Sean Michael's Blog, page 39
November 15, 2012
November 12, 2012
My God It's Monday
I am tired and cranky today, which is probably appropriate for a Monday. It is not, however, appropriate for sharing, so I'm going to go and take my bad mood out on some characters -- cue evil laughter here
Torquere has 20% off today -- vetday2012 is the code and it's good until midnight tonight
I hope everyone else is having a sunny day
Torquere has 20% off today -- vetday2012 is the code and it's good until midnight tonight
I hope everyone else is having a sunny day
November 9, 2012
Fiction Friday
Club Fantasy - Chapter 36
Michael put the music on full blast, the Christmas carols ringing out through the room. The whole place was decorated. There was a tree that reached all the way to the ceiling, tinsel and cards everywhere, along with little knickknacks and odd bits of Christmas detritus all over the place.
There was even a Christmas village on the dinning room table, complete with a little working train going around and around.
The tree sported a massive stack of presents and the windows had fake snow painted on them, so if you didn't actually look out you'd believe it was a winter wonderland out there.
All of it was Seth's work -- the decorations seemed to get more elaborate every year, their home looking like Santa's sled had backed up and taken a dump.
For a demon, his lover was awfully fond of Christmas.
Michael's contribution to the day was the crackling fire and the Christmas feast laid out on the coffee table. He'd had a choice -- take the village and train off the dining room table, eat off the floor, or use the coffee table as a kind of filling station for Christmassy finger foods that he and Seth could feed each other. He'd decided the later sounded like the most fun.
All he needed now was his demon lover.
A glance at his watch showed it was eleven fifteen. Really, Seth ought to have been along already; someone must be playing hard to get rid of. The rules were clear, though. They were closed for one day of the year and that was Christmas. So from eleven p.m. on Christmas Eve until about noon on Boxing Day, they were free, beholden to no one.
We Three Kings began to play and Michael poured himself an egg nog -- or rather an egg nog flavoured rum -- and began to sing along at the top of his lungs.
Seth's chuckle was soft, warm, husky. "Merry merry. Is there some for me?"
"Love!" Michael laughed and grabbed Seth's egg nog flavored rum off the coffee table. "Finally."
"Got everything closed." Seth's horns were barely visible.
"Good. So now you can put all your attention where it deserves to be." He handed over the drink, making sure their fingers slid together.
"More decorations?"
He thumped Seth's arm. "Try again."
"Uh..." Those eyes twinkled. "Wrapping presents?"
"Don't make me beat you black and blue."
"I'd love to see you try."
Michael snorted. "Maybe. But not on our only day off, yeah?"
"No, beloved. Not on our only day off." Seth smiled at him, then tilted his chin and offered him a kiss that was pure, unadulterated adoration.
He sank into it, nearly losing his egg noggy rum in the process. Frankly, he didn't care. Seth groaned, began to rock them, sure and steady. Michael held onto their drinks, letting Seth support them, move them. Seth's prick filled, swelling, growing warm against him.
"Oh, feel that." He humped against Seth.
"I do." Seth's nails scraped down his spine.
It had him arching, bucking into Seth's body. The drinks he had tilted and spilled, and he laughed breathlessly.
"Messy, messy." Seth licked at his lips.
"You're worth it." He very deliberately dropped the glasses, the thick rug keeping them from breaking.
Seth chuckled, bit his lip. He wrapped his arms around his lover, reaching with one hand to rub the little horns on his lover's head. Seth's growl vibrated his lips, dark and deep and low.
"I have a Christmas feast." It was all cold food.
"You are a feast." Those horns pushed up into his hands.
"For you." From top to bottom. He'd never belonged to anyone the way he belonged to Seth.
"Yes." Seth backed him toward the sofa, cock nudging his hip.
"I'm ready for you," he murmured, pushing himself against his very own devil.
"Good." Claws slid down his slacks, splitting them. "Lose the shirt, beloved."
Michael didn't need to be told twice. He liked this shirt. Still, he might have lost a button or two as he yanked it off. "You, too."
His shoulder blades were tapped. "Wings."
Laughing, he spread out his wings, flapping them for his lover the way a human might flex. Seth's moan was amazing, those clawed fingers reaching to touch, so gently, so carefully.
"You only love me for my wings." It was a gentle tease, though. He knew the wings were just a bonus for Seth, something rare and special to the demon. His romantic devil.
"I would love you even if you were human." The words were soft, heartfelt.
"I know." He brought their mouths back together again, kissing Seth eagerly. No one knew how to love like his demon.
Those tender fingers stroked his wings, gentle and sweet, dragging through his feathers. He shivered, the movement going all along his wings like a wave.
"Beloved." Seth tugged at his bottom lip.
"My own." He slid his leg around the back of Seth's thighs, bringing their cocks together.
"Yes." He loved that satisfied sound.
He rubbed his hands over Seth's body, fingers going almost without thought to the sexy tail. Trapped in the slacks, it flailed and shifted.
He did like a chance to give as good as he got. Michael took the trousers in both hands and ripped them apart. Seth growled softly, their bodies slamming together. He used his wings to steady them, keep them from barreling over as their bodies moved into each other.
That tail wrapped around his wrist, slapped his arm. Groaning, he grabbed for it. It slid out of his reach, Seth chuckling into their kiss. He bit on the tips of Seth's forked tongue and made another grab at the wicked tail. His fingers wrapped around it, the soft, slick skin delicious.
He squeezed gently, and then tugged. Seth's fingers stroked his feathers in response.
He shivered and pushed closer, rubbing their cocks together. "So good, lover."
"Yes. Want." Seth bucked against him.
"Uh-huh." He nodded. "Want you inside me." He yanked on Seth's tail. He'd have it. That way they could keep rubbing.
"Anything."
"I'm ready for you. Slicked myself up."
"Take me in, beloved. My hands are busy." That was true, his wings fluttered and ached with how busy Seth's hands were.
He brought Seth's tail around to his hole, guiding it. Seth's breath went faster, sharper. He pressed the tip in and then rocked back, taking more in. "Deeper," he demanded, rocking between Seth's tail and his cock.
"Fuck." Seth's eyes flashed, the scent of brimstone sharp on the air.
Crying out, he pressed closer to Seth as that flexible tail pushed in deeper and tapped his gland. "More," he demanded. "More, more, more." He wanted Set to make it so good he passed out.
"Demanding beast." Seth groaned, pushed deeper.
"Uh-huh." His agreement came out as more of a squeak and he rubbed harder, his hands holding on tight to Seth's ass.
That tail pegged his gland over and over and over. He began to chant his lover's name, his body jerking and rubbing against Seth.
"I need to smell you." Seth was growling and rumbling, groaning for him.
"Seth..." Moaning, he sawed harder, wanting nothing more than to come for Seth, to offer his lover his pleasure.
"Beloved." Heat surrounded him.
"Seth!" He jerked, heat spraying from him, his body squeezing down tight around Seth's tail.
"Yes..." Seth's body jerked against him.
He reached down quickly, wrapping his hand around Seth's cock, milking it.
"More. More, Beloved." Those horns cast a shadow over his face, the tail wriggling inside him.
Moaning, still hard himself, he slid and twisted his hand. It didn't take long before Seth was crying out for him, arching into his touch.
"Give it to me, Seth. I want to taste you." He loved the earthy, smoky flavor of Seth's spunk.
As if his words called the orgasm, Seth came for him, eyes burning like coals.
Michael shuddered. That smell did it for him down deep. It meant pleasure and Seth and that things were good. He brought his hand up, watching Seth as he slowly licked his fingers clean. Seth's eyes burned for him.
Michael pressed their mouths together, sharing the taste of Seth's come with Seth himself. Seth made his ears ring.
"I hear bells," he murmured into Seth's mouth, that wriggling tail making him shiver.
Seth chuckled. "You already have your wings."
Laughing, he wrapped his arms around Seth and held on. "Merry Christmas, my wonderful devil."
"Merry Christmas, Beloved one."
Given who he was spending it with, Michael didn't see how it could be anything but Merry.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
Michael put the music on full blast, the Christmas carols ringing out through the room. The whole place was decorated. There was a tree that reached all the way to the ceiling, tinsel and cards everywhere, along with little knickknacks and odd bits of Christmas detritus all over the place.
There was even a Christmas village on the dinning room table, complete with a little working train going around and around.
The tree sported a massive stack of presents and the windows had fake snow painted on them, so if you didn't actually look out you'd believe it was a winter wonderland out there.
All of it was Seth's work -- the decorations seemed to get more elaborate every year, their home looking like Santa's sled had backed up and taken a dump.
For a demon, his lover was awfully fond of Christmas.
Michael's contribution to the day was the crackling fire and the Christmas feast laid out on the coffee table. He'd had a choice -- take the village and train off the dining room table, eat off the floor, or use the coffee table as a kind of filling station for Christmassy finger foods that he and Seth could feed each other. He'd decided the later sounded like the most fun.
All he needed now was his demon lover.
A glance at his watch showed it was eleven fifteen. Really, Seth ought to have been along already; someone must be playing hard to get rid of. The rules were clear, though. They were closed for one day of the year and that was Christmas. So from eleven p.m. on Christmas Eve until about noon on Boxing Day, they were free, beholden to no one.
We Three Kings began to play and Michael poured himself an egg nog -- or rather an egg nog flavoured rum -- and began to sing along at the top of his lungs.
Seth's chuckle was soft, warm, husky. "Merry merry. Is there some for me?"
"Love!" Michael laughed and grabbed Seth's egg nog flavored rum off the coffee table. "Finally."
"Got everything closed." Seth's horns were barely visible.
"Good. So now you can put all your attention where it deserves to be." He handed over the drink, making sure their fingers slid together.
"More decorations?"
He thumped Seth's arm. "Try again."
"Uh..." Those eyes twinkled. "Wrapping presents?"
"Don't make me beat you black and blue."
"I'd love to see you try."
Michael snorted. "Maybe. But not on our only day off, yeah?"
"No, beloved. Not on our only day off." Seth smiled at him, then tilted his chin and offered him a kiss that was pure, unadulterated adoration.
He sank into it, nearly losing his egg noggy rum in the process. Frankly, he didn't care. Seth groaned, began to rock them, sure and steady. Michael held onto their drinks, letting Seth support them, move them. Seth's prick filled, swelling, growing warm against him.
"Oh, feel that." He humped against Seth.
"I do." Seth's nails scraped down his spine.
It had him arching, bucking into Seth's body. The drinks he had tilted and spilled, and he laughed breathlessly.
"Messy, messy." Seth licked at his lips.
"You're worth it." He very deliberately dropped the glasses, the thick rug keeping them from breaking.
Seth chuckled, bit his lip. He wrapped his arms around his lover, reaching with one hand to rub the little horns on his lover's head. Seth's growl vibrated his lips, dark and deep and low.
"I have a Christmas feast." It was all cold food.
"You are a feast." Those horns pushed up into his hands.
"For you." From top to bottom. He'd never belonged to anyone the way he belonged to Seth.
"Yes." Seth backed him toward the sofa, cock nudging his hip.
"I'm ready for you," he murmured, pushing himself against his very own devil.
"Good." Claws slid down his slacks, splitting them. "Lose the shirt, beloved."
Michael didn't need to be told twice. He liked this shirt. Still, he might have lost a button or two as he yanked it off. "You, too."
His shoulder blades were tapped. "Wings."
Laughing, he spread out his wings, flapping them for his lover the way a human might flex. Seth's moan was amazing, those clawed fingers reaching to touch, so gently, so carefully.
"You only love me for my wings." It was a gentle tease, though. He knew the wings were just a bonus for Seth, something rare and special to the demon. His romantic devil.
"I would love you even if you were human." The words were soft, heartfelt.
"I know." He brought their mouths back together again, kissing Seth eagerly. No one knew how to love like his demon.
Those tender fingers stroked his wings, gentle and sweet, dragging through his feathers. He shivered, the movement going all along his wings like a wave.
"Beloved." Seth tugged at his bottom lip.
"My own." He slid his leg around the back of Seth's thighs, bringing their cocks together.
"Yes." He loved that satisfied sound.
He rubbed his hands over Seth's body, fingers going almost without thought to the sexy tail. Trapped in the slacks, it flailed and shifted.
He did like a chance to give as good as he got. Michael took the trousers in both hands and ripped them apart. Seth growled softly, their bodies slamming together. He used his wings to steady them, keep them from barreling over as their bodies moved into each other.
That tail wrapped around his wrist, slapped his arm. Groaning, he grabbed for it. It slid out of his reach, Seth chuckling into their kiss. He bit on the tips of Seth's forked tongue and made another grab at the wicked tail. His fingers wrapped around it, the soft, slick skin delicious.
He squeezed gently, and then tugged. Seth's fingers stroked his feathers in response.
He shivered and pushed closer, rubbing their cocks together. "So good, lover."
"Yes. Want." Seth bucked against him.
"Uh-huh." He nodded. "Want you inside me." He yanked on Seth's tail. He'd have it. That way they could keep rubbing.
"Anything."
"I'm ready for you. Slicked myself up."
"Take me in, beloved. My hands are busy." That was true, his wings fluttered and ached with how busy Seth's hands were.
He brought Seth's tail around to his hole, guiding it. Seth's breath went faster, sharper. He pressed the tip in and then rocked back, taking more in. "Deeper," he demanded, rocking between Seth's tail and his cock.
"Fuck." Seth's eyes flashed, the scent of brimstone sharp on the air.
Crying out, he pressed closer to Seth as that flexible tail pushed in deeper and tapped his gland. "More," he demanded. "More, more, more." He wanted Set to make it so good he passed out.
"Demanding beast." Seth groaned, pushed deeper.
"Uh-huh." His agreement came out as more of a squeak and he rubbed harder, his hands holding on tight to Seth's ass.
That tail pegged his gland over and over and over. He began to chant his lover's name, his body jerking and rubbing against Seth.
"I need to smell you." Seth was growling and rumbling, groaning for him.
"Seth..." Moaning, he sawed harder, wanting nothing more than to come for Seth, to offer his lover his pleasure.
"Beloved." Heat surrounded him.
"Seth!" He jerked, heat spraying from him, his body squeezing down tight around Seth's tail.
"Yes..." Seth's body jerked against him.
He reached down quickly, wrapping his hand around Seth's cock, milking it.
"More. More, Beloved." Those horns cast a shadow over his face, the tail wriggling inside him.
Moaning, still hard himself, he slid and twisted his hand. It didn't take long before Seth was crying out for him, arching into his touch.
"Give it to me, Seth. I want to taste you." He loved the earthy, smoky flavor of Seth's spunk.
As if his words called the orgasm, Seth came for him, eyes burning like coals.
Michael shuddered. That smell did it for him down deep. It meant pleasure and Seth and that things were good. He brought his hand up, watching Seth as he slowly licked his fingers clean. Seth's eyes burned for him.
Michael pressed their mouths together, sharing the taste of Seth's come with Seth himself. Seth made his ears ring.
"I hear bells," he murmured into Seth's mouth, that wriggling tail making him shiver.
Seth chuckled. "You already have your wings."
Laughing, he wrapped his arms around Seth and held on. "Merry Christmas, my wonderful devil."
"Merry Christmas, Beloved one."
Given who he was spending it with, Michael didn't see how it could be anything but Merry.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
Random Friday
Did you know my old Jarheads Charity Sips are now available as free reads on All Romance Ebooks? Well, they are.
Ding Dong Bell
Homecoming
Mentor
Old Ghosts
Speaking of Charity Sips -- have you gone on the Charity Sip Blog Hop? Leave a comment on my post for a chance to win and then check out the other participants!
Fiction Friday to come a little later :)
Ding Dong Bell
Homecoming
Mentor
Old Ghosts
Speaking of Charity Sips -- have you gone on the Charity Sip Blog Hop? Leave a comment on my post for a chance to win and then check out the other participants!
Fiction Friday to come a little later :)
November 8, 2012
Charity Sip Blog Hop!
I'm participating in the Charity Sip Blog Hop. 
The theme of the hop is Leather and Love: How Romance Helps Stamp Out Hate.
I think just the existence of romance helps stamp out hate -- the more love there is out there, the more it generates. Even if a romance book brings hope and good feelings to one person out there, it's done something. Have you ever smiled as you passed someone in the street, even if you weren't feeling like smiling in the first place? I have, and it always lifts my mood just a little, even more if the person smiles back. I like to think having a romance with a happy ending out there has the same effect.
It doesn't matter whether the progtagonists are m/f, m/m, f/f, m/m/f or any variation or number, if there is love, it helps stamp out hate.
This year's Torquere Press Charity Sip Blitz benefits NOH8 and there's a ton of good stories there to choose from, or you can grab them all.
Mine is Taking Inventory, a Hammer story.
Marcus is getting ready for a leather convention and Jim is helping his Master take inventory. There's nothing better than the smell of leather and his Master nearby, and Jim is happy as a clam. Happy enough that even Marcus pushing can only bring joy.
Marcus and Jim first appear in the Hammer novel Bent.
You can pick mine up here, the entire collection here, or just browse what's available here.
For the blog hop, I'm running a contest. Just leave a comment here before the morning of November 12, and I'll pick a winner at some point on the 12th. The prize is a $10 gift certificate from Torquere Press.
Don't forget to go to the Romance for the Rest of Us blog to check out the other authors participating in the hop and for a chance to win the Torquere grand prize of a $50 gift ceritificate.
"I have a lot of floggers to sell this year. My focus has been on them lately. For some reason..." Marcus gave him a wink.
Jim grinned. "We'll have to display them well. Yours are the best."
"Sweet-talker."
"No. No, that's just the truth." He could sweet-talk about stuff, but Marcus' leather work was stunning.
Marcus came over to where he was sitting and tilted his head up, kissed him hard. "Thank you, baby."
Oh. The world went a little sparkly and he pushed up onto his knees, stealing another of those kisses, still so in love with this man that it ached.
Marcus' fingers were hard against his scalp, the next kiss going deeper. The pen fell from his fingers and he arched, his chest rubbing against Marcus' shirt. Marcus moaned and ran one hand down his braid, tugging at the bottom to tilt his head back even farther. The sting made him moan, made his cock jerk and fill in his jeans.
He could feel the heat of his master's need rising against his chest, another sound filling him as Marcus continued to plunder his mouth. His ass clenched, working the plug that filled him, the well-spanked skin still beautifully sensitive from their morning games.
Marcus went to his knees, too, the kiss morphing as they were suddenly on the same level.
"Master." He pressed close, luxuriating in the heat, the strength they shared together.
Marcus' hands dropped along his back, heading for his ass, and then wrapping around both cheeks, squeezing. The touch made him grunt, rock back, body eager for more. Marcus moved into him, their denim covered pricks rubbing. The scent of leather all around them just made everything better, made the air smell like sex.
"Fucking want you, baby."
"Want." He nodded, groaned, pushed closer.
"Right here. On the floor." Marcus leaned him back, nipping at his lips.
"Your inventory." He landed back on the floor and it didn't matter, all that mattered was Marcus.
"We're field testing it." Marcus nipped at his neck, and then wrapped hot lips around his throat, sucking.
He tugged at Marcus' shirt, chin lifted, body rippling. Marcus moaned around his skin, fingers moving to undo buttons and held him bare his master's form. His pierced nipples rubbed along Marcus' skin, sliding.
Marcus' fingers blindly traced his tattoos, following the ink on his skin by memory. The sun, the tiger, the wildly colored peacock -- they were all touched, adored. Licking from the mark on his neck up to his mouth, Marcus' lips finding his for another kiss. He pushed into the kiss, into the need.
They rolled, knocking into a shelf and a basket turned over them, leather scraps falling over them, blanketing them in the smell.
Jim gasped, bucked. "Master, please!"
The theme of the hop is Leather and Love: How Romance Helps Stamp Out Hate.
I think just the existence of romance helps stamp out hate -- the more love there is out there, the more it generates. Even if a romance book brings hope and good feelings to one person out there, it's done something. Have you ever smiled as you passed someone in the street, even if you weren't feeling like smiling in the first place? I have, and it always lifts my mood just a little, even more if the person smiles back. I like to think having a romance with a happy ending out there has the same effect.
It doesn't matter whether the progtagonists are m/f, m/m, f/f, m/m/f or any variation or number, if there is love, it helps stamp out hate.
This year's Torquere Press Charity Sip Blitz benefits NOH8 and there's a ton of good stories there to choose from, or you can grab them all.
Mine is Taking Inventory, a Hammer story.
Marcus is getting ready for a leather convention and Jim is helping his Master take inventory. There's nothing better than the smell of leather and his Master nearby, and Jim is happy as a clam. Happy enough that even Marcus pushing can only bring joy.
Marcus and Jim first appear in the Hammer novel Bent.
You can pick mine up here, the entire collection here, or just browse what's available here.
For the blog hop, I'm running a contest. Just leave a comment here before the morning of November 12, and I'll pick a winner at some point on the 12th. The prize is a $10 gift certificate from Torquere Press.
Don't forget to go to the Romance for the Rest of Us blog to check out the other authors participating in the hop and for a chance to win the Torquere grand prize of a $50 gift ceritificate.
"I have a lot of floggers to sell this year. My focus has been on them lately. For some reason..." Marcus gave him a wink.
Jim grinned. "We'll have to display them well. Yours are the best."
"Sweet-talker."
"No. No, that's just the truth." He could sweet-talk about stuff, but Marcus' leather work was stunning.
Marcus came over to where he was sitting and tilted his head up, kissed him hard. "Thank you, baby."
Oh. The world went a little sparkly and he pushed up onto his knees, stealing another of those kisses, still so in love with this man that it ached.
Marcus' fingers were hard against his scalp, the next kiss going deeper. The pen fell from his fingers and he arched, his chest rubbing against Marcus' shirt. Marcus moaned and ran one hand down his braid, tugging at the bottom to tilt his head back even farther. The sting made him moan, made his cock jerk and fill in his jeans.
He could feel the heat of his master's need rising against his chest, another sound filling him as Marcus continued to plunder his mouth. His ass clenched, working the plug that filled him, the well-spanked skin still beautifully sensitive from their morning games.
Marcus went to his knees, too, the kiss morphing as they were suddenly on the same level.
"Master." He pressed close, luxuriating in the heat, the strength they shared together.
Marcus' hands dropped along his back, heading for his ass, and then wrapping around both cheeks, squeezing. The touch made him grunt, rock back, body eager for more. Marcus moved into him, their denim covered pricks rubbing. The scent of leather all around them just made everything better, made the air smell like sex.
"Fucking want you, baby."
"Want." He nodded, groaned, pushed closer.
"Right here. On the floor." Marcus leaned him back, nipping at his lips.
"Your inventory." He landed back on the floor and it didn't matter, all that mattered was Marcus.
"We're field testing it." Marcus nipped at his neck, and then wrapped hot lips around his throat, sucking.
He tugged at Marcus' shirt, chin lifted, body rippling. Marcus moaned around his skin, fingers moving to undo buttons and held him bare his master's form. His pierced nipples rubbed along Marcus' skin, sliding.
Marcus' fingers blindly traced his tattoos, following the ink on his skin by memory. The sun, the tiger, the wildly colored peacock -- they were all touched, adored. Licking from the mark on his neck up to his mouth, Marcus' lips finding his for another kiss. He pushed into the kiss, into the need.
They rolled, knocking into a shelf and a basket turned over them, leather scraps falling over them, blanketing them in the smell.
Jim gasped, bucked. "Master, please!"
Blogging at Romance for the Rest of Us.
I'm blogging over on Romance for the Rest of Us today.
Thursday Three
Changeling Press is having an event to help those in need in the aftermath of Sandy:
Aftermath 2012 -- When we see an emergency, we want to help. We know many of our readers want to do something to help, as well.
For the month of November, any order placed at Changeling with the code Aftermath2012 will receive a 5% discount on your total order, and a matching 5% will go toward National Emergency Relief Efforts.
Thank you for making the choice to help us help others.
I'm pondering doing another Smutty Advent throughout the month of December. Holiday themed snippets, contests, recipes. And I might just be pondering it early enough to actually get it done... I will take character/book requests for the snippets, but I can't guarantee snippets will appear to match them all - still, I will try.
I got my cover for Box of Nails: This Old House!
Devon used to be a server at the Hammer Club, but that was before he inherited a lot of money from his grandmother and decided to buy a big old house and convert it into apartments for Hammer Club servers. It's hard to find decent, affordable housing and he wants to do something good for his fellow twinks. Unfortunately the house is in much worse repair than he knew when he bought it and he's slowly drowning under the weight of the demands from both the house, and the boys who live in it.
Enter Barney, the contractor Devon calls in for an emergency fix of the building's pipes. Barney's heard of the Hammer Club, in fact he's saving up for a membership, but it's going to take a while on a blue collar salary. He falls for Devon on the spot and can only hope the feeling is mutual.
Can they work together to find a way to keep Devon, and his old house, afloat?
This comes out on November 21 from Torquere Press.
November 7, 2012
Attitude on Wheels now out!
Carson arrives at the Velvet Glove in a wheelchair, full of anger and snarls, ready to take out his frustration on everyone around him. Harrison, the physiotherapist assigned to help him, is maddeningly Zen, even in the face of Carson’s worst tantrums. Carson takes to calling Harrison Pollyanna, but even that doesn't seem to faze the man. Harrison maintains that Carson just needs to turn all that passion toward getting better.
Something more than just healing is starting, though. Can Carson and Harrison see past their roles as therapist and patient and find what they need in each other?
Originally published on the Turn of the Screw serial service.
there's a sample here
you can buy it here
November 5, 2012
My God It's Monday
It snowed today. It was only for about three minutes and if I hadn't looked out the window when I did I would have missed it, but for a couple minutes there were great big flakes falling out of the sky. First snow of the season! Too cool.
Got my cover for my December 9 Amber Allure release Wallflowers. I adore the dog on this and love the way the color scheme flows from it.
Ryan Coulter is a sports science graduate, who's deep in the closet. Returning to his college town to be in a frat buddy's wedding, he discovers he still has feelings for his old college lover, Daniel James Delout. Too bad he's still in the closet and DJ most definitely is not, the main reason why they broke up in the first place. To complicate matters further, DJ is now blind, and is, somehow, almost maddeningly Zen about the blindness, Ryan, everything.
Can Ryan ignore his stronger than ever attraction to DJ and just get through the rehearsal, wedding and reception? Does he even want to? And what happens if he and DJ do reconnect? After all, he’s still in the closet, right?
In other news -- it's already into November, which means less than two months until the year is over. I'm still trying to figure out where the first few months of the year went, let alone the rest of the year. Of course, I have been writing up a storm, the characters so noisy in my head that I wish I had more time. So I guess that's where the year went... still, I'm so not ready for the holiday season!
Got my cover for my December 9 Amber Allure release Wallflowers. I adore the dog on this and love the way the color scheme flows from it.
Ryan Coulter is a sports science graduate, who's deep in the closet. Returning to his college town to be in a frat buddy's wedding, he discovers he still has feelings for his old college lover, Daniel James Delout. Too bad he's still in the closet and DJ most definitely is not, the main reason why they broke up in the first place. To complicate matters further, DJ is now blind, and is, somehow, almost maddeningly Zen about the blindness, Ryan, everything.
Can Ryan ignore his stronger than ever attraction to DJ and just get through the rehearsal, wedding and reception? Does he even want to? And what happens if he and DJ do reconnect? After all, he’s still in the closet, right?
In other news -- it's already into November, which means less than two months until the year is over. I'm still trying to figure out where the first few months of the year went, let alone the rest of the year. Of course, I have been writing up a storm, the characters so noisy in my head that I wish I had more time. So I guess that's where the year went... still, I'm so not ready for the holiday season!
November 1, 2012
November 1 already!
Just two months left until the year is over. That's kind of hard to believe, actually.
Coming out on Wednesday next week is Attitude on Wheels, a Velvet Glove story. This one ran on the Turn of the Screw serial service, but never came out in print or ebook. I'm glad it's finally getting its day because Carson and Harrison were such fun to write -- for some reason the growly ones always amuse me.
Carson arrives at the Velvet Glove, complete with wheel chair, anger and snarls, ready to take out his situation on everyone around him. Harrison, the physiotherapist assigned to help him, is maddeningly Zen, even in the face of Carson's worst tantrums. Carson takes to calling him Pollyanna, but even that doesn't seem to faze the man. Harrison maintains that Carson just needs to turn all that passion toward getting better.
Something more than just healing is starting. Can Carson and Harrison see past their roles as therapist and patient and find what they need for life in each other?
Look for it on November 7!
Coming out on Wednesday next week is Attitude on Wheels, a Velvet Glove story. This one ran on the Turn of the Screw serial service, but never came out in print or ebook. I'm glad it's finally getting its day because Carson and Harrison were such fun to write -- for some reason the growly ones always amuse me.
Carson arrives at the Velvet Glove, complete with wheel chair, anger and snarls, ready to take out his situation on everyone around him. Harrison, the physiotherapist assigned to help him, is maddeningly Zen, even in the face of Carson's worst tantrums. Carson takes to calling him Pollyanna, but even that doesn't seem to faze the man. Harrison maintains that Carson just needs to turn all that passion toward getting better.
Something more than just healing is starting. Can Carson and Harrison see past their roles as therapist and patient and find what they need for life in each other?
Look for it on November 7!
Sean Michael's Blog
- Sean Michael's profile
- 1203 followers
Sean Michael isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
