Sean Michael's Blog, page 18
September 16, 2013
My God It's Monday
Again it's Monday -- it just keeps coming around, doesn't it? Nice and cool today, though, even if I can't believe September is already more than half over.
I'm participating in the TRS 10th anniversary party all this week, and tomorrow I'm at the Romance Studio Blog.
I indulged in Margarita therapy earlier. Cheap and tasty -- better than an hour on the couch any day of the week.
I just saw the draft of the cover for SWAK: Pony Play and let me say - droooooool... it was exactly what I'd asked for. I will share it as soon as I have the final.
Meanwhile, the cover for Pour Me a Triple bears repeating:
Tomorrow there will be no author spotlight and instead I will talk about the Charity Sip Blitz benefiting Outserve.
I'm participating in the TRS 10th anniversary party all this week, and tomorrow I'm at the Romance Studio Blog.
I indulged in Margarita therapy earlier. Cheap and tasty -- better than an hour on the couch any day of the week.
I just saw the draft of the cover for SWAK: Pony Play and let me say - droooooool... it was exactly what I'd asked for. I will share it as soon as I have the final.
Meanwhile, the cover for Pour Me a Triple bears repeating:
Tomorrow there will be no author spotlight and instead I will talk about the Charity Sip Blitz benefiting Outserve.
September 15, 2013
Torquere Press Charity Sip Blitz Blog Hop
I'm very pleased to once again be taking part in Torquere Press' Charity Sip Blitz. This year the charity chosen was Outserve, so it was a no-brainer that my jarheads came out again to play. They've been the stars of all but one of my Charity stories. Last year with the theme being leather, it was another no-brainer to have someone from the Hammer Club world to star in the story, and Marcus and Jim barely even need that kind of excuse to volunteer. I thought there had been a passing of the baton, that future Charity Sip Blitz stories I did would all be using Hammer Club characters. Wasn't the first time and won't be the last time I'm wrong about my own stories/characters -- they do have minds of their own and I am often reminded of this fact.
I've touched on the theme of Rig and his love for his Marines' uniforms in the past, and Rig was most pleased to step up to the plate and expound upon the theme. Lucky for Rig, he doesn't have to make do with 'just' the uniform, he gets the men who wore it, too!
Check out the awesome cover for the Charity Sips this year:
Flack Jacket Love, a Jarheads Charity story
Rig has a secret. Sometimes, when he’s alone, he put on one of Rock or Dick’s old camo jackets and gets off wearing it. What happens when he’s caught in the middle of things by Rock and Dick themselves?
Look for all the Charity Sip Blitz stories on Wednesday September 18 -- all royalties are donated by the authors to Outserve, with Torquere matching the donations 100%.
I've touched on the theme of Rig and his love for his Marines' uniforms in the past, and Rig was most pleased to step up to the plate and expound upon the theme. Lucky for Rig, he doesn't have to make do with 'just' the uniform, he gets the men who wore it, too!
Check out the awesome cover for the Charity Sips this year:
Flack Jacket Love, a Jarheads Charity story
Rig has a secret. Sometimes, when he’s alone, he put on one of Rock or Dick’s old camo jackets and gets off wearing it. What happens when he’s caught in the middle of things by Rock and Dick themselves?
Look for all the Charity Sip Blitz stories on Wednesday September 18 -- all royalties are donated by the authors to Outserve, with Torquere matching the donations 100%.
Every year, the great authors at Torquere Press put their money where their mouth is, donating their time writing stories for our chosen charity. Those same authors donate any royalties earned on their stories to the chosen organization, with Torquere matching those donations 100%. In the past we've raised $5000.00 for Lambda Legal, over $3000.00 for the Matthew Shepard Foundation, and more than $10000.00 combined for organizations such as NOH8 and Doctors Without Borders.
For the 2013-2014 Charity event, which will premiere September 18th 2013, we've chosen OutServe-SLDN as our donation organization. OutServe is a non-profit that provides legal services and support to LGBT military individuals and families, working toward equal representation and benefits.
Kiernan KellyEmily MoretonPelaamNancy GriffisLaura HughesJulian GriffithV.L. LoceyBA TortugaAvery DawesTray EllisRob RosenIndra VaughnM. RaiyaJulia TalbotKathryn ScannellLiam GreyMolly ChurchSean MichaelDelilah StormA. Catherine Noon & Rachel WilderJ.L. JensenJohn AmorySerena YatesOur Bloghop Starts Here: Torquere Press
September 12, 2013
How did it get to be Thursday already?
It's rainy and thunderstormy, which I like. But it's also hot and humid, which I don't like. Cooler weather should be back again soon.
I'm up for Author of the Month at Mrs. Condit & Friends because Renew, Hitched and Box of Nails: This Young Stud each got 5 sweet peas reviews! Today is the last day you can vote for me!
I will be on Romance for the Rest of Us later today.
And last but not least, Torquere Press has a sale on for their 10th anniversary. The code is 10years, you get 20% off and it's good until midnight on Wednesday next week.
Have you been checking out their daily free books? My day has passed, but you can find the list of the rest of the freebies here.
I'm up for Author of the Month at Mrs. Condit & Friends because Renew, Hitched and Box of Nails: This Young Stud each got 5 sweet peas reviews! Today is the last day you can vote for me!
I will be on Romance for the Rest of Us later today.
And last but not least, Torquere Press has a sale on for their 10th anniversary. The code is 10years, you get 20% off and it's good until midnight on Wednesday next week.
Have you been checking out their daily free books? My day has passed, but you can find the list of the rest of the freebies here.
Payday and Brownies out!
Payday
Alan and Mark are successful, rich and have a ton of friends, all thanks to a deal they made with a demon named Riskin. To hold up their end of the bargain, every now and then they have to host Riskin in the bedroom and obey his every whim. Tonight is payday, the best night of the year.
Originally in the Care and Feeding of Demons anthology.
there's an excerpt here
buy it here
Brownies, a Hammer story
When Tanny suggests he and Jim make brownies, it seems a simple enough task. Six hours later, when their masters come home, the kitchen looks like it’s been hit by a chocolate bomb. Will Jim survive Marcus’ reaction?
Originally in the Pour Some Sugar On It Anthology
there's an excerpt here
buy it here
Alan and Mark are successful, rich and have a ton of friends, all thanks to a deal they made with a demon named Riskin. To hold up their end of the bargain, every now and then they have to host Riskin in the bedroom and obey his every whim. Tonight is payday, the best night of the year.
Originally in the Care and Feeding of Demons anthology.
there's an excerpt here
buy it here
Brownies, a Hammer story
When Tanny suggests he and Jim make brownies, it seems a simple enough task. Six hours later, when their masters come home, the kitchen looks like it’s been hit by a chocolate bomb. Will Jim survive Marcus’ reaction?
Originally in the Pour Some Sugar On It Anthology
there's an excerpt here
buy it here
September 10, 2013
Author Spotlight Tuesday - Jan Scarborough
What's your favorite thing about Betting On Love?
I love the happy ending in Betting On Love. It’s a romance, after all, and maybe I’m a little like my character Sarah because I always wanted to find my Prince Charming. I love the setting, my hometown of Louisville, Kentucky, and all the activities surrounding the weeks leading up to the running of the Kentucky Derby. My characters attend the Bluegrass Stakes and Thunder Over Louisville, an air show and massive fireworks that’s the official kick-off to the Kentucky Derby Festival.
I also like the fact that I was able to repurpose a book that languished at a small press where it never made it to Amazon and Kindle. Now with a revision and a good edit, it has a new title and new life as a self-published ebook.
Once upon a time. . . .
Sarah Colby believes in fairy tales and wants to find her Prince Charming. Encouraged by her girlfriends and a matchmaking aunt, Sarah sets out to catch eligible bachelor Lane Williams, a guy with an aversion to settling down.
Someday your prince will come. . . .
A wealthy Bluegrass chef, Lane can’t be bothered with romance. He’s spent his youth taking care of and providing for his younger siblings. Clearly, the sexy, young woman, who wants only marriage and commitment, is trouble for Lane and his new freedom.
The princess gives the frog a kiss goodnight.
As the two work together to pull off a Kentucky Derby charity party, Lane finds himself susceptible to Sarah’s charms…and much, much more. How is he to know she’s a virgin especially when she seduces him?
Instantly, the frog become a handsome prince!
But sometimes even a handsome prince has warts. Can Lane convince Sarah of his true love, and that he really is the man of her dreams?
Buy link at Amazon for Kindle
Excerpt:
Lane entered the barn to find Sarah in a stall with a horse. Her back to the door, her curvy little backside was displayed quite prominently for him to appreciate.
What half-witted compulsion had caused him to seek her out? Only hours before he had been content to remain unapproachable, thinking that was the way to deal with his unfounded fascination with a girl young enough to be one of his sisters.
Yet, all he wanted to do was to be with her, even if it was just to talk. Ignoring her presence hadn’t worked. So against his better judgment, here he was at the barn, giving into his raw impulse, acting like an idiot, and ogling her tempting up-turned derrière.
He stopped dead in his tracks and caught his breath, unable to take his eyes off the alluring image she presented in skintight jodhpurs, thin T-shirt, and black riding boots that looked like jogging shoes. He didn’t know what she was doing with her back to the stall door bending over the horse’s hoof like she was, but in his opinion, she could do whatever she was doing all day—just as long as he was allowed to watch.
Then the horse snorted.
Sarah jerked upright and whipped around, a startled look in her eyes. “What are you staring at?”
“You.” He couldn’t seem to raise his gaze above the front of her T-shirt.
She glared. “You didn’t have to sneak up on me.”
“I didn’t,” he said with a shrug. “I was afraid to make a noise for fear I’d scare the horse. What are you doing?”
It was a lame explanation, but she bought it.
“Just picking Harry’s hooves.” She tossed her hair away from her face.
“What for?”
Looking at him as if he were a complete dolt, she came to the stall door and dropped the tool she had been using into a box. “To get out dirt and debris.”
“Of course. I knew that.” He wanted to cross his fingers at the little fib.
Sarah cast him a suspicious glance and shouldered past, leaving him standing next to the stall. She retreated down the dusty aisle, letting Lane admire the decided sway of her hips. He shifted uneasily as his jeans grew snug.
He had just enough time to readjust himself before she came back carrying a saddle and bridle.
“Going riding?”
“What does it look like?” Shouldering past him one more time, she reentered the stall and settled the saddle on the horse’s back.
Another dumb question. Another caustic response.
Lane’s eyebrows lifted at the sound of her biting tone. Okay, he deserved her sarcasm. He hadn’t treated her very gallantly last night. And heck, he’d been downright rude this morning. But in his mind, it had been a simple matter of self-preservation.
“Care if I watch?”
“Suit yourself.”
Lane liked the efficient way she cinched the saddle and bridled the horse. It reminded him of his own efficiency in the kitchen, confident and competent. How had she come to be so comfortable around horses?
“Move or you’ll get run over,” she snapped at him.
Lane stepped nimbly to the side as she led the massive horse out of the stall. His estimation of her increased ten-fold. To think she had the guts to get on something that huge.
“So, I guess you’ve come to apologize?” Sarah threw the question over her shoulder.
He followed her and the horse down the aisle. “For what?”
“For treating me like the plague last night and this morning.” She turned to face him, her hand on the bridle near the horse’s mouth. “Look, we have to work together. We should at least be civil to one another.”
Civility. That was the answer to his problem. Treat her well. Be polite. Just don’t let his guard down or his emotions show. That should be easy enough for him to do. That’s how he had coped for most of his life. Never letting his mother see his heartache and frustration because she wasn’t strong enough to be the parent he and his siblings needed. Never allowing his kid brother and sisters see how much he worried about them and how he doubted his ability to care for them.
Yes, it would be easy to maintain a civil relationship with Sarah Colby, the kind of relationship appropriate for colleagues. He was very good at playacting.
“I agree.”
“You do?” She sounded surprised.
“Certainly.”
She gave him a charming smile before continuing down the aisle. Lane’s heart slammed against his ribs. He sure could handle being civil if it meant more smiles like that.
“You seem to know what you’re doing.”
She glanced back at him. “I should hope so.” Then she tightened the buckle under the saddle flap.
That answer hadn’t told him much. “How long have you been riding?”
“All my life.” Sarah halted at the open door and turned toward the horse.
Frustrated, wishing he knew how to draw her out, Lane watched as she pulled the stirrup down the leather strap with a loud pop.
She turned to him, slowly drawing on black leather gloves, her gaze sliding over him. “I could use a leg-up.”
“What?”
“You know. A boost into the saddle.”
“Oh. Certainly.”
She flicked another gaze his way, and he caught that teasing look in her eyes—that flirtatious, come-on look from the bar. It unsettled him, causing an abrupt burning in his chest.
He stepped nearer. She faced the horse with the reins fisted into her left hand and her right hand on the back of the saddle. He smelled her clean, floral scent. A warm sensation simmered within him as Sarah placed her left boot into the stirrup and balanced on a shapely right leg.
“Well, I’m waiting.” She expected him to do something. “Grab my right foot and lift me up when I jump.”
Lane stepped closer until he was nearly flush with her back. For one rash moment, he envisioned placing his hands on her shoulders and moving up to touch her tempting little behind with his legs, his thighs, and his need. He pictured pushing aside her thick hair and nuzzling her neck with his lips. The images almost rocked him back on his feet. Fighting for control, he grasped Sarah’s slender booted ankle.
“One, two, three.”
He lifted her up. Light and lissome, she pulled herself into the saddle. It happened fast, and before he knew it, she sat upright on the horse, adjusting her boots into the stirrups, and gathering the reins.
Lane stepped back. Empty-handed. An observer once more.
Sarah looked down at him from the back of the big animal. He turned his eyes up to meet her gaze. Their looks connected and held. It seemed to him that each one searched the other’s face for unspoken answers.
A tempting smile played on her lips. “Thanks a lot.”
“No problem.”
Her gaze lingered on him, stroking him almost longingly and rekindling his desire. Then she pressed her legs into the sides of the horse and made a clucking sound. The animal moved forward out of the stable.
Lane watched her ride into the sunshine. He continued to stand in the half-light inside the barn. His hands fisted.
Once again, he experienced a deep sadness. What was that raw ache he felt?
He and Sarah were acquaintances recently thrown together to help plan a charity event. She wanted commitment. He could—would—offer nothing more than civility, and he had known that when he’d sought her out.
Opening his fingers, Lane turned away. Where Sarah Colby was concerned he suddenly wished he didn’t have to be so civil.
Visit Jan's webpage.
I love the happy ending in Betting On Love. It’s a romance, after all, and maybe I’m a little like my character Sarah because I always wanted to find my Prince Charming. I love the setting, my hometown of Louisville, Kentucky, and all the activities surrounding the weeks leading up to the running of the Kentucky Derby. My characters attend the Bluegrass Stakes and Thunder Over Louisville, an air show and massive fireworks that’s the official kick-off to the Kentucky Derby Festival.
I also like the fact that I was able to repurpose a book that languished at a small press where it never made it to Amazon and Kindle. Now with a revision and a good edit, it has a new title and new life as a self-published ebook.
Once upon a time. . . .
Sarah Colby believes in fairy tales and wants to find her Prince Charming. Encouraged by her girlfriends and a matchmaking aunt, Sarah sets out to catch eligible bachelor Lane Williams, a guy with an aversion to settling down.
Someday your prince will come. . . .
A wealthy Bluegrass chef, Lane can’t be bothered with romance. He’s spent his youth taking care of and providing for his younger siblings. Clearly, the sexy, young woman, who wants only marriage and commitment, is trouble for Lane and his new freedom.
The princess gives the frog a kiss goodnight.
As the two work together to pull off a Kentucky Derby charity party, Lane finds himself susceptible to Sarah’s charms…and much, much more. How is he to know she’s a virgin especially when she seduces him?
Instantly, the frog become a handsome prince!
But sometimes even a handsome prince has warts. Can Lane convince Sarah of his true love, and that he really is the man of her dreams?
Buy link at Amazon for Kindle
Excerpt:
Lane entered the barn to find Sarah in a stall with a horse. Her back to the door, her curvy little backside was displayed quite prominently for him to appreciate.
What half-witted compulsion had caused him to seek her out? Only hours before he had been content to remain unapproachable, thinking that was the way to deal with his unfounded fascination with a girl young enough to be one of his sisters.
Yet, all he wanted to do was to be with her, even if it was just to talk. Ignoring her presence hadn’t worked. So against his better judgment, here he was at the barn, giving into his raw impulse, acting like an idiot, and ogling her tempting up-turned derrière.
He stopped dead in his tracks and caught his breath, unable to take his eyes off the alluring image she presented in skintight jodhpurs, thin T-shirt, and black riding boots that looked like jogging shoes. He didn’t know what she was doing with her back to the stall door bending over the horse’s hoof like she was, but in his opinion, she could do whatever she was doing all day—just as long as he was allowed to watch.
Then the horse snorted.
Sarah jerked upright and whipped around, a startled look in her eyes. “What are you staring at?”
“You.” He couldn’t seem to raise his gaze above the front of her T-shirt.
She glared. “You didn’t have to sneak up on me.”
“I didn’t,” he said with a shrug. “I was afraid to make a noise for fear I’d scare the horse. What are you doing?”
It was a lame explanation, but she bought it.
“Just picking Harry’s hooves.” She tossed her hair away from her face.
“What for?”
Looking at him as if he were a complete dolt, she came to the stall door and dropped the tool she had been using into a box. “To get out dirt and debris.”
“Of course. I knew that.” He wanted to cross his fingers at the little fib.
Sarah cast him a suspicious glance and shouldered past, leaving him standing next to the stall. She retreated down the dusty aisle, letting Lane admire the decided sway of her hips. He shifted uneasily as his jeans grew snug.
He had just enough time to readjust himself before she came back carrying a saddle and bridle.
“Going riding?”
“What does it look like?” Shouldering past him one more time, she reentered the stall and settled the saddle on the horse’s back.
Another dumb question. Another caustic response.
Lane’s eyebrows lifted at the sound of her biting tone. Okay, he deserved her sarcasm. He hadn’t treated her very gallantly last night. And heck, he’d been downright rude this morning. But in his mind, it had been a simple matter of self-preservation.
“Care if I watch?”
“Suit yourself.”
Lane liked the efficient way she cinched the saddle and bridled the horse. It reminded him of his own efficiency in the kitchen, confident and competent. How had she come to be so comfortable around horses?
“Move or you’ll get run over,” she snapped at him.
Lane stepped nimbly to the side as she led the massive horse out of the stall. His estimation of her increased ten-fold. To think she had the guts to get on something that huge.
“So, I guess you’ve come to apologize?” Sarah threw the question over her shoulder.
He followed her and the horse down the aisle. “For what?”
“For treating me like the plague last night and this morning.” She turned to face him, her hand on the bridle near the horse’s mouth. “Look, we have to work together. We should at least be civil to one another.”
Civility. That was the answer to his problem. Treat her well. Be polite. Just don’t let his guard down or his emotions show. That should be easy enough for him to do. That’s how he had coped for most of his life. Never letting his mother see his heartache and frustration because she wasn’t strong enough to be the parent he and his siblings needed. Never allowing his kid brother and sisters see how much he worried about them and how he doubted his ability to care for them.
Yes, it would be easy to maintain a civil relationship with Sarah Colby, the kind of relationship appropriate for colleagues. He was very good at playacting.
“I agree.”
“You do?” She sounded surprised.
“Certainly.”
She gave him a charming smile before continuing down the aisle. Lane’s heart slammed against his ribs. He sure could handle being civil if it meant more smiles like that.
“You seem to know what you’re doing.”
She glanced back at him. “I should hope so.” Then she tightened the buckle under the saddle flap.
That answer hadn’t told him much. “How long have you been riding?”
“All my life.” Sarah halted at the open door and turned toward the horse.
Frustrated, wishing he knew how to draw her out, Lane watched as she pulled the stirrup down the leather strap with a loud pop.
She turned to him, slowly drawing on black leather gloves, her gaze sliding over him. “I could use a leg-up.”
“What?”
“You know. A boost into the saddle.”
“Oh. Certainly.”
She flicked another gaze his way, and he caught that teasing look in her eyes—that flirtatious, come-on look from the bar. It unsettled him, causing an abrupt burning in his chest.
He stepped nearer. She faced the horse with the reins fisted into her left hand and her right hand on the back of the saddle. He smelled her clean, floral scent. A warm sensation simmered within him as Sarah placed her left boot into the stirrup and balanced on a shapely right leg.
“Well, I’m waiting.” She expected him to do something. “Grab my right foot and lift me up when I jump.”
Lane stepped closer until he was nearly flush with her back. For one rash moment, he envisioned placing his hands on her shoulders and moving up to touch her tempting little behind with his legs, his thighs, and his need. He pictured pushing aside her thick hair and nuzzling her neck with his lips. The images almost rocked him back on his feet. Fighting for control, he grasped Sarah’s slender booted ankle.
“One, two, three.”
He lifted her up. Light and lissome, she pulled herself into the saddle. It happened fast, and before he knew it, she sat upright on the horse, adjusting her boots into the stirrups, and gathering the reins.
Lane stepped back. Empty-handed. An observer once more.
Sarah looked down at him from the back of the big animal. He turned his eyes up to meet her gaze. Their looks connected and held. It seemed to him that each one searched the other’s face for unspoken answers.
A tempting smile played on her lips. “Thanks a lot.”
“No problem.”
Her gaze lingered on him, stroking him almost longingly and rekindling his desire. Then she pressed her legs into the sides of the horse and made a clucking sound. The animal moved forward out of the stable.
Lane watched her ride into the sunshine. He continued to stand in the half-light inside the barn. His hands fisted.
Once again, he experienced a deep sadness. What was that raw ache he felt?
He and Sarah were acquaintances recently thrown together to help plan a charity event. She wanted commitment. He could—would—offer nothing more than civility, and he had known that when he’d sought her out.
Opening his fingers, Lane turned away. Where Sarah Colby was concerned he suddenly wished he didn’t have to be so civil.
Visit Jan's webpage.
September 9, 2013
September 4, 2013
Well, it's Wednesday
Okay, so I finally had my webpage updated and I'm determined to get it updated on a regular basis from here on in... yeah, we'll see how that goes. Anyway, there's a new contest on the contact page -- so go take a look.
I also got September's newsletter out! And it's only the Fourth! How did that happen? Magic, I think ;) There's three contests for September releases as well as a new Hammer Club Bulletin Board.
Do you know what a 'street team' is? I've only just learned the term and have jumped in feet first with Kiernan Kelly, Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga. Here's the official verbiage:
Join the My Boys Touch Street Team
What happens when Kiernan Kelly, Sean Michael, Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga put their heads together and decide to cause trouble? That’s right, y’all. STREET TEAM!
*sparkles*
So, what in heaven is a street team?
A street team is a group of readers and bloggers and folks that want to help their favorite writers spread the word about books. Simple as that. How? Host one of us on your blog. Like the books online. Share covers. Give your honest reviews on Goodreads and Amazon and tweet about releases. Vote in contests.
Basically stuff y’all already do, but you get stuff!
What are the bennies of being on the MBT Street Team?
Ha!
Free books. Swag. ARCs. Access to a private Yahoo group where you can directly interact with Sean, Kiernan, Julia and BA, get your questions answered, and get involved in the crazy process that is writing life. See WIP ideas, get excerpts, cover reveals, and more. You get deleted scenes, book details, first chance to be a part of Release Tours.
You can join the yahoo group here.
In other news, Shibari Auction House: James is up at All Romance Ebooks now, and 39 on their best seller list It snuck in ahead of Balls and Strikes which is 43.
And what would a Wednesday be if I didn't wish you a happy humping day?
Happy Humping Day everyone!
I also got September's newsletter out! And it's only the Fourth! How did that happen? Magic, I think ;) There's three contests for September releases as well as a new Hammer Club Bulletin Board.
Do you know what a 'street team' is? I've only just learned the term and have jumped in feet first with Kiernan Kelly, Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga. Here's the official verbiage:
Join the My Boys Touch Street Team
What happens when Kiernan Kelly, Sean Michael, Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga put their heads together and decide to cause trouble? That’s right, y’all. STREET TEAM!
*sparkles*
So, what in heaven is a street team?
A street team is a group of readers and bloggers and folks that want to help their favorite writers spread the word about books. Simple as that. How? Host one of us on your blog. Like the books online. Share covers. Give your honest reviews on Goodreads and Amazon and tweet about releases. Vote in contests.
Basically stuff y’all already do, but you get stuff!
What are the bennies of being on the MBT Street Team?
Ha!
Free books. Swag. ARCs. Access to a private Yahoo group where you can directly interact with Sean, Kiernan, Julia and BA, get your questions answered, and get involved in the crazy process that is writing life. See WIP ideas, get excerpts, cover reveals, and more. You get deleted scenes, book details, first chance to be a part of Release Tours.
You can join the yahoo group here.
In other news, Shibari Auction House: James is up at All Romance Ebooks now, and 39 on their best seller list It snuck in ahead of Balls and Strikes which is 43.
And what would a Wednesday be if I didn't wish you a happy humping day?
Happy Humping Day everyone!
September 3, 2013
Author Spotlight Tuesday - LM Sommerton
Hi Sean,
Thanks for having me over for a visit. The questions were fun but I ended up imagining a tattooed hunk in see-through underwear tied to my bed. Not conducive to getting any writing done!
L. M.
xx
Boxers or briefs?
Boxer briefs. Preferably black and slightly translucent.
Favorite position to write?
Anywhere I can hide so the cat doesn’t find me. Typing with him on my lap results in a need for physiotherapy.
Favorite kink to write?
All things BDSM, but imaginative bondage and edging are favourites.
Tattoos or piercings?
Tattoos. I love Celtic designs.
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
All. Definitely.
What's your favorite thing about Dancing on the Edge?
Exploring the development of a committed couple’s relationship rather than new love – it’s a bit different for me – and because it’s the third book in the series I could build in established characters too, which was great fun.
Dancing on the Edge is book three in the Tales from The Edge series.
Life is a dance. Whether you lead or follow, the passion of it should sweep you away.
Carey and Alistair have the kind of relationship that is the envy of their friends. Carey is an old-fashioned Dom who appreciates quiet obedience. Alistair is a sub who is comfortable in his skin and finds peace in his submission. Needless to say, their happiness is too good to last.
When Alistair’s powerful father chooses his reputation over his son, all hell is let loose. Forcibly committed to a clinic for reversion therapy, Alistair can only hope that his lover will save him.
Carey calls on his friends from The Edge and they band together not just to rescue Alistair but also to protect his future. They’ve all flirted with danger in the past - but friendship is worth any risk. As the tension mounts and the stakes get higher, new bonds are forged but will Carey and Alistair’s love survive?
Reader Advisory: This book contains the use of restraints, the pushing of boundaries and edging, kidnap, forceful imprisonment and forms of visual torture along with scenes of prolonged physical torture. It also contains characters with extreme prejudiced views. This book is best read in sequence as part of the series.
Excerpt:
Alistair projected perfect serenity—as if there was nowhere in the world he would rather be than naked, on his knees, in front of his master. Carey had no reason to believe that wasn’t true and it was something he loved about Alistair. Oh, the boy could be a brat when he wanted to be, but for a young man, he had a mastery of his body that Carey had never seen matched.
Carey touched Alistair’s chin with his knuckles, prompting him to look up. Carey brushed a finger across Alistair’s lips and smiled as they parted. Alistair suckled gently, his sighs of pleasure loud in the quiet room.
“Let’s move your attention elsewhere, love.” Carey sat on the edge of the bed and unzipped his fly, allowing his swollen cock to spring free. Unbidden, Alistair crawled across the room and positioned himself between Carey’s knees. He looked up hopefully, making Carey grin and nod his permission.
Carey spread his legs wide and waited for Alistair to work his magic. At first Alistair gave light, tentative flicks of the tongue, then languorously slow licks that travelled Carey’s straining cock from base to tip. Alistair kissed the leaking head then took it into the warmth of his mouth. Just the head, nothing more. He sucked gently, putting his hands on Carey’s thighs for balance. Carey wound his fingers into Alistair’s soft hair, not to force his movement but to let him know that his master was there and paying attention to his needs too. The sucking increased, Alistair’s cheeks hollowing as he dipped forward, taking Carey’s entire length before drawing slowly back, scraping lightly with his teeth as he did.
Carey’s pulse raced—he gripped Alistair’s hair tighter, he was getting close. Alistair took him deep into his throat and held him there for a few delicious seconds before pulling back again. He looked up, as if he knew how close Carey was, checking whether his master wanted to come or wait. Carey tugged a few strands of hair, giving Alistair the signal to withdraw. He didn’t want to come just yet. He stood carefully, legs trembling a little, and walked across to the chest of drawers where he kept a small collection of toys. The new ball gag sat there, nestled between a pile of Alistair’s skimpy underwear and Carey’s winter pyjamas.
The black rubber ball wasn’t huge. Carey wanted to keep Alistair quiet, not stretch his face into some weird parody of ‘The Scream’. Alistair pouted prettily when he saw it, but the dark flush to his rigid cock told Carey that he wasn’t really objecting. Carey slipped the ball into place and tightened the straps around Alistair’s head, being careful not to catch his hair.
“That’s lovely, sweetheart. Now on to the bed, hands and knees. You know what to do if you want to safe word?”
Alistair nodded as he got into position. Carey reminded him anyway, “Good. You bang the bed with your fist and I stop.” He was always scrupulous about safety—Alistair had a tendency to be stubborn. Carey stripped down, enjoying the feel of the air on his warm skin. Alistair had managed to get him nicely close to boiling point and he couldn’t wait to bubble over, but first he had to pay another visit to the toy drawer. He retrieved Alistair’s favourite paddle—it was made of flexible steel sheathed in a thick rubber sleeve and could deliver a painful whack. Although Carey was a strict master most of the time, it was indulgent to give the boy what he enjoyed the most and an occasional lapse into soppiness was allowed.
Alistair was trying to peer back at him—difficult from his current position and he knew he wasn’t supposed to look unless he was told to.
“Eyes to the front, boy, or I’ll blindfold you as well.” Carey kept his tone light and conversational. He never said anything he didn’t mean and felt that a raised voice signified loss of control. Alistair snapped his head back into position, but he wiggled his arse cheekily.
“Patience, brat, all in good time. First I need to warm you up a little. Spread your legs wider.”
Alistair moaned around the gag but did as he’d been told, resting his forearms on the bed for better stability.
Carey took a nice relaxed stance and slapped the paddle against his thigh. The sound would let Alistair know what was coming. Carey drew back his arm and delivered the first blow with measured force then watched with pleasure as Alistair’s pale skin flushed with colour. He gave Alistair a second or two to catch his breath then took up a steady rhythm with the paddle. Alistair’s sweet little whimpers turned to moans, but his cock was hard and slick with pre-cum. Carey knew that the moans were more about Alistair’s efforts not to come than they were about the pain. He laid the paddle on the bed and pressed his hand to the reddened skin. Warmth soaked into his palm as he gently stroked the curve of Alistair’s arse.
“You took that beautifully, love. You really want to come now, don’t you?”
Alistair nodded frantically.
“Well then, this will be an excellent lesson in control, won’t it? You are not to come until I say so.” Carey chuckled at his own cruelty. He could have given Alistair a cock ring, but that would have made restraint too easy for him. Carey loved to watch him squirm and cry with need. The single command to end his frustration was the biggest gift he could give.
Buy it here.
Contacts for LM Sommerton:
http://lmsomerton.wordpress.com
http://www.facebook.com/lmsomerton
http://pinterest.com/lmsomerton
https://www.amazon.com/author/lmsomerton
Twitter: @lmsomerton
Thanks for having me over for a visit. The questions were fun but I ended up imagining a tattooed hunk in see-through underwear tied to my bed. Not conducive to getting any writing done!
L. M.
xx
Boxers or briefs?
Boxer briefs. Preferably black and slightly translucent.
Favorite position to write?
Anywhere I can hide so the cat doesn’t find me. Typing with him on my lap results in a need for physiotherapy.
Favorite kink to write?
All things BDSM, but imaginative bondage and edging are favourites.
Tattoos or piercings?
Tattoos. I love Celtic designs.
Cut, uncut or I love them all?
All. Definitely.
What's your favorite thing about Dancing on the Edge?
Exploring the development of a committed couple’s relationship rather than new love – it’s a bit different for me – and because it’s the third book in the series I could build in established characters too, which was great fun.
Dancing on the Edge is book three in the Tales from The Edge series.
Life is a dance. Whether you lead or follow, the passion of it should sweep you away.
Carey and Alistair have the kind of relationship that is the envy of their friends. Carey is an old-fashioned Dom who appreciates quiet obedience. Alistair is a sub who is comfortable in his skin and finds peace in his submission. Needless to say, their happiness is too good to last.
When Alistair’s powerful father chooses his reputation over his son, all hell is let loose. Forcibly committed to a clinic for reversion therapy, Alistair can only hope that his lover will save him.
Carey calls on his friends from The Edge and they band together not just to rescue Alistair but also to protect his future. They’ve all flirted with danger in the past - but friendship is worth any risk. As the tension mounts and the stakes get higher, new bonds are forged but will Carey and Alistair’s love survive?
Reader Advisory: This book contains the use of restraints, the pushing of boundaries and edging, kidnap, forceful imprisonment and forms of visual torture along with scenes of prolonged physical torture. It also contains characters with extreme prejudiced views. This book is best read in sequence as part of the series.
Excerpt:
Alistair projected perfect serenity—as if there was nowhere in the world he would rather be than naked, on his knees, in front of his master. Carey had no reason to believe that wasn’t true and it was something he loved about Alistair. Oh, the boy could be a brat when he wanted to be, but for a young man, he had a mastery of his body that Carey had never seen matched.
Carey touched Alistair’s chin with his knuckles, prompting him to look up. Carey brushed a finger across Alistair’s lips and smiled as they parted. Alistair suckled gently, his sighs of pleasure loud in the quiet room.
“Let’s move your attention elsewhere, love.” Carey sat on the edge of the bed and unzipped his fly, allowing his swollen cock to spring free. Unbidden, Alistair crawled across the room and positioned himself between Carey’s knees. He looked up hopefully, making Carey grin and nod his permission.
Carey spread his legs wide and waited for Alistair to work his magic. At first Alistair gave light, tentative flicks of the tongue, then languorously slow licks that travelled Carey’s straining cock from base to tip. Alistair kissed the leaking head then took it into the warmth of his mouth. Just the head, nothing more. He sucked gently, putting his hands on Carey’s thighs for balance. Carey wound his fingers into Alistair’s soft hair, not to force his movement but to let him know that his master was there and paying attention to his needs too. The sucking increased, Alistair’s cheeks hollowing as he dipped forward, taking Carey’s entire length before drawing slowly back, scraping lightly with his teeth as he did.
Carey’s pulse raced—he gripped Alistair’s hair tighter, he was getting close. Alistair took him deep into his throat and held him there for a few delicious seconds before pulling back again. He looked up, as if he knew how close Carey was, checking whether his master wanted to come or wait. Carey tugged a few strands of hair, giving Alistair the signal to withdraw. He didn’t want to come just yet. He stood carefully, legs trembling a little, and walked across to the chest of drawers where he kept a small collection of toys. The new ball gag sat there, nestled between a pile of Alistair’s skimpy underwear and Carey’s winter pyjamas.
The black rubber ball wasn’t huge. Carey wanted to keep Alistair quiet, not stretch his face into some weird parody of ‘The Scream’. Alistair pouted prettily when he saw it, but the dark flush to his rigid cock told Carey that he wasn’t really objecting. Carey slipped the ball into place and tightened the straps around Alistair’s head, being careful not to catch his hair.
“That’s lovely, sweetheart. Now on to the bed, hands and knees. You know what to do if you want to safe word?”
Alistair nodded as he got into position. Carey reminded him anyway, “Good. You bang the bed with your fist and I stop.” He was always scrupulous about safety—Alistair had a tendency to be stubborn. Carey stripped down, enjoying the feel of the air on his warm skin. Alistair had managed to get him nicely close to boiling point and he couldn’t wait to bubble over, but first he had to pay another visit to the toy drawer. He retrieved Alistair’s favourite paddle—it was made of flexible steel sheathed in a thick rubber sleeve and could deliver a painful whack. Although Carey was a strict master most of the time, it was indulgent to give the boy what he enjoyed the most and an occasional lapse into soppiness was allowed.
Alistair was trying to peer back at him—difficult from his current position and he knew he wasn’t supposed to look unless he was told to.
“Eyes to the front, boy, or I’ll blindfold you as well.” Carey kept his tone light and conversational. He never said anything he didn’t mean and felt that a raised voice signified loss of control. Alistair snapped his head back into position, but he wiggled his arse cheekily.
“Patience, brat, all in good time. First I need to warm you up a little. Spread your legs wider.”
Alistair moaned around the gag but did as he’d been told, resting his forearms on the bed for better stability.
Carey took a nice relaxed stance and slapped the paddle against his thigh. The sound would let Alistair know what was coming. Carey drew back his arm and delivered the first blow with measured force then watched with pleasure as Alistair’s pale skin flushed with colour. He gave Alistair a second or two to catch his breath then took up a steady rhythm with the paddle. Alistair’s sweet little whimpers turned to moans, but his cock was hard and slick with pre-cum. Carey knew that the moans were more about Alistair’s efforts not to come than they were about the pain. He laid the paddle on the bed and pressed his hand to the reddened skin. Warmth soaked into his palm as he gently stroked the curve of Alistair’s arse.
“You took that beautifully, love. You really want to come now, don’t you?”
Alistair nodded frantically.
“Well then, this will be an excellent lesson in control, won’t it? You are not to come until I say so.” Carey chuckled at his own cruelty. He could have given Alistair a cock ring, but that would have made restraint too easy for him. Carey loved to watch him squirm and cry with need. The single command to end his frustration was the biggest gift he could give.
Buy it here.
Contacts for LM Sommerton:
http://lmsomerton.wordpress.com
http://www.facebook.com/lmsomerton
http://pinterest.com/lmsomerton
https://www.amazon.com/author/lmsomerton
Twitter: @lmsomerton
September 2, 2013
My God It's Monday
It's September! I heard someone say recently that September was the Monday of the year. I thought it was apt. I actually like the promise of cooler weather that September brings :)
I have two reprint short stories coming out on September 11. Payday was originally in the Care and Feeding of Demons anthology and Brownies, a Hammer story was originally in the Pour Some Sugar On It anthology.
I also have the next Sealed With a Kink story coming out in September -- the 25th. This one is SWAK: Pony Play. I'll share as soon as I have a cover.
Also on the 25th, I have a novella in an anthology with Kiernan Kelly, Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga called Bar None, and I have a novella coming out called Pour Me a Triple, also on the 25th. September is a busy month!
I got my werewolf book Crouching Vegan, Hidden Werewolf in to Amber Allure. I don't have a date yet, but I'll let you know as soon as I do.
Have you been downloading your free ebooks from Torquere Press? Mine was last night, but it's going on all month long, so there's lots to choose from!
Last Day for the Labour Day Sales:
Changeling Press: 15% off one order as long as one of the books is glbt with code LaborDay2013. My books with them are here.
Torquere Press: 20% off with the code labordaysale good on every order before midnight on Monday. My books with them are here.
Tomorrow I am on the Rainbow Studio Blog.
Tomorrow's Author Spotlight Tuesday is LM Sommerton.
I have two reprint short stories coming out on September 11. Payday was originally in the Care and Feeding of Demons anthology and Brownies, a Hammer story was originally in the Pour Some Sugar On It anthology.
I also have the next Sealed With a Kink story coming out in September -- the 25th. This one is SWAK: Pony Play. I'll share as soon as I have a cover.
Also on the 25th, I have a novella in an anthology with Kiernan Kelly, Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga called Bar None, and I have a novella coming out called Pour Me a Triple, also on the 25th. September is a busy month!
I got my werewolf book Crouching Vegan, Hidden Werewolf in to Amber Allure. I don't have a date yet, but I'll let you know as soon as I do.
Have you been downloading your free ebooks from Torquere Press? Mine was last night, but it's going on all month long, so there's lots to choose from!
Last Day for the Labour Day Sales:
Changeling Press: 15% off one order as long as one of the books is glbt with code LaborDay2013. My books with them are here.
Torquere Press: 20% off with the code labordaysale good on every order before midnight on Monday. My books with them are here.
Tomorrow I am on the Rainbow Studio Blog.
Tomorrow's Author Spotlight Tuesday is LM Sommerton.
August 31, 2013
Suddenly Saturday
Wow, all of a sudden it's Saturday and Labour Day weekend! I honestly don't know where the summer went...
Two of my publishers have Labour Day sales going on.
Changeling Press: 15% off one order as long as one of the books is glbt with code LaborDay2013. My books with them are here.
Torquere Press: 20% off with the code labordaysale good on every order before midnight on Monday. My books with them are here.
September is Torquere Press' 10th anniversary. They are doing one hour of free books -- a different book every day. Forged will be available from 1-2 am CST on September 2 -- so if you haven't picked it up yet, here's your chance. To see all the rest of the books that will be free and when they will be free -- there's a list here.
And also -- Happy Labour Day Weekend to all my readers!
Two of my publishers have Labour Day sales going on.
Changeling Press: 15% off one order as long as one of the books is glbt with code LaborDay2013. My books with them are here.
Torquere Press: 20% off with the code labordaysale good on every order before midnight on Monday. My books with them are here.
September is Torquere Press' 10th anniversary. They are doing one hour of free books -- a different book every day. Forged will be available from 1-2 am CST on September 2 -- so if you haven't picked it up yet, here's your chance. To see all the rest of the books that will be free and when they will be free -- there's a list here.
And also -- Happy Labour Day Weekend to all my readers!
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