Sean Michael's Blog, page 29

My God It's Monday

And it's one of those really feels like a Monday Mondays.

I'm guesting in several places this week:

The Amber Allure Blog on Tuesday
LM Sommerton's Blog on Thursday
The Torquere Social LJ on Friday
The Amber Allure PAX blog on Friday
Romance Cooks on Saturday
I need to do my newsletter before the end of the week and my webpage hasn't been updated in months, I must correct that.

No rest for the wicked!

I saw a lot of movies last week: Rise of the Guardians, Skyfall, Red Dawn, The Punisher and the Star Trek the reboot (which I had already seen before). Anyone have any suggestions for movies I must see?

Tomorrow's guest on Author Spotlight Tuesday is Julia Talbot!

Okay, that's all I've got today... so I'll leave you with the cover for Working it Out again, which is now out from Amber Allure :)

Working it Out now out!

Four years ago, Luke walked out on Affton while he was still sleeping, leaving only a quick “I can’t do this” email behind. Affton has spent those four years focused on his career, a now-successful one at that. So when Affton encounters Luke in the graphics department of the company for which he now works, it rocks his world.

Insisting that Luke owes him a coffee at least, Affton finds his world further rocked when he learns why Luke left him in the first place. Can he convince Luke that he isn’t the man Luke believes him to be and that they deserve a second chance? Or will he be fated to watch Luke run away from him yet again?

buy it here


“We’ll have a whole new graphics package ready for you by noon tomorrow, Geoffrey. I’ll bring it to lunch at Laffite.” Affton laid on the charm, smoothing the waters as well as he could.

Richard Chalmers was one of Fillian Commercial’s biggest clients and he was not going to disappoint the man.

“I’ll see you there. I’m looking forward to it.”

He hung up, grabbed the file, and headed to the graphics department. Heads were going to roll and then no one was going home until the graphics had been fixed. They looked nothing like what the client had asked for, or for that matter, like what they’d pitched to Geoffrey in the first place.

The graphics department was a floor down and Affton strode down the stairs, building his head of steam as he went. They were a billion dollar advertising agency and this kind of mistake was not on. The graphics department had its own wing, but was otherwise open concept, so he was able to start yelling as soon as he was in the door.

“I want everyone responsible for so much as a dot on the Chalmers account in front of me in the next thirty seconds.”

The artists and computer geeks looked up, the place like a warren with little meerkats popping up and down.

“Twenty seconds. Why is no one running like their lives depend on it? ’Cause I swear to fucking God, your job does.”

“Seriously? Last time I checked I didn’t jump like a dog when someone barked.” A round, brightly colored, fierce woman looked at him through cat-eyed glasses. “Suits.”

“This suit can fire your ass like that.” He snapped his fingers. “The Chalmers account is one of our biggest and the client is anything but happy. I’m not playing here, people.” He opened the file and began reading off the names from the graphics department who were associated with the file. “Louise Belmar. Donald Scarp. Ilia Warken. Luke Addis…” His voice faded away. Luke Addison? No fucking way. Not his Luke Addison.

Though, Affton supposed that he’d lost any right to call Luke his the day the man had packed up and walked out on him without a single explanation.

He looked up, eyes narrowing.

“I’m Louise. Ilia’s not here today.” She stood up to him, unafraid. “What’s the problem?”

“Did you read the client’s specs on the latest campaign? Because what you turned in doesn’t even come close. It’s not even in the same ballpark. And where the fuck are Donald and Luke?”

“The problem is the idiot who came up with the concept is either blind, stupid, or a rhinoceros.” That was Luke. His Luke, looking tiny in a pair of hip-hop jeans and a gigantic sweatshirt. “Donald spent two weeks trying to make those things work. It’s a shit concept.”

Affton couldn’t fucking believe Luke was standing there, looking fierce as hell. He felt like he’d been hit over the head with a brick, or was having a stroke or something. It was all he could do to focus on the problem at hand. “I don’t care if it’s a shit concept, it’s the concept that the client came to us with. Not to mention, I didn’t get one single fucking memo letting me know anyone was having trouble with this fucking campaign.” He kept telling himself to ignore the fact that this was his Luke Addison. Why hadn’t he known the man worked for Fillian now?

Louise looked at Luke, who looked back and shrugged. “I just animate what I’m given, Lou. My contract states I never have to deal with the executives. That’s your job.” Then Luke just walked away.

Affton’s mouth dropped open as once again, Luke walked away from him like he didn’t even exist.

“This needs to be fixed,” he snarled to Louise, the only one still left. “By noon tomorrow. I don’t care if the arty farty types think it’s a bad idea or isn’t creative enough. It’s what the client wants and if it isn’t on my desk by noon everyone on this project is fired because we can’t pay you if we lose our best customers because you people can’t be arsed to give them what they’ve asked for.” He slammed the client file on the closest desk and stomped off.

Goddamn it, he was pissed off.

Who the hell did Luke Addison think he was, walking away from Affton—twice!—like he wasn’t worth even a fucking backward look?

He stomped all the way back to his office, grabbed his gym bag and headed up to the gym three floors up to do a rep, or five hundred.

Thursday Three

Shibari Auction House: Jack was a top pick at the Romance Reviews and now it's been nominated for best glbt bdsm 2012 romance!


You can vote for it here. Voting is open until March 30.



When Jack's gambling debts catch up to him and he's about to lose both legs to his loan shark (if he's lucky), he decides to sell three years of service to the highest bidder, hoping someone is willing to pay him enough to clear his debts for good.

But is he jumping from the frying pan into the fire?

You can pick it up here and there's an excerpt for it here.

Working it Out comes out on Sunday!



Four years ago, Luke walked out on Affton while he was still sleeping, leaving only a quick “I can’t do this” email behind. Affton has spent those four years focused on his career, a now-successful one at that. So when Affton encounters Luke in the graphics department of the company for which he now works, it rocks his world.

Insisting that Luke owes him a coffee at least, Affton finds his world further rocked when he learns why Luke left him in the first place. Can he convince Luke that he isn’t the man Luke believes him to be and that they deserve a second chance? Or will he be fated to watch Luke run away from him yet again?

Look for it on Sunday!

Lots of blogging type stuff today through Sunday:

I'm over at the TRS Release party today, talking about Treat, a Hammer story and Working It Out

On Saturday, I've got a post on Renee George's 30 days of Menage

I'll also be chatting on Love Romance Cafe's yahoo loop on Saturday

And last, but not least, Dawn Roberto has an interview with Treat on her Reading Nook on Sunday

Treat, a Hammer story now out!

Really on just on their feet again after their sub Peter died of cancer, Treat and Killian are thrown for a loop when Killian is kidnapped by a madman's brother. Shot during the rescue, Killian is injured, both physically and mentally.

Can Treat find a way to heal the new scars on Killian's psyche, or will this latest incident be the final straw?

buy it here

There's an excerpt here.


Treat slipped out of bed, pleased that Killian was still sleeping. He knew his lover would need another pill when he did wake up, though, so he went into the kitchen and put water on to boil for Cream of Wheat. He did the dishes while he waited for the water to begin bubbling.

A wave of rage hit him, suddenly, right in the gut, a sucker punch. They'd taken Little Francis in and loved him after that bastard had abused him, cared for him and, just when the man had things together, the bastard's brothers kidnapped and shot his lover. Killed a cop.

He slammed his fists down on the counter, holding back the roar of anger that wanted out.

"Treat?" Killian came running in, best he could with the cast on his leg, naked but for the bandages, hair wild around his shoulders.

Treat took a breath and then another. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Are you okay? Is someone here? Did something happen?"

"No, no. No one is here. Nothing happened, I just... I got angry."

"Oh. At who?" Killian started shivering.

"The assholes who did this to you." He waved at Killian's bandages. "How dare they?"

Killian nodded, looking at him so seriously. "I know. Like you and I had anything to do with their brother."

"Who the hell do they think they are? Hurting people -- anyone -- but especially you?" He shook his head, lips going tight. "I'm not a violent man, lover, but I want to hurt them. A lot."

"I know." Killian turned and headed for the back of the house.

Frowning, he followed Killian. "Love?"

Don’t walk away from me. Don’t hide from me.

"Cold. Grabbing my robe."

Oh. Oh, god. They were so used to being wrong that something so simple felt weird. He followed Killian into the bedroom and wrapped around his lover, hugging and holding on, because he could.

Killian leaned into him. "Good morning, love."

"Good morning." He kissed Killian slowly. "A very good morning. You and me and nowhere to be." Little Francis was running the shop for them for the next few days.

"Good. I'm worn out, today."

"Of course you are. You're due a full day of pampering." More than a full day of it, but that was a start.

Killian kissed his jaw, then backed away. "Let me get my robe and I'll help with breakfast."

"No. You can get your robe and then go sit in one of the comfy chairs in the living room and watch something on TV. I'll bring out breakfast when it's done."

"I can help." Stubborn man.

Treat put his hands on his hips. "Go and sit."

Killian arched an eyebrow, challenging him. "I'm completely capable."

"Of going and sitting and relaxing while I make breakfast for you? I'm not sure that you are capable of doing that." Treat wasn't sure Killian was capable of that at all.

"Butthead. I can make coffee."

"Will you quit being such a stubborn cuss and go sit for fuck's sake? I'm trying to pamper you and you're making it impossible!" And he wasn't angry at his lover, but Killian was making him raise his voice.

"Don't yell! And rescue the food, it's burning!"

"Shit!" He turned and ran for the kitchen.

Killian's chuckles followed him, all the way down the hall.

Author Spolight Tuesday - Cheryl Dragon

Boxers or briefs?

Briefs...or boxer briefs are fun!!

Favorite position to write?

Doggie style because there is the element of surprise...someone is always vulnerable.

Favorite kink to write?

group sex/ multiple partners -- I love bisexual men

Tattoos or piercings?

on me? just the ears. I do love ink and piercings on men...in the right places.

Cut, uncut or I love them all?

as long as it's HARD enough and BIG enough to get the job done--that's all that matters!

What's your favorite thing about Hot Rivals?

hot gay men taking all their clothes off on a Vegas stage...so all of it really



Hot Rivals
All Male Nudes Book 1
by Cheryl Dragon
MM Contemp Erotic Romance
Buy Link

Blurb: Jay and Robbie both bare their bodies at the most popular strip club in Vegas. Pleasing the customer is their main job. However, Jay isn’t going to let the new guy knock him out of the top spot without playing dirty. Dating another stripper is asking for trouble, but in the end Jay finds himself being seduced by the sexiest cowboy in Vegas!

Excerpt:

Jay Belfer watched his main competition from the corner of his eye. Robbie Sloan was fairly new to the Big D’s strip club. Sexy and friendly, Robbie made it easy to like him. The clients went wild for that cowboy charm. Jay worked hard not to get too close but kept an eye on the new meat. This was a job, and Jay had a lot invested in Big D’s.

Everyone knew the “D” stood for Dicks but the owner insisted it stood for her last name, D’Agostino. She loved well-hung men performing in her club, which was actually two strip clubs sharing one big building. One side for male patrons, the other for female.

The men’s half of the club featured all-the-way performances on stage. All the men—at least those working on the men’s side tonight—stripped down to nothing. On the other side of the building, another group of guys were doing the exact same thing for a screaming crowd of horny women. Jay never got tired of the rush of being on stage, no matter who he entertained.

In this crowd of gay men, he easily spotted the owner, Bev, watching Robbie shake his ass for the crowd. A professional stripper seven years now, Jay kept his eyes on the crowd and connected with the customers. He was still the top draw—for now.

The new guy, Robbie, was hard to resist and two years younger at twenty-five. He was tan with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. The guy came from a rodeo background so he was flexible and rugged, but rumors reported he had zero cash. Not unusual given the type of work he’d fallen into.

As the men’s pants came off, the crowd cheered. Jay gave them a little smile and saw a lot of regulars out there. Down to gauzy briefs that were pretty much see-through, he let the thrill of the crowd and exhibition turn him on. Jay insisted to himself that it wasn’t Robbie’s tight ass or slightly hairy chest getting his dick up. No way!

Bev generally demanded meticulous manscaping, but Robbie’s chest hair wasn’t overly thick and laid flat against his muscled form. She said it gave him added sex appeal and matched his wild western image. Jay glanced over and saw Robbie’s cock growing. Bev liked men to show it all on stage. It set their club apart. One side for women, one for men, but all of the men went nude and got turned on!

Having to show their erection on stage sent many newbie and wannabe strippers running for the hills. Most new guys thought it’d be easy money on their first day, but Bev was tough on her dancers. Performing took practice and work. The group of men turned and ripped off their briefs. Jay looked at Robbie and cursed himself. With his back to the crowd, Jay admiring other men didn’t matter for the show, but he was really getting turned on. This wasn’t just his usual showing-off hard on today.

Turning, they strutted their stuff and fanned out on the stage to display their full potential. The crowd went wild and after a few minutes, the strippers all headed back to the dressing room. Nudity never bothered Jay, and it didn’t last long. He’d done worse things for money.

Dressing for their next rounds, Jay didn’t have to rush. He was in the last group as a featured dancer. Robbie had moved around the lineup and was growing in popularity. Of course, tonight, he grabbed the chair next to Jay.

“Great crowd.” Robbie closed his jeans then tugged on a long-sleeved shirt.

“They’re good.” Jay noticed Robbie’s cock was still firm in the jeans.

His own member wasn’t relaxing as fast as it normally did. Damn attraction. He always wanted the wrong men! Robbie wasn’t a bad guy, at least not that Jay had found out, but he was the main competition.

Robbie layered a vest and a worn leather jacket atop his shirt. When he bent over to tug on his cowboy boots, Jay forced himself not to imagine Robbie blowing Jay’s cock there in a room full of mostly naked men. No other stripper had turned Jay on so much without even making a pass at him.

“You okay? You looked lost,” Robbie said.

“Fine. Just some stuff on my mind. On stage, I can blank it out, but I don’t go on for a while.”

“I’m up now. See you later.” Robbie smiled wide and dashed for the stage.

Bev liked the contrast of going all nude at first then having men layer on the costumes and show off their individual appeal. The first dance with all the men let customers check them out. Whatever tips came in were split equally from that. From now until the finale, it was one to three guys on the stage performing.

Jay refused to get up and watch Robbie from backstage, no matter how much his cock twitched. Luckily, another dancer came over and sat next to Jay. Any distraction was welcome and Ken had been around Big D’s a lot longer.

“Hot guy. He’s got a crush on you,” Ken teased.

“He’s got a story.” Jay didn’t like competition, but no one could be on top forever. He’d unseated Ken as the top dog a few years back. Ken was blond with dark brown eyes and a swimmer’s body that made women drool. But at forty, he was a veteran. Women and men still loved him, but he wasn’t the new flavor anymore. Jay felt the tug of knowing he wasn’t new, either. Hopefully, he’d handle losing the top spot someday as well as Ken had. He hadn’t iced out Jay, and Ken certainly hadn’t given up.

“We’ve all got a story. I heard his family is in rodeo. They found out he liked dick and tossed him.” Ken adjusted his tie. His tuxedo costume was perfect for him. Classy, sassy, and let him show off his dancing skills at a slower tempo without screaming that he was the older guy here.

“There are gay rodeo riders. Tons of them. I’ve dated a few.” Jay had heard so many sob stories from new strippers that he’d turned a little jaded. Maybe he wanted to find fault with Robbie as an excuse to deny the attraction.

“I guess his family had money, and it was all wrapped up in their show or whatever. So he was out with nothing. He’s hot and can move, though. Bev can pick them.” Ken looked at Jay in the mirror. “You’re really not interested?”

“No, I’m not taking a new guy in and making it easy on him. As soon as he gets his footing, he’d dump me for someone else. Those types always want a nice guy to save them and then run off with a bad boy who’ll hurt them. I’m not into rebound relationships or dealing with someone else’s drama.” Jay didn’t have to spell it out for Ken. Some of the men in the profession were complete users and anyone would do. “Of course, he’s good, Bev doesn’t hire crap dancers.”

Jay made it through his rough years because Bev and one of his Aunt’s up in Reno had looked out for him. Bev had no reason to help thus she had his eternal loyalty and respect. A former Vegas showgirl who’d gone topless on stage and did all sorts of things in hotel rooms, Bev understood the tricks of survival and strength. Now pushing sixty, she helped young men without judging and used her experience to put on a show she swore would run forever!

“Don’t get bitter. You’re not even thirty. Romantics.” Ken chuckled.

“I’ve been called a lot of things, but that isn’t one of them.” Jay listened for the music. Shit! He suddenly realized he’d been waiting for Robbie to hustle his nearly naked body back here.

“You are. Sure, you hook up with guys. Date. But the second a relationship goes south or something bad happens, you bail. You want the perfect Happy Ending. Maybe this Robbie is the one?” Ken brushed off his jacket.

Chuckling, Jay ignored a tug of need in his gut. He wanted more than sex, but that wasn’t the world he lived in. “He’s the competition not the boyfriend. You should worry about finding yourself a man to settle down with. You’re old enough to have fathered some of these guys.”

“If I ever screwed a girl, may rattlesnakes strike my dick. Why would I want to settle down?” Ken stood and headed to the stage as the announcer took over.

Jay smiled but didn’t believe for a second Ken liked being alone. Neither of them had ever been with a woman, but it didn’t change the fact that age happened to everyone. In the end, no one really wanted to be alone. He wanted to see Ken find the right guy. It’d give Jay hope. Just then, Robbie strutted back, his tight g-string filled with money. All Jay saw were Robbie’s firm buns.

Publiber's Link

All Romance eBooks

Amazon

B&N

Book 2 in the series (Hot New Boss) just released 3/13/13, so check it out!!!

My God It's Monday

Like clockwork, it's Monday again!

Torquere Press has a 20% coupon on at the moment stpat2013 gets you 20% off until Tuesday at midnight.

Today I'm guest blogging over at Lucy Felthouse's blog.

Tomorrow I'm at the Rainbow Studio Blog.

Treat, a Hammer story comes out on Wednesday!



Really on just on their feet again after their sub Peter died of cancer, Treat and Killian are thrown for a loop when Killian is kidnapped by a madman's brother. Shot during the rescue, Killian is injured, both physically and mentally.

Can Treat find a way to heal the new scars on Killian's psyche, or will this latest incident be the final straw?


Treat put the dishes in the dishwasher and puttered in the kitchen, trying hard not to think. Trying not to think about Killian being taken off the street, being at the mercy of those animals, and hurting. Trying not to think about the broken cheekbone, the bruised ribs and sprained ankle. Trying not to think about how his lover had been shot.

Killian was home now. Home. Safe. Healing.

Treat had never been so scared as when Killian had been taken, and in the hospital. Never. Scared and then angry. Neither were feelings he wished to dwell on or re-live.

Killian didn't seem to want to talk about it. In fact, Killian didn't talk much at all. Killian just wanted to heal, which Treat supposed was a good thing. He needed to be there for his lover, though. Even if Killi did want to talk about it, to re-live it.

He sighed and put the cloth away before heading out of the kitchen to find his lover. The living room was dark, empty, so was the office. He made for the bedroom, finding the light shining under the closed bathroom door.

He went in, putting a smile on his face; Killian didn't need his worries on top of everything else. "Hey, lover. Dishes all washed up."

"Hey." Killian was standing, looking at himself in the mirror, the lean body wrapped in bandages, face brutally bruised.

Treat's chest clenched and his breath caught for a moment. He forced himself to breathe and moved closer. "Hey. Maybe we've found your costume for Halloween."

"What's that? Kidnapped tattoo artist or escaped mental patient?"

He put his hands on Killian's shoulders. "I was thinking more Egyptian mummy."

"Maybe. I'm thinking about shaving my head."

He stared. His Killian? His Killian with the long, silky hair? His Killian shaving himself bald? The words hardly made sense to him.

"What?" He shook his head, fingers carding through the long locks. Soft, lovely -- Treat couldn't imagine Killian bare.

"I just... something new. Something easier. Something so that I'll be ugly."

"You couldn't be ugly if you tried, love. Why would you want to try?" Treat met Killian's eyes in the mirror. They were dark, hooded.

Killian shrugged. "I don't know. I'm going to bed. I'm tired."

It was like their dear sub Peter had just died from cancer again. God damn those bastards, hurting his lover. Breaking down in a few hours what had taken years to rebuild.


Tomorrow Cheryl Dragon is my guest for Author Spotlight Tuesday!

St-Patrick's Day Snippet #3

Jarheads this time!

Their local bar always had green beer on St. Paddy's day.

Fucking green beer.

Rock could never decide if it was funny or gross. It tasted the same, but it sure as shit looked wrong. Kind of like what it would be like if Rig shaved his head.

Rig didn't seem to give a shit, though, the man drinking deep, laughing with the bartender.

There was going to be trivia later, apparently, and a prize for the best leprechaun contest. Speaking of leprechauns... They'd talked the kid into taking part this year and Rock scanned the crowd, couldn't find Dick anywhere.

He slid his hand over Rig's thigh, getting his rabbit's attention. "Where's the kid?"

"Getting his hair sprayed green by Jack and Greg."

"Seriously?" They'd promised the kid a blow job from Rig while he fucked Dick good and hard, but that was really going all out.

"The prize is four days in Carmel. He wants it."

"Shit, I thought it was a few rounds or something." Damn, they could have fun in Carmel.

"Someone has a place and they donated it for a long weekend." Rig winked. "If he doesn't win, we know what he wants bad enough to spray-paint his hair and wear pantyhose."

"He's wearing pantyhose? Oh, fuck, this I have to see." God, when Dick did something, he really jumped in with both feet. The kid always had.

"You know it." Rig chuckled, leaned against him. "Our little green man."

Rock snorted. "I think he might object to being called little."

"Tiny."

His laughter was cut off by his mouth dropping open as Dick came in, green hair, green beard, skin tight green hose, tight t-shirt with a little green jacket lined with white fluffy stuff. The kid looked... fucking edible.

"Okay, that's adorable." Rig was hooting.

"If he doesn't win first prize, this thing is fixed."

Dick caught site of them and rolled his eyes, coming to where he and Rig were. "All right, get it all out of your system now."

"Oh, pretty. You are the hottest leprechaun ever."

Dick beamed at Rig, and Rock nodded. "What he said. How long before we can go home?"

Dick gave him a surprised look. "You not feeling well?"

"Nope. I've got a swelling." He waggled his eyebrows.

Rig rolled his eyes. "Let Dick win his prize and then we'll go. Maybe."

He pouted, but Dick and Rig were ignoring him.

Then Dick turned, giving him an amazing view of that great ass in those tights. He could live with the view.

Now he just had to figure out how to convince Rig to join Dick in the contest next year.

St-Patrick's Day Snippet #2

Featuring Oliver and Jack from the Hammer Club

Jack all but bounced into the Hammer Club, grinning at the cloverleaf garlands, the rainbows everywhere with their pots of gold. It was silly, he knew, but he loved St-Patrick's day inordinately. He was pretty sure they put the party on just for him, but he didn't care. It made him damn happy.

He beamed at Xavier, who was pouring out green beer for someone. Yes! He'd been begging for the green beer for years.

Last year Xavier had given in and only sold green cocktails, this year beer. Xavier loved him. Or loved Oliver anyway.

Speaking of Oliver.... he looked around for his master, hoping Oliver had remembered to wear something green.

His Master was sitting in their customary seat, a...

A huge.

Huge.

Green.

Fuzzy.

Feathered.

Wow.

That was the best top hat ever.

Jack laughed, absolutely delighted.

"Master!"

He went right over, smiling hugely. "Oh, Master, that's the best thing I've ever seen."

"Thank you, my boy. I had them specially made." Another hat was sat upon the table. "For us."

"Oh!" He leaned in beneath the lip of his master's hat, kissed him a thank you, and then put the extra hat on top of his head.

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful, as always."

"Thank you, master." He felt like the most special man in the room and that, as always, came down to his master.

"Happy Saint Patrick's Day, my boy." Oliver's hand landed on his thigh, solid and warm.

"Happy Saint Patrick's Day to you too." He grinned. "Are we going to have green beer?"

"I am not. That is atrocious. I am drinking whiskey."

He giggled and slid his hand into his master's lap.

God, he loved Saint-Patrick's Day beyond all reason. Lucky for him his master indulged him. He wanted to return the favor.

Giggling again at the thought of this hat bobbing, he slid to his knees between Master Oliver's legs.

St-Patrick's Day Snippet #1

Featuring Drake and Slayde from Mannies Incorporated.

"Drake, the kids need you to help them decorate cookies." Slayde hollered the words as he headed for the medicine cabinets. He'd burned the hell out of his thumb taking the cookie sheet out.

"You do remember what the last batch of cookies I helped decorate came out, right?"

"Yep. Go. Did you move the Bactine?"

Drake came into sight and frowned. "Why do you need Bactine?"

"I burned my fucking hand." And there was already a blister.

Drake carefully took his hand and examined it. "That looks painful. Are you sure just the Bactine will be enough?"

"I hope so. I almost cursed at the kids."

"I wish you had. What? I'm tired of being the only one around here doing push-ups." Drake gave him a wink and started searching through the medicine cabinet.

"I don't want to push up with...Ow!" The spray stung like fire and then the pain eased.

"That should stop hurting in a second." Drake kissed the side of his mouth.

"Thank you." He turned his face, took a kiss. "Promise me tonight there will be beer and wild sex."

"I don't know. You're kind of on the injured list." Drake gave him yet another kiss.

"Don't make me pout. I will pout." He waited a second. "Mightily."

Drake grinned and grabbed his lower lip wit his own, tugging it out a little. "Did you get the green Twinkies made before you hurt yourself?"

"Like I would make you Twinkies..." Of course he had. They were horrific.

"You would. My pout is scarier than yours." Drake wasn't pouting, though; he was trying hard not to laugh. Then Drake pressed their mouths together, stifling his laughter on Slayde's mouth.

"Butthead." Slayde chuckled. "Come help me with the cookies, lover?"

"Yeah, I can wrangle crazy green cookies while you nurse your burn." Drake took his hand and kissed next to the blister. "There, I kissed it better."

Before he could say anything, shouts of "Unca Slayde! Unca Slayde!" filled the air.

"Their majesties call," teased Drake.

"I got them." Slayde loved living next door to them, having their family close. "Let's go, Uncle Cake."

Drake stuck his tongue out at the name, just like he always did.

Slayde got one more kiss from Drake and then they went to decorate shamrocks and pots of gold with their nieces and nephew.

Thursday Three

Today I am over at the Romance for the Rest of Us blog.
Tomorrow through Sunday, I am over at the TRS St. Paddy's Day party.
Eternity and Masks Off Too! came out yesterday
Masks Off Too!

Masquerade Balls and Vampires go hand in hand in these stories that combine mystery, love, and biting!

Sean Michael gives us Eternity: Is it really possible to die of ennui? Lukas is determined to find out. In Fool Me Twice by Missouri Dalton, botany professor Edmund Toussaint is a vampire who prefers alligator blood and keeps to himself. Up next is Sam Schooler's Scented: Ben Halloway: human, detective, so done with this serial killer vampire shit. Felix Whit: vampire, criminal psychologist, way too attractive. Ben's life is just fantastic.

Anne Hedley explores Perfection, where August is flawed in a world that values flawlessness. While Laylah Hunter goes an alternative route with Cultural Hospitality: Reluctant vampire Caram has sworn off dating, but planning a space-station-wide festival with his handsome alien co-worker is testing his resolve. In The Other Side of Midnight by G.O. Noce, Ash only wants revenge against the man who betrayed him two centuries ago, but when Gavin reappears, revenge isn't what’s on his mind.

In Passions Unmasked by Jade Astor, James is thrilled when a hot guy invites him to a party unlike any other he’s attended. And finally, Julia Talbot and BA Tortuga team up to bring us Super Juicy: Sometimes you want a good meal, but sometimes you want something super juicy.

So take a bite out of love with Masks Off Too!

You can buy it here.

My story in the anthology is Eternity and it's available on it's own as well as in the anthology:



After four hundred years as an immortal, Lukas has become bored and is dying of ennui. He wills everything he owns to his creator Gustav, with whom he's had a three hundred years long falling out, and goes up onto the roof to meet the dawn.

Will he survive the sun? And if he does, can Gustav keep him from becoming bored again?

you can buy it here

Lukas and Gustav are both funny and hot!

There's a sample here, and a different one here.