Sean Michael's Blog, page 16
November 6, 2013
Inheritance is out!
Cash McCord loves his life. He owns the family ranch, works hard and invites the occasional cowboy into his bed. All that changes when his brother Jack and Jack’s wife Val are killed in a car crash, leaving behind six kids.
Cash is made guardian along with Val’s brother Brad Rafferty. Brad couldn’t be more different than Cash. A Yankee, Brad is a video game developer who works twelve to fourteen hour days at his desk. The two men lock horns on sight, neither man happy to have the other around, but neither willing to give up guardianship of their nieces and nephews.
Can they manage to keep the kids together, and keep from killing each other at the same time?
Originally published in the Family Matters anthology.
there's an excerpt here
you can buy it here
November 5, 2013
Author Spotlight Tuesday - Carolina Valdez
Thanks, Sean, for the chance to share my latest story and the answers to your questions!
Boxers or briefs?
If you fall for a guy, you take him in whatever he wears, but boxer briefs are pretty damn sexy.
Favorite position to write?
They're all stimulating and fun.
Favorite kink to write?
Sizzling sex in some risky public place
Tattoos or piercings?
Piercings
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
Well, I’m not gonna peek first and reject. Take them as they come. It's all good.
What's your favorite thing about Make Mine A Bad Boy?
I grew up in a Navy town and have fallen in love with the idea of the SEALs as warriors and lovers.
Copyright © 2013 Carolina Valdez
Gay Romance/Contemporary/Action/Adventure
Their secret love affair ended abruptly when wounded warrior Shane left the SEALs and disappeared, no longer able to do his job with the excellence required for counter terrorism Team Six. His teammate and lover, Mike, is deeply hurt by the sudden unexplained end to their relationship. Needing answers as to why Shane dumped him in such a cruel manner, Mike searches for him without success…until a chance encounter brings about a reunion Shane resists. Maybe Shane no longer loves him, but SEALs never leave a buddy behind and Mike refuses to let Shane withdraw from the wider world.
Considering Shane’s resistance to him, just how successful Mike will be is up for grabs…
Judging from this guy now, if he was military he was due for a regulation shave and haircut. If he was Delta, it wasn’t surprising these partiers were drawn to him. Since presence on any of the counter-terrorism teams was top secret, no one here except Shane would guess what he did for a living. They were responding to a confidence and bearing that tagged him as a leader; a man’s man—the kind every man wanted to be but too many were not.
“Hey, bartender. You awake or what?”
The waiter was waving an order ticket under his nose. Mango shots this time.
“Sorry, had a mind fuck.”
On impulse, he pulled two dark, frosty bottles of a certain light beer from the refrigerator, popped the lids and slid the drinks, without napkins, to the waiter. While I make these shots, take these to the man in leather who just hit the door.”
“He hasn’t ordered anything.”
“Tell him compliments of the bar.”
“Woo, hoo,” the waiter said as he raised his eyebrows.
“Not what you’re thinking. I don’t even know the guy. I’m guessing I may know something about him, though.”
“That he’s gay? Well, that would be a major surprise.” He rolled his eyes.
Zeke glared at Shane like he was stealing from the till.
He dug in his pocket, pulled some bills out of his money clip and handed them over. “On me.” Then, in response to the big question mark in his look, he shrugged. “His response will answer a question for me.”
“Shit, maybe you’ll let me in on it sometime,” Zeke said.
“May be.” Shane made it two words as he smiled and reached for the mango ingredients. This was fun, and his pathetic life could use a little more fun.
“Aren’t you gonna pour them?” the waiter asked.
“These aren’t draft, and you think he’s a glass kinda person? I’ll lay you a bet he drinks straight from the bottle.
You watch. If he sends you back for a glass, I’ll slip you a ten.”
“Shit, I get the feeling that’s a wager I don’t need to take,” and he laughed as he loaded his tray and swung away.
This was a big party, and the orders rolled in faster and faster. Shane forgot about the man in leathers wearing the special boots. It must’ve been almost an hour before he noticed they’d run out of lemon and lime slices. As he crouched down to pull fresh ones from the small refrigerator below the bar, he heard bottles clunk down on the black marble top above. He rose, ready to ream out the waiter for not depositing them in the recycle basket when he heard a voice, rich with surprise.
Memories of tumbled sheets, heat and sweat after sex flooded Shane. He straightened and looked up.
Time stopped.
The throaty voice said, “Son of a bitch. That you, Ace?”
His heart constricted and his gut clenched so hard he thought he’d lose his dinner. His hands shook with fine tremors. It was all he could do to set down the glass bowls filled with the citrus slices without breaking them.
Ezekeal’s voice cut through my shock. “I think maybe the guy’s talking to you, Shane.”
Shane looked into the smiling face of the man who light years ago, it seemed, had always had his back and who eventually saved his ass. He’d also been his secret lover…
Download it at Amber, or in the five story Dream Man AmberPax
Carolina Valdez
website
twitter
blog
Boxers or briefs?
If you fall for a guy, you take him in whatever he wears, but boxer briefs are pretty damn sexy.
Favorite position to write?
They're all stimulating and fun.
Favorite kink to write?
Sizzling sex in some risky public place
Tattoos or piercings?
Piercings
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
Well, I’m not gonna peek first and reject. Take them as they come. It's all good.
What's your favorite thing about Make Mine A Bad Boy?
I grew up in a Navy town and have fallen in love with the idea of the SEALs as warriors and lovers.
Copyright © 2013 Carolina Valdez
Gay Romance/Contemporary/Action/Adventure
Their secret love affair ended abruptly when wounded warrior Shane left the SEALs and disappeared, no longer able to do his job with the excellence required for counter terrorism Team Six. His teammate and lover, Mike, is deeply hurt by the sudden unexplained end to their relationship. Needing answers as to why Shane dumped him in such a cruel manner, Mike searches for him without success…until a chance encounter brings about a reunion Shane resists. Maybe Shane no longer loves him, but SEALs never leave a buddy behind and Mike refuses to let Shane withdraw from the wider world.
Considering Shane’s resistance to him, just how successful Mike will be is up for grabs…
Judging from this guy now, if he was military he was due for a regulation shave and haircut. If he was Delta, it wasn’t surprising these partiers were drawn to him. Since presence on any of the counter-terrorism teams was top secret, no one here except Shane would guess what he did for a living. They were responding to a confidence and bearing that tagged him as a leader; a man’s man—the kind every man wanted to be but too many were not.
“Hey, bartender. You awake or what?”
The waiter was waving an order ticket under his nose. Mango shots this time.
“Sorry, had a mind fuck.”
On impulse, he pulled two dark, frosty bottles of a certain light beer from the refrigerator, popped the lids and slid the drinks, without napkins, to the waiter. While I make these shots, take these to the man in leather who just hit the door.”
“He hasn’t ordered anything.”
“Tell him compliments of the bar.”
“Woo, hoo,” the waiter said as he raised his eyebrows.
“Not what you’re thinking. I don’t even know the guy. I’m guessing I may know something about him, though.”
“That he’s gay? Well, that would be a major surprise.” He rolled his eyes.
Zeke glared at Shane like he was stealing from the till.
He dug in his pocket, pulled some bills out of his money clip and handed them over. “On me.” Then, in response to the big question mark in his look, he shrugged. “His response will answer a question for me.”
“Shit, maybe you’ll let me in on it sometime,” Zeke said.
“May be.” Shane made it two words as he smiled and reached for the mango ingredients. This was fun, and his pathetic life could use a little more fun.
“Aren’t you gonna pour them?” the waiter asked.
“These aren’t draft, and you think he’s a glass kinda person? I’ll lay you a bet he drinks straight from the bottle.
You watch. If he sends you back for a glass, I’ll slip you a ten.”
“Shit, I get the feeling that’s a wager I don’t need to take,” and he laughed as he loaded his tray and swung away.
This was a big party, and the orders rolled in faster and faster. Shane forgot about the man in leathers wearing the special boots. It must’ve been almost an hour before he noticed they’d run out of lemon and lime slices. As he crouched down to pull fresh ones from the small refrigerator below the bar, he heard bottles clunk down on the black marble top above. He rose, ready to ream out the waiter for not depositing them in the recycle basket when he heard a voice, rich with surprise.
Memories of tumbled sheets, heat and sweat after sex flooded Shane. He straightened and looked up.
Time stopped.
The throaty voice said, “Son of a bitch. That you, Ace?”
His heart constricted and his gut clenched so hard he thought he’d lose his dinner. His hands shook with fine tremors. It was all he could do to set down the glass bowls filled with the citrus slices without breaking them.
Ezekeal’s voice cut through my shock. “I think maybe the guy’s talking to you, Shane.”
Shane looked into the smiling face of the man who light years ago, it seemed, had always had his back and who eventually saved his ass. He’d also been his secret lover…
Download it at Amber, or in the five story Dream Man AmberPax
Carolina Valdez
website
blog
November 4, 2013
My God It's Monday
Forget Monday -- my God it's November!
I swear the last time I looked it was July and even that seemed to have arrived inordinately quickly. How did it get to be less than two months until Christmas?
I have a book out this week -- Inheritance. Check out the footprints on the cover:
This one is actually a reprint -- it was originally in the Family Matters anthology. So it's from 2008... where has the time gone? (and here we are looped back around to time moving at the speed of lightning).
Here's the blurb:
Cash McCord loves his life. He owns the family ranch, works hard and invites the occasional cowboy into his bed. All that changes when his brother Jack and Jack’s wife Val are killed in a car crash, leaving behind six kids.
Cash is made guardian along with Val’s brother Brad Rafferty. Brad couldn’t be more different than Cash. A Yankee, Brad is a video game developer who works twelve to fourteen hour days at his desk. The two men lock horns on sight, neither man happy to have the other around, but neither willing to give up guardianship of their nieces and nephews.
Can they manage to keep the kids together, and keep from killing each other at the same time?
It's out on Wednesday from Torquere Press.
It must be the week for reprints, because I have another one. This one was originally in the Cowboy Up anthology, but is now a stand alone story with Amber Allure. Different than my usual, this one has no sex, but it's a good story.
When Jack's Uncle Billy dies, he inherits the man's ranch. Unfortunately, Jack doesn't know anything about ranching, all he does know is that between inheritance and land taxes, the place is going to put him into bankruptcy in short order.
Pacer was more than just Billy's right hand man, the two of them considered each other family, and Billy had promised the ranch would go to Pacer when he died. That happened before the will could be changed, though, and when Jack comes in, looking to sell, Pacer can't afford to buy the place and the antagonism between the two men grows from there.
Can the men find a middle ground before they either kill each other or both lose the ranch forever?
Look for it on November 10 at Amber Allure.
Tomorrow's Tuesday Spotlight Author is Carolina Valdez
I swear the last time I looked it was July and even that seemed to have arrived inordinately quickly. How did it get to be less than two months until Christmas?
I have a book out this week -- Inheritance. Check out the footprints on the cover:
This one is actually a reprint -- it was originally in the Family Matters anthology. So it's from 2008... where has the time gone? (and here we are looped back around to time moving at the speed of lightning).
Here's the blurb:
Cash McCord loves his life. He owns the family ranch, works hard and invites the occasional cowboy into his bed. All that changes when his brother Jack and Jack’s wife Val are killed in a car crash, leaving behind six kids.
Cash is made guardian along with Val’s brother Brad Rafferty. Brad couldn’t be more different than Cash. A Yankee, Brad is a video game developer who works twelve to fourteen hour days at his desk. The two men lock horns on sight, neither man happy to have the other around, but neither willing to give up guardianship of their nieces and nephews.
Can they manage to keep the kids together, and keep from killing each other at the same time?
It's out on Wednesday from Torquere Press.
It must be the week for reprints, because I have another one. This one was originally in the Cowboy Up anthology, but is now a stand alone story with Amber Allure. Different than my usual, this one has no sex, but it's a good story.
When Jack's Uncle Billy dies, he inherits the man's ranch. Unfortunately, Jack doesn't know anything about ranching, all he does know is that between inheritance and land taxes, the place is going to put him into bankruptcy in short order.
Pacer was more than just Billy's right hand man, the two of them considered each other family, and Billy had promised the ranch would go to Pacer when he died. That happened before the will could be changed, though, and when Jack comes in, looking to sell, Pacer can't afford to buy the place and the antagonism between the two men grows from there.
Can the men find a middle ground before they either kill each other or both lose the ranch forever?
Look for it on November 10 at Amber Allure.
Tomorrow's Tuesday Spotlight Author is Carolina Valdez
October 31, 2013
Keeping Sir Thorne (Rose & Thorne #3) now out!
It's been nearly a year since Rose and Thorne met and things are going really well. They love their jobs at the tattoo parlor, they're thinking of spending some time volunteering, and their love is flourishing, in the bedroom and out of it!
Rose is still somewhat hesitant about the things he and Thorne enjoy together, though. He's been brought up to think that things like spanking during sex are weird. Will Thorne be able to convince him that whatever gets them off together is perfectly normal for them? And if he does, will Rose be able to take the next step -- calling Thorne Sir?
Find out in this conclusion to the Rose and Thorne saga.
buy it here
Thorne cleaned up his station, watching Rose out of the corner of his eye.
Rosie was joking with the man whose nipples he was piercing, reassuring the guy that they'd be so much fun once they'd healed. His Rose could certainly attest to that. He had two in his right nipple and one in the left. They'd be putting the second in the left soon, and then Thorne would bring up the subject of a Prince Albert, a couple of guiches and a penile ladder.
Not all at once, of course. Rose was more receptive to things if they weren't sprung on him.
Thorne chuckled to himself. They'd been together for close to a year and his dear, sweet Rosie still wouldn't admit he liked to play as much as Thorne did, that Thorne was the Top to Rose's bottom.
When Rosie was done with his client, he walked the man up to the cash register, shook his hand, and came back to clean the piercing station. Thorne moved into step with his gorgeous lover.
"You ready to go have a late supper with my friend?" Thorne had set up a meeting between Rose and a friend of his who ran a GLBT club for youth. Thorne thought his Rosie would get a lot out of volunteering. And the kids would benefit from having someone who could teach them how to work out, how to eat properly.
"I am." Rose gave him a warm, happy smile, his big, muscled lover looking more and more beautiful every day.
"Good. I can't wait for you to meet Jeff and get something set up with the kids."
"You know I like teenagers." Rosie cleaned his station, careful and meticulous. Rosie had turned into quite a good piercer. Caring, conscientious, and clean.
"I think they'll be thrilled to have someone who knows what they're doing teach them how to work out." Thorne had certainly benefited from knowing Rosie when it came to workouts. Among other things.
Thorne slid his hand along Rosie's back. Rosie leaned into him, just the slightest bit. Fuck, he loved this man. His Rosie.
He let his hand drop to Rosie's ass and smacked it gently. "Come on, then. We're meeting him at the Unicorn."
"No smacking." Rosie chuckled, grabbed his bag, and followed, whistling happily.
"I like smacking." He bumped their hips together. "So do you."
"I do not." It was Rose's immediate answer to the topic whenever it came up.
"Uh-huh." He'd remind Rosie of how much he enjoyed the smacking when they got home.
"You're in a good mood. We going to get to do more work on my ink soon?" Rosie asked.
"I have a block of time tomorrow without appointments. I'll tell Warren I won't be available for walk-ins." He'd already turned the blurry little rose on Rosie's hip into a stunning rose and was working out from it, freehand.
"Cool. I like that." Rosie liked the inking. The endorphins. The pain. Sex after a session, inking or piercing, was always wild, wonderful.
Now if Thorne could make that connection happen in Rose's head, about the pain being good in sex as well as when inking and piercing... His Rose was going to be an amazing sub. He was already the best lover, partner, and friend. When they explored this need they kept tiptoeing around...
October 30, 2013
Humping Day!
Woot - Happy Humping Day to all!
SWAK: Pony Play is number #10 on ARE's Bestseller list!
And today Totally Covered is out! These boys ate my brain and jumped the writing queue.
Mal has been Burke and Darby’s sub for many years. As an undercover cop, he needs the release his once a quarter visits give him. Burke and Darby get a lot of out of the visits, too. Both Doms, it’s important for them to share a sub now and then to keep them on an even keel.
All that changes, though, when Mal is shot on the job and needs to stay with Burke and Darby during his recovery. Can his Doms bring Mal out of the funk his last undercover stint has left him in? Or will the three of them finally go their separate ways?
buy link
Burke was surprisingly nervous.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t been friends with Malcolm for over twelve years. It wasn’t like Malcolm hadn’t been to the house hundreds of times in those last twelve years. They’d shared wine, laughter, good food, wild sex. They’d loved on Malcolm, torn him inside out, and rebuilt him countless times. They were Malcolm’s ground. They broke him and put him back together, so that he could keep doing his job.
Being an undercover cop was stressful.
Malcolm didn’t have family or friends. He had Burke and Darby. And they liked it like that. It meant they could play hard without having to bring someone new into their relationship. Hell, Malcolm was their sub in all but a few practicalities: that he didn’t live with them was the biggest.
All that had changed when Malcolm had been shot two weeks ago. Their lover had been hurt on the job before, but never like this, never in a life-threatening manner. Malcolm had stayed with them many times in the past, but this time he was coming to recuperate from a physical hurt, not a mental or emotional one, and Burke found himself nervous.
Darby chuckled. “Babe. Relax. It’s Malcolm.”
“I know, but…”
“But you’re worried he’s going to find out you’re a closet baker?”
Burke threw the pillow he’d been moving from one couch to the other at Dar. “Ass.”
Dar plucked the pillow out of the air and turned to wriggle his butt in Burke’s direction. “I thought I saw you admiring it.”
He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help laughing, relaxing. Dar knew him so well.
Warm, strong hands landed on his arms, Dar giving him a little shake and looking him in the eye. “Malcolm needs us, just like always. Would you have him turn to anyone else in his time of need?”
Burke’s “No!” was immediate and heartfelt. No, Malcolm was theirs.
Maybe that was the problem—he and Darby knew that, had known it for over a decade. Malcolm on the other hand… Well, their boy still believed he had a choice, still believed he wasn’t impossibly entwined with them. Burke didn’t know if Malcolm was ready to discover that he was indeed home when he was with his Doms.
The doorbell rang and Burke growled a little as he headed to let Malcolm in. “I still don’t understand why he didn’t let us pick him up from the hospital.”
“Because he’s still the most stubborn son-of-bitch you’ve ever met—he was shot in the chest and belly, not the head.”
Snorting, Burke flung open the door.
“Hey.” Mal stood there, bag in hand, white as milk and swaying. “I’m here.”
Thank God, they’d seen him every day in the hospital, so they knew that the heavy muscles had become lean, that the short, short black hair was shaggy now. This undercover assignment might have destroyed Mal, even if the bullets hadn’t hit him.
Burke kept his growls inside and bit back his complaints about Mal not letting them come pick him up. Instead, he stepped up and wrapped an arm around Mal’s waist, taking the man’s bag in his other hand. “Welcome home, boy.”
SWAK: Pony Play is number #10 on ARE's Bestseller list!
And today Totally Covered is out! These boys ate my brain and jumped the writing queue.
Mal has been Burke and Darby’s sub for many years. As an undercover cop, he needs the release his once a quarter visits give him. Burke and Darby get a lot of out of the visits, too. Both Doms, it’s important for them to share a sub now and then to keep them on an even keel.
All that changes, though, when Mal is shot on the job and needs to stay with Burke and Darby during his recovery. Can his Doms bring Mal out of the funk his last undercover stint has left him in? Or will the three of them finally go their separate ways?
buy link
Burke was surprisingly nervous.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t been friends with Malcolm for over twelve years. It wasn’t like Malcolm hadn’t been to the house hundreds of times in those last twelve years. They’d shared wine, laughter, good food, wild sex. They’d loved on Malcolm, torn him inside out, and rebuilt him countless times. They were Malcolm’s ground. They broke him and put him back together, so that he could keep doing his job.
Being an undercover cop was stressful.
Malcolm didn’t have family or friends. He had Burke and Darby. And they liked it like that. It meant they could play hard without having to bring someone new into their relationship. Hell, Malcolm was their sub in all but a few practicalities: that he didn’t live with them was the biggest.
All that had changed when Malcolm had been shot two weeks ago. Their lover had been hurt on the job before, but never like this, never in a life-threatening manner. Malcolm had stayed with them many times in the past, but this time he was coming to recuperate from a physical hurt, not a mental or emotional one, and Burke found himself nervous.
Darby chuckled. “Babe. Relax. It’s Malcolm.”
“I know, but…”
“But you’re worried he’s going to find out you’re a closet baker?”
Burke threw the pillow he’d been moving from one couch to the other at Dar. “Ass.”
Dar plucked the pillow out of the air and turned to wriggle his butt in Burke’s direction. “I thought I saw you admiring it.”
He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help laughing, relaxing. Dar knew him so well.
Warm, strong hands landed on his arms, Dar giving him a little shake and looking him in the eye. “Malcolm needs us, just like always. Would you have him turn to anyone else in his time of need?”
Burke’s “No!” was immediate and heartfelt. No, Malcolm was theirs.
Maybe that was the problem—he and Darby knew that, had known it for over a decade. Malcolm on the other hand… Well, their boy still believed he had a choice, still believed he wasn’t impossibly entwined with them. Burke didn’t know if Malcolm was ready to discover that he was indeed home when he was with his Doms.
The doorbell rang and Burke growled a little as he headed to let Malcolm in. “I still don’t understand why he didn’t let us pick him up from the hospital.”
“Because he’s still the most stubborn son-of-bitch you’ve ever met—he was shot in the chest and belly, not the head.”
Snorting, Burke flung open the door.
“Hey.” Mal stood there, bag in hand, white as milk and swaying. “I’m here.”
Thank God, they’d seen him every day in the hospital, so they knew that the heavy muscles had become lean, that the short, short black hair was shaggy now. This undercover assignment might have destroyed Mal, even if the bullets hadn’t hit him.
Burke kept his growls inside and bit back his complaints about Mal not letting them come pick him up. Instead, he stepped up and wrapped an arm around Mal’s waist, taking the man’s bag in his other hand. “Welcome home, boy.”
October 29, 2013
Tuesday Author Spotlight - Anna Bayes
Boxers or briefs?
Briefs. And I love colors; let’s not have just black or white or grey ones. Bring on the red, hot pink and blue ones!
Favorite position to write?
Actually, I work best when I’m standing against the bar table at my little apartment. I have that instead of a normal dinner table. I don’t cook, so I figured having a real dining table seemed hypocritical. Anyways, the height is perfect for my arms when I’m typing on the laptop, so that’s how it works for me.
Favorite kink to write?
Breath-play. That’s even more crucial and intimate than bondage, because it’s literally my life on the line when my breath is being controlled. Gives me the shivers, in the best way.
Tattoos or piercings?
I like both, as long as they match the person who has them. But for myself, I can’t decide what kind of tattoos I want, so I don’t have any just yet. As for piercings, just two on my ears. Don’t really count, I guess. LOL.
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
Love them all!
What's your favorite thing about Snug Fit?
I am still a shameless romantic, even if I just got my heart smashed to pieces recently. Love is still real, I think, whether I have the luck to meet it or not. My little tale is a chance encounter between two people who turn out to be each other’s perfect match. I love the possibility of that: Optimism and a new happy beginning/ending.
Friday night, 7:52pm. Kate's dress feels too tight, the restaurant seems too fancy, and her date is running late. She has decided that tonight is a bad idea after all, until a stranger two seats away begins talking to her.
Excerpt:
I feel lighter already peeling myself out of that dress, letting my hair down and skipping into the shower.
The sound of water splashing onto the tiles pleases me so. I lather myself up, smelling of peaches. I giggle as I remember how Mike said I could be dry and strong, but sweet like apples too. I can be more: sugary and juicy like peaches. I intend to let him find out.
I cup my breasts over the rich foam, and then flick my thumbs lightly over my nipples, sending an electric current down my spine directly between my legs.
Damn.
Just the thought of Mike is giving me the shivers.
I continue working on my nipples with my thumbs, pressing down and rubbing them in a circle, feeling how hard and sensitive they are, enjoying the tension building up in my core.
My legs part and I lean my whole body against the wall, the pink tiles kissing my skin and escalating the heat inside me. I let the water rain on my back as my fingers move down.
I am drenched; my clit is throbbing, begging for attention. I moisten my fingers with my own juice, and then glide up to envelope my protruding knob. It is Mike’s eyes, the changing colors of his pupils, that are branding their fervor in my head. I covet his large, comforting hands; wishing it is his thick, warm fingers concentrating on my clit, driving me into delirium.
Fuck, I want him.
I push two fingers from my left hand in my gaping pussy while envisioning his cock entering me, pounding away and claiming me as his.
My hips buck into my hands, my knees shake as I rock myself to the image of Mike gripping my ass and ramming into me like a starved madman.
I bite my lower lip so hard it bleeds as I hold my breath and ride my lust; the world fades as the lack of oxygen makes me dizzy and dims my sight. I almost black out before I let out a long and guttural scream.
Intense? That was more of a near-death experience.
I am making him mine.
Buy links:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Smashword
Find and follow Anna Bayes everywhere!
Amazon
Blog
Facebook
Goodreads
Twitter (@anna_bayes)
Briefs. And I love colors; let’s not have just black or white or grey ones. Bring on the red, hot pink and blue ones!
Favorite position to write?
Actually, I work best when I’m standing against the bar table at my little apartment. I have that instead of a normal dinner table. I don’t cook, so I figured having a real dining table seemed hypocritical. Anyways, the height is perfect for my arms when I’m typing on the laptop, so that’s how it works for me.
Favorite kink to write?
Breath-play. That’s even more crucial and intimate than bondage, because it’s literally my life on the line when my breath is being controlled. Gives me the shivers, in the best way.
Tattoos or piercings?
I like both, as long as they match the person who has them. But for myself, I can’t decide what kind of tattoos I want, so I don’t have any just yet. As for piercings, just two on my ears. Don’t really count, I guess. LOL.
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
Love them all!
What's your favorite thing about Snug Fit?
I am still a shameless romantic, even if I just got my heart smashed to pieces recently. Love is still real, I think, whether I have the luck to meet it or not. My little tale is a chance encounter between two people who turn out to be each other’s perfect match. I love the possibility of that: Optimism and a new happy beginning/ending.
Friday night, 7:52pm. Kate's dress feels too tight, the restaurant seems too fancy, and her date is running late. She has decided that tonight is a bad idea after all, until a stranger two seats away begins talking to her.
Excerpt:
I feel lighter already peeling myself out of that dress, letting my hair down and skipping into the shower.
The sound of water splashing onto the tiles pleases me so. I lather myself up, smelling of peaches. I giggle as I remember how Mike said I could be dry and strong, but sweet like apples too. I can be more: sugary and juicy like peaches. I intend to let him find out.
I cup my breasts over the rich foam, and then flick my thumbs lightly over my nipples, sending an electric current down my spine directly between my legs.
Damn.
Just the thought of Mike is giving me the shivers.
I continue working on my nipples with my thumbs, pressing down and rubbing them in a circle, feeling how hard and sensitive they are, enjoying the tension building up in my core.
My legs part and I lean my whole body against the wall, the pink tiles kissing my skin and escalating the heat inside me. I let the water rain on my back as my fingers move down.
I am drenched; my clit is throbbing, begging for attention. I moisten my fingers with my own juice, and then glide up to envelope my protruding knob. It is Mike’s eyes, the changing colors of his pupils, that are branding their fervor in my head. I covet his large, comforting hands; wishing it is his thick, warm fingers concentrating on my clit, driving me into delirium.
Fuck, I want him.
I push two fingers from my left hand in my gaping pussy while envisioning his cock entering me, pounding away and claiming me as his.
My hips buck into my hands, my knees shake as I rock myself to the image of Mike gripping my ass and ramming into me like a starved madman.
I bite my lower lip so hard it bleeds as I hold my breath and ride my lust; the world fades as the lack of oxygen makes me dizzy and dims my sight. I almost black out before I let out a long and guttural scream.
Intense? That was more of a near-death experience.
I am making him mine.
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October 28, 2013
My God It's Monday - Cover Edition
Coming out Wednesday from Resplendence Publishing
Coming out Thursday from Changeling Press
Coming out November 4 from Torquere Press
Coming out November 10 from Amber Allure
Coming out November 13 from Torquere Press this anthology has my story For Love and Money in it.
Coming out November 13 from Resplendence Publishing
Stand to Attention has my story Almost in it -- Stand to Attention comes out in January 2014, while Almost will be released later as a stand alone story.
Coming out Thursday from Changeling Press
Coming out November 4 from Torquere Press
Coming out November 10 from Amber Allure
Coming out November 13 from Torquere Press this anthology has my story For Love and Money in it.
Coming out November 13 from Resplendence Publishing
Stand to Attention has my story Almost in it -- Stand to Attention comes out in January 2014, while Almost will be released later as a stand alone story.
October 22, 2013
Author Spotlight Tuesday -- Sharon Maria Bidwell
Hello Sean, and many thanks for inviting this reserved ‘Brit’ over to your blog (yes, that side of me does exist, everyone stop laughing).
Shaz x
Boxers or briefs?
My preference you mean? Can’t say I care, but not Y-fronts/pants -- whatever you want to call them; not even the modern versions. Whoever invented those… *shudders* In my books, I don’t pay too much attention to what my characters are wearing in the underwear department. Maybe I should. LOL
Favorite position to write?
I use a laptop so move around depending on mood and weather. I have a summerhouse in the garden. Nothing fancy, but it’s a lovely spot to read or write...weather permitting. Not so much fun when rain is drumming on the roof.
Favorite kink to write?
Can’t say I write any. I’m sure there are many I don’t even know exist! There are mild touches of BDSM in some of my books. If I wanted to write a specific brand in that line I’d use another name.
Tattoos or piercings?
Don’t care. Neither, I guess. Sometimes they look nice, sometimes not. Don’t like tats that cover large areas although I can appreciate the artwork of some of them. I’d give them to characters if it fitted the story.
What's your favorite thing about A Not So Hollow Heart?
If I say the title that sounds too flippant but there’s more to it than that. It’s a m/m romance set during a zombie apocalypse and I wanted something special. I took a long time and serious thought running all sorts of variations (zombie, soulless, dead, etc) until I settled on the word Hollow, and then Hollow Heart. That suited my character Mason so well I had to use it, and a bit more thought gave me a title that fitted the whole theme of the book, the truth that Mason isn’t as hollow as he’d like to be. I loved exploring that aspect of whether a broken heart can learn to love again and what strengths another person might have that would get under a person’s skin and break down those barriers.
Mason’s more scared of love than he is of the walking dead.
Mason’s facing more than one apocalypse. The darkest hours are those spent alone when memories surface and the touch of his lost love can make the most erotic of dreams horrifying. He’d rather face danger than recollect how he loved Antonio, and what he was prepared to give up for him. He’s never going to fall in love again…a vow that wavers when he rescues Kyle.
Although he’s certain luck had more to do with saving Kyle than anything he did now Mason fears something more than the walking dead. He’s afraid giving in to lust may lead to love, if homophobic hatred doesn’t murder them first.
Excerpt:
“Did things go wrong?” Kyle slid down a little in the bed, sinking into the pillows, although he was so lightweight, Mason was surprised he made a dent.
“Understatement. Close calls.” Mason shrugged. “They happen.”
“Ever wonder which are worse?”
Uncertain as to his meaning, Mason looked across into those dark eyes. Darker than Antonio’s, he realized with a start. His subconscious must have picked up on that as well as the slight unevenness to Kyle’s teeth. These were the eyes from his dream. As for the color, he wouldn’t have believed that possible; he’d once believed no one could have darker irises than Antonio. As Kyle settled back, light seemed to fall into his eyes, create pinpoints of illumination. Mason got up and paced, pretending to stretch, though he really wanted to get closer. If he wasn’t mistaken, Kyle’s long eyelashes were the sort for which women contemplated killing. His lashes framed almost black pupils, and those eyes really were possibly the man’s best feature, particularly while he still appeared related to one of the living dead. Even when Kyle put on some weight, his cheekbones would stand out, perfectly underscoring those eyes.
“Sorry?” He’d forgotten Kyle’s question.
“Ever wonder which is worse? The zombies or the humans who hurt each other even though the world’s gone to hell?”
Mason wasn’t sure the world hadn’t always been hell, flashing back on how he and Antonio had fought for acceptance, but he didn’t have the heart to say so.
“The humans,” he replied with only a slight pause.
Kyle swallowed. The scrawniness of his frame made his Adam’s apple bob in both a grotesque and oddly inviting way. “Glad I’m not the only one to think so.” He didn’t sound happy, though.
Mason stared at the man in the bed, and the man stared back. Kyle’s tongue flicked out, then vanished back inside his mouth. He grimaced.
“Doc says licking my lips is not doing them any good. He gave me this.” Kyle shifted, making a weak attempt to reach for something on the bedside table. Almost by reflex, Mason walked over and picked up the object, which turned out to be a small jar labeled with spiderlike writing.
“Some woman—Patricia? She’s making this stuff?”
Mason nodded in answer to Kyle’s questions. The people here had needed to go back to basics for many things—food, drugs, even items like salve. He looked up in time to see Kyle almost lick again, once more resist. Mason focused on the condition of Kyle’s mouth rather than the pink and enticing flash of his tongue. At least his lips had improved—dry instead of cracked, except for a couple of particularly nasty fissures where they’d split and bled.
Kyle’s eyelids fluttered and closed. His head slumped to one side.
Mason unscrewed the lid of the jar, then hesitated, mindful enough to check the cleanliness of his fingers. He’d washed his hands when he arrived—Miles insisted there be no infection in his “hospital”—but still, he checked. Satisfied, he dabbed a small amount of the salve on his index finger. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over the patient.
Mason had to be careful—Kyle’s lips were dry—but tracing them at first made Mason feel a peaceful connection he hadn’t enjoyed for a long time. He intended nothing sexual, took a simple pleasure from caring for someone. Then as sensation spread out from his groin into his thighs, he almost gasped at the sudden, unexpected, and intense arousal—made even worse when Kyle opened his eyes. For a second they stared at each other. Then Kyle’s mouth unlatched. He took the tip of Mason’s finger between his teeth. Seeming almost unnecessarily cautious to make sure the forefinger didn’t drag over his lips, Kyle applied pressure with his teeth and then used his tongue to lap what remained of the salve from Mason’s fingertip.
The hot, wet, fluttering impression against one of his digits did nothing to make Mason’s erection wither. He wanted to pull free but feared he’d hurt Kyle if he did, even cause his mouth to bleed. Kyle needed to be the one to withdraw, which he eventually did, only to swallow and then say, “Tastes pretty good for an ointment.”
“Salve,” Mason corrected. “I think Pat uses honey in many of her concoctions. It’s healing.”
He vaguely wondered whether Pat made a balm for heartache. He stood up abruptly, screwed the lid back on the jar, and popped it in place on the table. His eyebrows had gathered in the middle of his brow, but he couldn’t stop frowning. A weight took up residence in his chest, and his breathing tightened.
Buy it here.
Contacts for Sharon Maria Bidwell:
http://www.sharonbidwell.co.uk
https://www.facebook.com/sharon.bidwell1?ref=tn_tnmn
http://about.me/sharonbidwell
Shaz x
Boxers or briefs?
My preference you mean? Can’t say I care, but not Y-fronts/pants -- whatever you want to call them; not even the modern versions. Whoever invented those… *shudders* In my books, I don’t pay too much attention to what my characters are wearing in the underwear department. Maybe I should. LOL
Favorite position to write?
I use a laptop so move around depending on mood and weather. I have a summerhouse in the garden. Nothing fancy, but it’s a lovely spot to read or write...weather permitting. Not so much fun when rain is drumming on the roof.
Favorite kink to write?
Can’t say I write any. I’m sure there are many I don’t even know exist! There are mild touches of BDSM in some of my books. If I wanted to write a specific brand in that line I’d use another name.
Tattoos or piercings?
Don’t care. Neither, I guess. Sometimes they look nice, sometimes not. Don’t like tats that cover large areas although I can appreciate the artwork of some of them. I’d give them to characters if it fitted the story.
What's your favorite thing about A Not So Hollow Heart?
If I say the title that sounds too flippant but there’s more to it than that. It’s a m/m romance set during a zombie apocalypse and I wanted something special. I took a long time and serious thought running all sorts of variations (zombie, soulless, dead, etc) until I settled on the word Hollow, and then Hollow Heart. That suited my character Mason so well I had to use it, and a bit more thought gave me a title that fitted the whole theme of the book, the truth that Mason isn’t as hollow as he’d like to be. I loved exploring that aspect of whether a broken heart can learn to love again and what strengths another person might have that would get under a person’s skin and break down those barriers.
Mason’s more scared of love than he is of the walking dead.
Mason’s facing more than one apocalypse. The darkest hours are those spent alone when memories surface and the touch of his lost love can make the most erotic of dreams horrifying. He’d rather face danger than recollect how he loved Antonio, and what he was prepared to give up for him. He’s never going to fall in love again…a vow that wavers when he rescues Kyle.
Although he’s certain luck had more to do with saving Kyle than anything he did now Mason fears something more than the walking dead. He’s afraid giving in to lust may lead to love, if homophobic hatred doesn’t murder them first.
Excerpt:
“Did things go wrong?” Kyle slid down a little in the bed, sinking into the pillows, although he was so lightweight, Mason was surprised he made a dent.
“Understatement. Close calls.” Mason shrugged. “They happen.”
“Ever wonder which are worse?”
Uncertain as to his meaning, Mason looked across into those dark eyes. Darker than Antonio’s, he realized with a start. His subconscious must have picked up on that as well as the slight unevenness to Kyle’s teeth. These were the eyes from his dream. As for the color, he wouldn’t have believed that possible; he’d once believed no one could have darker irises than Antonio. As Kyle settled back, light seemed to fall into his eyes, create pinpoints of illumination. Mason got up and paced, pretending to stretch, though he really wanted to get closer. If he wasn’t mistaken, Kyle’s long eyelashes were the sort for which women contemplated killing. His lashes framed almost black pupils, and those eyes really were possibly the man’s best feature, particularly while he still appeared related to one of the living dead. Even when Kyle put on some weight, his cheekbones would stand out, perfectly underscoring those eyes.
“Sorry?” He’d forgotten Kyle’s question.
“Ever wonder which is worse? The zombies or the humans who hurt each other even though the world’s gone to hell?”
Mason wasn’t sure the world hadn’t always been hell, flashing back on how he and Antonio had fought for acceptance, but he didn’t have the heart to say so.
“The humans,” he replied with only a slight pause.
Kyle swallowed. The scrawniness of his frame made his Adam’s apple bob in both a grotesque and oddly inviting way. “Glad I’m not the only one to think so.” He didn’t sound happy, though.
Mason stared at the man in the bed, and the man stared back. Kyle’s tongue flicked out, then vanished back inside his mouth. He grimaced.
“Doc says licking my lips is not doing them any good. He gave me this.” Kyle shifted, making a weak attempt to reach for something on the bedside table. Almost by reflex, Mason walked over and picked up the object, which turned out to be a small jar labeled with spiderlike writing.
“Some woman—Patricia? She’s making this stuff?”
Mason nodded in answer to Kyle’s questions. The people here had needed to go back to basics for many things—food, drugs, even items like salve. He looked up in time to see Kyle almost lick again, once more resist. Mason focused on the condition of Kyle’s mouth rather than the pink and enticing flash of his tongue. At least his lips had improved—dry instead of cracked, except for a couple of particularly nasty fissures where they’d split and bled.
Kyle’s eyelids fluttered and closed. His head slumped to one side.
Mason unscrewed the lid of the jar, then hesitated, mindful enough to check the cleanliness of his fingers. He’d washed his hands when he arrived—Miles insisted there be no infection in his “hospital”—but still, he checked. Satisfied, he dabbed a small amount of the salve on his index finger. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over the patient.
Mason had to be careful—Kyle’s lips were dry—but tracing them at first made Mason feel a peaceful connection he hadn’t enjoyed for a long time. He intended nothing sexual, took a simple pleasure from caring for someone. Then as sensation spread out from his groin into his thighs, he almost gasped at the sudden, unexpected, and intense arousal—made even worse when Kyle opened his eyes. For a second they stared at each other. Then Kyle’s mouth unlatched. He took the tip of Mason’s finger between his teeth. Seeming almost unnecessarily cautious to make sure the forefinger didn’t drag over his lips, Kyle applied pressure with his teeth and then used his tongue to lap what remained of the salve from Mason’s fingertip.
The hot, wet, fluttering impression against one of his digits did nothing to make Mason’s erection wither. He wanted to pull free but feared he’d hurt Kyle if he did, even cause his mouth to bleed. Kyle needed to be the one to withdraw, which he eventually did, only to swallow and then say, “Tastes pretty good for an ointment.”
“Salve,” Mason corrected. “I think Pat uses honey in many of her concoctions. It’s healing.”
He vaguely wondered whether Pat made a balm for heartache. He stood up abruptly, screwed the lid back on the jar, and popped it in place on the table. His eyebrows had gathered in the middle of his brow, but he couldn’t stop frowning. A weight took up residence in his chest, and his breathing tightened.
Buy it here.
Contacts for Sharon Maria Bidwell:
http://www.sharonbidwell.co.uk
https://www.facebook.com/sharon.bidwell1?ref=tn_tnmn
http://about.me/sharonbidwell
October 17, 2013
October 16, 2013
Cereus: Training is out!
Paranormal resort Cereus is running like clockwork, but in these three stories a whole new crop of employees and guests, like bears, vampires and fallen angels, might require some extra training.
In Ursa Minor, by Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga, little bear Dakota is losing his sight, and is causing some serious damage trying to wait tables. Resort owner Jonny thinks he knows just what Dakota needs. His name is Cord, and the big grizzly shifter is more than willing to take Dakota on. In Heaven and Hell by Sean Michael, fallen angel Uri has no idea how to be mortal. Luckily, demon Quake is happy to show Uri all about the pleasures of being flesh and blood. Finally, in Weed and Feed, by Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga, Terry and Boone are young werewolves who need a firm hand. Alpha wolf Jackson and vampire Cian are willing, and able, to provide just that.
Cereus: Training takes up where Building and Opening began, with all the fun chaos only Cereus can provide!
you can buy it here
the first two are on sale! Cereus: Building and Cereus: Opening
there's an excerpt here
"So. Stuff for you to focus on -- that's kind of my specialty."
Before Uri could ask what that meant, Quake's mouth closed over his. He blinked and backed up, surprised. How odd.
One of Quake's eyebrows went up -- and that was rather fascinating -- then the demon pressed in again, the warm lips covering his, moving this time. He'd seen humans kiss before; he had to admit he'd always thought it was a strange custom, but this was... interesting.
Something warm and wet dragged across his lips, sending tingles through his whole mouth, and he was startled to realize that it was Quake's tongue. Uri leaned back again, confused.
"You don't kiss?" Quake shrugged. "You're going to have to learn, because I'm into it."
It wasn’t that he wasn’t into it, just that... "I never have before."
"Never? Angels don't kiss -- like at all?" Quake sounded like that was really too bad.
"I never had a body before. Not really. Not like this." He’d been more ethereal than corporeal. Of course that hadn’t made a difference when they’d pulled off his wings and torn out his hair; that had most definitely been physical.
Quake’s eyes widened. "Oh, wow. Really? So everything is new?"
Everything was different. Hard. Strange. "Yes."
"Huh." That was all Quake said, the demon contemplating him for a while.
Then Quake kissed him again, hard this time, lips warm and soft, but insistent. Uri tried backing away again, pushing himself back on the bed, but Quake just followed him. Followed him all the way to the wall, his back pressing up against it.
"There's nowhere to go."
Quake's tongue pressed against his lips, and when he gasped, it slipped between them. It wasn't until his lungs began to burn that he remembered to suck in a breath. Quake broke the kiss long enough to take one himself, then the kiss continued.
Uri’s hands fluttered, and he found himself confused, unsure about all the sensations battering at him. Quake grabbed one of his hands and brought it to the demon's shoulder, pressing it there against the warm skin. His fingers curled around it, holding on, exploring.
Quake made a noise as they were kissing, the vibrations from the sound invading his mouth. Uri looked at the demon's dark eyes, and they stared into him, unafraid.
Quake slid a hand along his cheek and down his neck, leaving a warm trail in its wake. Uri’s skin tightened, strange little bumps forming.
Quake continued his downward sweep, fingers moving toward the little nipples on Uri’s chest.
"What..." he began, the words soon lost as Quake flicked a fingertip across his left nipple.
He pulled away, looking at the body he'd been formed into. Quake touched his nipple again, a little harder this time.
"I..." The urge to cover his nipples took him, so he did.
"No hiding from me, angel boy." Quake tugged his hands away. "None."
"I..." He wiggled, totally unsure what to do.
"You what?" Quake asked, right there, staring at him. Into him.
"I don't know." He really didn’t. This was all... out of his realm of experience.
"It's all new to you, isn't it? You're actually a virgin."
Uri nodded. He'd only been in this form a few weeks, and absolutely everything was new.
"Then I think we should start right at the beginning."
Sean Michael's Blog
- Sean Michael's profile
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