really? In midwinter? So fighting every natural instinct to rest and conserve strength during the coldest, darkest part of the year was the right thing to do? I was horrified by the very idea that January was the time to start anything at all. Work yes, anything else…absolutely not.

“Everyone thinks so,” Lorne chimed in, yawning. “All I hear when I’m in town is that you must start the new year off right and strong and stick to your resolutions. I feel like the time for that is in March or something. Don’t you?”

“Of course. That’s what spring is for.” I stood next to him in the kitchen, him sipping tea, me rinsing the breakfast dishes, since he’d cooked.

“A lot of people have trouble in the winter, and that’s not even counting those who suffer from seasonal affective disorder. As a police officer, you deal with folks who are in pretty bad shape. It’s better here, where you can deliver most of them back home to people waiting for them. In Boston that wasn’t the case. It gets difficult this time of year.”

“I know.”

After a moment of silence, he said, “Is it me, or does January feel like it’s two months long?”

I chuckled because it did. He wasn’t wrong.

“What day is this?”

“It’s Friday morning, a bit after eleven. And while I’m thrilled to have you home, shouldn’t you be at work?”

“To do what?”

It had begun snowing last Saturday and continued throughout the week. At some point, the temperature dropped below zero and everything went from fluffy powder to heavy, hard ice. Due to that, the main roads had been cleared by snowplows but not much else. People could take the highway to the bigger cities around us where they worked, but here in Osprey, nothing was happening. School was canceled, and the one movie theater was closed, along with all the restaurants and even the pub. The library was shut down too, which was why I was home, and everyone was basically…hibernating.

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