Sean Michael's Blog, page 54
March 21, 2012
Solitary is out!
My latest Hammer novel is out!
Greg's on a downward spiral. He broke his back a few years into a promising stunt career, then his master died shortly after they began living a BDSM lifestyle together. He's just lost. So lost, that he can't keep a Master for more than two weeks. So lost that he's been arrested several times and is this close to winding up in jail. So lost that Master Oliver doesn't know what to do with him anymore.
In desperation, Oliver calls on his friend Appleton who lives in isolation in Northern Canada. Ap enjoys working with subs, and has both the time and the inclination to work with a lost soul like Greg. Not to mention, there's no way to get into legal trouble or run away from Ap's house given its location. So, Ap takes Greg in, hoping to help Greg find his center and himself again.
Will Greg find what he needs with Ap? Or will he find so much more?
Find out in this latest addition to Sean Michael's Hammer Club series.
you can buy it here
there's an excerpt here
and there's a not work safe excerpt beneath the cut
Greg dared to lean in, lips on Ap's throat. Ap dropped his head back farther, giving Greg more access. Ap smelled so good, the flavor on his tongue salty and right.
"I do love your mouth, boy."
"Thank you." He nuzzled, nibbled Ap's skin.
Ap hummed for him, throat just barely vibrating beneath his lips. His eyes closed, the world tightening to the two them, the tub, the warmth. Ap's hand slid off his hip and began to move along his back, the touch light, awakening all his nerves. His cock nudged Ap's hip, sliding in the water.
"Mmm." Ap smiled, fingers drifting down to his ass.
"Do you like to fuck?"
"I do." Ap's words were all thick, growly. "It's just one of the things I want to do to you."
"Oh." He swallowed his moan. "I... It's like you're inside me already."
It was huge and tiny, all at once. This wasn't the whips and chains thing he'd come to expect -- but Ap had him.
A low moan sounded at his words, and Ap turned his head up, took his mouth in a deep, intense kiss that stole his breath. Greg found himself straddling Ap's waist, the water letting them rub together as he cried out into Ap's lips. One big hand landed on his ass, sliding over his skin. The burn from yesterday's spanking was mostly gone, but he could definitely feel that hand.
He nibbled on Ap's bottom lip, sucked it in. One finger slid along his crack, rubbing up and down. The touch was welcome -- wanted, even. He hadn't let anyone in, only toys, since Tim.
"Sensual, sexy boy." Ap muttered the words, tongue licking into his mouth.
He was caught in the pleasure, open to it, hungry for it. The finger at his crack found his hole and teased it, pushing against it, but not going in. His ass tightened, relaxed, tightened again. Ap's finger pushed in a little, just breaching him.
"I..." He rocked back, took Ap's finger in deeper.
"Wanton." That finger pushed in even deeper, the slight burn perfect. He blushed, catching himself before he nodded. Ap's lips slid along his jaw, back to his ear, and he barely caught the whispered, "My wanton boy."
He whimpered, lips fastening on Ap's throat. He thought maybe he could be someone's. He could.
Ap's finger pushed in all the way, the other fingers pressed up tight against his skin.
In him.
Ap was in him.
They rocked together, pushing fast and hard. Ap's free hand was on his ass, encouraging each movement.
Needed. He needed this. "Please."
Greg's on a downward spiral. He broke his back a few years into a promising stunt career, then his master died shortly after they began living a BDSM lifestyle together. He's just lost. So lost, that he can't keep a Master for more than two weeks. So lost that he's been arrested several times and is this close to winding up in jail. So lost that Master Oliver doesn't know what to do with him anymore.
In desperation, Oliver calls on his friend Appleton who lives in isolation in Northern Canada. Ap enjoys working with subs, and has both the time and the inclination to work with a lost soul like Greg. Not to mention, there's no way to get into legal trouble or run away from Ap's house given its location. So, Ap takes Greg in, hoping to help Greg find his center and himself again.
Will Greg find what he needs with Ap? Or will he find so much more?
Find out in this latest addition to Sean Michael's Hammer Club series.
you can buy it here
there's an excerpt here
and there's a not work safe excerpt beneath the cut
Greg dared to lean in, lips on Ap's throat. Ap dropped his head back farther, giving Greg more access. Ap smelled so good, the flavor on his tongue salty and right.
"I do love your mouth, boy."
"Thank you." He nuzzled, nibbled Ap's skin.
Ap hummed for him, throat just barely vibrating beneath his lips. His eyes closed, the world tightening to the two them, the tub, the warmth. Ap's hand slid off his hip and began to move along his back, the touch light, awakening all his nerves. His cock nudged Ap's hip, sliding in the water.
"Mmm." Ap smiled, fingers drifting down to his ass.
"Do you like to fuck?"
"I do." Ap's words were all thick, growly. "It's just one of the things I want to do to you."
"Oh." He swallowed his moan. "I... It's like you're inside me already."
It was huge and tiny, all at once. This wasn't the whips and chains thing he'd come to expect -- but Ap had him.
A low moan sounded at his words, and Ap turned his head up, took his mouth in a deep, intense kiss that stole his breath. Greg found himself straddling Ap's waist, the water letting them rub together as he cried out into Ap's lips. One big hand landed on his ass, sliding over his skin. The burn from yesterday's spanking was mostly gone, but he could definitely feel that hand.
He nibbled on Ap's bottom lip, sucked it in. One finger slid along his crack, rubbing up and down. The touch was welcome -- wanted, even. He hadn't let anyone in, only toys, since Tim.
"Sensual, sexy boy." Ap muttered the words, tongue licking into his mouth.
He was caught in the pleasure, open to it, hungry for it. The finger at his crack found his hole and teased it, pushing against it, but not going in. His ass tightened, relaxed, tightened again. Ap's finger pushed in a little, just breaching him.
"I..." He rocked back, took Ap's finger in deeper.
"Wanton." That finger pushed in even deeper, the slight burn perfect. He blushed, catching himself before he nodded. Ap's lips slid along his jaw, back to his ear, and he barely caught the whispered, "My wanton boy."
He whimpered, lips fastening on Ap's throat. He thought maybe he could be someone's. He could.
Ap's finger pushed in all the way, the other fingers pressed up tight against his skin.
In him.
Ap was in him.
They rocked together, pushing fast and hard. Ap's free hand was on his ass, encouraging each movement.
Needed. He needed this. "Please."
March 20, 2012
Two on Tuesday
Good grief, it's like the middle of summer out there! What happened to the end of winter? To spring?
Solitary, the next Hammer novel comes out tomorrow! (and Trust, Kerry and Bellamy's story comes out April 18!)
Solitary, the next Hammer novel comes out tomorrow! (and Trust, Kerry and Bellamy's story comes out April 18!)
March 17, 2012
Fiction Friday
Happy St-Patrick's Day!
Changeling Press has 10% off for St-Patrick's Day -- today only -- Shamrock12.
Torquere Press has 15% off through to Monday evening -- toosexy2012.
Club Fantasy - Chapter 10
Did he really care?
Hell, no. Enough of this pussyfooting around. Jon leaned over and tugged Pete in, their mouths crashing together.
One big hand landed on his thigh, squeezing. The other slid around behind his neck, holding him in place as Pete took the kiss deeper, tongue opening his mouth and sweeping in.
His thighs opened like a practiced whore's, his belly going tight as Pete stole his breath, his sense. Pete took full advantage of the move, hand sliding up between his thighs to cup his package.
His hands were on Pete's chest, sliding up to curl around the amazing fucking shoulders as his cock tried to pound its way through his zipper. That hand kneaded his bulge, Pete shifting, pushing closer as the man turned and leaned over him.
His heart skipped a beat and he pushed into the kiss, jonesing on the way Pete was as wide as he was, heavy and solid and hot.
The dark leather at his back cradled him, Pete pushing him deeper into it, fingers carefully working his zipper. His cock helped, pushing out and into Pete's fingers. Damn. He had to seem like a slut, going commando.
"Fucking sweet," muttered Pete, looking down as the big hand wrapped around his prick.
"Yeah..." His hips rolled up, pushing into that touch straightaway, humping good and hard.
"Take your t-shirt off, man."
He nodded, gasping a little, and tugged it off. "You too, man."
"Go for it, my hands are a little busy." Yeah, busy jacking his prick and twisting his right nipple. Shit.
It was hard, as clumsy as his fucking fingers were, but he managed, tugging Pete's shirt up. Of course, off meant Pete had to let go of him. Laughing softly, Pete put up his arms, and the t-shirt came off. Fuck, the man was stacked.
"Jesus." He just blinked, hands landing on that chest. "Look at you."
Pete flexed those pecs beneath his hands. "You're not so bad yourself, Jon."
He made some random agreeing noise -- so focused on feeling and touching that he'd've agreed to anything.
Pete's mouth covered his again, stealing his breath as Pete's hands found his nipples and his cock again. Their tongues pushed and stroked, both of them working for control. Jesus, it was hot.
Pete's prick was hard against his thigh. Hell, it felt fucking huge rubbing against him. He couldn't help but moan into Pete's mouth, hand sliding down to cup that amazing fucking prick.
Fucking hell.
Pete groaned and jerked against his hand. "Gonna take the edge off first?" The hand around his own prick slid away until it was Pete's fingers working his prick.
He rubbed the tip of Pete's prick through the worn jeans, a wet spot blooming under his touch. "Fuck, yeah."
Bending low, Pete licked at his nipple, tongue-tip going back and forth across it, the movements matched by the man's thumb across the tip of his cock.
"Sweet fuck." His balls drew up, cock swelling, so fucking close.
"It's gonna be."
That hand squeezed around his cock, jacking him harder. Teeth, sharp and hard, bit at his nipple, the sensation zinging through him. He shot so hard his muscles burned, entire body vibrating with it.
The bite turned into warm lips sucking around his nipple, slowly bringing him down.
"I. Damn." Jon blinked, fingers going clumsy.
Pete rubbed his come into the skin of his belly. "You smell good."
"Thanks. That was amazing." He remembered that he was supposed to be helping, fingers wrapping around Pete's cock again, thumb working the vein.
Eyes half closing, Pete moved against his hand, hot and slick. "Nice. More."
"Yeah." He pulled harder, watching Pete's face, jonesing on it.
Those eyes rolled, the big body shuddered and Pete's hips snapped for him. And that was a fucking sweet sound that Pete made, cock throbbing in his fingers and spilling spunk out over his hand.
Jon returned the favor, rubbing the wet seed over Pete's prick.
Pete grinned, pushing happily into his hand. "So, you like my couch. Wanna see the bed?"
"If it's anywhere near as fun as the sofa, how could I refuse?"
Laughing, Peter stood and held out a hand to help him up. The man cut quite a figure with that wide chest and little waist, still half-hard prick hanging out from the fly of his jeans.
They wandered into the bedroom, toward a huge, comfortable looking bed, the whole look sensual, sexy.
Pete stepped up behind him, hands sliding down along his hips, pushing his jeans off. He could feel the heat of Pete's prick against his bare ass. His own prick jerked and started to swell again, just from the touch. Those hands slid over his belly, Pete wrapping him in a bear hug from behind.
"Mmm." Oh, oh that was so fucking warm.
So hot.
So damn good.
"You have the stuff we need, Jon?"
"I have rubbers."
"No slick? Hmmm. That's okay -- I like a little tongue action south of the beltline."
His entire lower body jerked, his thighs so tight they hurt.
Pete's lips nibbled at his ear, and then moved down along the side of his neck. "Just bend over, babe. Spread a little for me and I'll take care of you."
"I." He opened his mouth to say he didn't bottom. He didn't want to. He wouldn't.
That hot tongue slid to the back of his neck, teasing across the bundle of nerves there before Pete's lips began to nibble their wait down his spine. His body bent, hands landing on the mattress, thighs spreading. Oh, sweet fuck.
"Oh, that's sweet." Pete's voice had gone husky and the man's heat followed him down, tongue and lips slowly working their way down his spine. The big fingers were on his ass, kneading and rubbing.
What the hell was he doing? Why the fuck did it feel so good?
He stretched a little, skin goosepimpling up wherever Pete's lips brushed.
"So sexy, Jon." Pete's breath was warm on his skin, tongue teasing the bundle of nerves he didn't even know fucking existed, right there at the top of his ass.
"Oh!" His spine rippled eyes going wide. "Again." Please.
Pete chuckled, the sound wafting air across the spot. Then the man's tongue was back, working those nerves until he wanted to scream from it. He panted, sweat sheening him, chest and back, his thighs trembling. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.
That tongue, it moved lower, flicking into the top of his crack and then dragging oh, so slowly downward. This sound tore out of him, needy and hungry and just raw.
"Let me hear that again." That tongue kept moving down, flicking across his hole.
"Oh, fuck..." He jerked, cried out again, and then again.
Over and over Pete's tongue flicked against his hole. He'd never felt anything like it. Never. And then Pete's tongue pushed right into him. His world went white hot and bright, every muscle in his body tight.
Pete pushed deeper, tongue wriggling inside him.
"Pete. Fuck. I." He couldn't fucking breathe.
Then Pete started to fuck him with that tongue, short, sharp stabs. His heels thrummed on the floor, legs shaking violently, eyes rolling in his head. Damn. Pete's tongue pushed in deeper, stretching him a little, wetting him inside.
"I." He leaned down, cheek on his arm, breathing hard.
That tongue slid away, moving back up to circle those nerves in the small of his back, and one of Pete's fingers pushing into him instead. Oh. Oh. He tensed, squeezed, that finger seeming so much bigger than it had seemed before.
"Relax, Jon. I'm going to take care of you."
He nodded, tried to take a deep breath. Relax. Right. Okay.
Another wet finger pushed into him. Shit. Fucking huge.
"Sh. Just my fingers, Jon."
"How... how could you tell?"
"What do you mean?" The fingers inside him scissored, spreading him wider.
"That I haven't... I mean. Nothing." Nothing. More.
Pete's fingers stilled for a moment, and then began moving again. "Not ever? You're going to love this." The words were soft and once said, Pete's fingers pushed deep, hitting his gland.
His head snapped up, throat working as electricity shot through him. Pete's chuckle was warm, and those fingers hit his gland again. His knees buckled, eyes rolling. Oh, fuck him.
"Gonna make you fly, Jon. I swear."
"Yeah. Yeah, please, man. Please." Flying -- he thought he could learn to like that.
"Oh, you might not have done this before, but you're a natural." Pete's fingers disappeared and the sound of the condom package opening was fucking loud.
His ass went tight, his heart just pounding. Jon wasn't exactly sure he was a natural. Before he could change his mind, though, Pete's tongue was back, sliding into him.
It was almost a scream that left him. Almost.
That tongue fucked him until he stopped waiting for it to disappear. He wasn't thinking. He wasn't doing anything but feeling, rocking back, entire body begging.
Then Pete's tongue disappeared, the man's hands sliding and stroking on his skin as the blunt, fucking huge, heat of Pete's cock nudged at his prick. His eyes went wide, his body spreading, letting Pete in. Oh, sweet fuck.
"Yeah, just like that." Pete's prick pushed in and in.
He groaned, thighs shaking, breath caught in his chest. Finally, Pete's hips rested against the back of his ass, and strong fingers dug into his shoulders, rubbed along his sides.
"Breathe, Jon."
"I can't remember how."
Pete's hand pressed flat against his chest. "Right here. Just breathe."
Pete's other hand slid over his hip and pinched the side of his ass. Hard. Jon gasped, jerked, then took another deep breath and another. Oh. Better. Pete waited for him, that hand moving with his chest, but everything else about the man staying still.
The pressure in him faded from a burn to a stretch to a sweet, deep ache. Oh. He might live.
"Better?" Pete's voice sounded strained, and he could feel the man's thighs trembling against the back of his own.
"Yeah. Yeah. Move?" He needed something to happen.
"Thank fucking God."
That big cock pulled slowly out of him, dragging against his skin, firing every fucking nerve in his body. Another one of those sounds dragged out of him, his body just screaming with pleasure.
"Fuck, yes." Pete pushed in again, just as slowly, and then out, a little faster this time. The man's hands grabbed his hips in a tight grip and found a slow, steady rhythm.
"Pete..." He moved with Pete, riding that heavy cock like he was made to fuck.
"Right fucking here with you, man." Pete shifted him, just a little, just enough that Pete's prick hit his gland, good and hard, on the next thrust.
"Fuck!" He pushed up onto his hands, pushing himself back harder.
Pete's hands tightened, holding him hard enough he could feel his skin bruising, and he didn't fucking care, not when that grip pulled him back harder, not when Pete's prick hit his gland again, pleasure exploding through him like he had fireworks up there.
"Yes. Yes." He chanted it, over and over, his cries filling the air.
Pete picked up the pace, and one of those big hands slid around his hip to wrap around his cock. Everything went white hot and bright, their movements becoming slaps, moving faster and harder. Harsh, heavy panting filled the air, along with the sound of their flesh coming together. Pete slammed into him over and over, keeping him full, making him fly.
"Close." He almost sobbed the word out, balls drawn into tight sacs.
"Do it. Wanna feel you coming on my cock, man."
"Uh. Uh-huh." Pete's thumb brushed the tip of his cock, seed pouring out of him.
"Yes! Fuck!" Pete kept jacking him, hips going wild. slamming that fat cock into him over and over.
He gathered himself, tried his best to squeeze, to give Pete more sensation, more pleasure.
"Yeah. Yeah." Pete slammed in hard and froze, crying out.
Oh. Oh, he.
Yeah.
They tumbled forward onto the bed, both panting. Pete's fingers stroked his hip as the big cock slid out of him.
"You good, man?"
"B...better than good." So much better.
The low chuckle vibrated against his back, and that hand patted his belly.
He hummed, hoping to hell Pete didn't want him to leave yet. "You?"
"Really fucking good. You gonna stay so we can do round two in the morning?"
Oh, hell yes.
"I am, yeah." Yeah. Yeah, he was gonna stay.
"Cool." Peter settled in around him, big and solid, hot against his back, lips soft on his neck.
"Mmmhmm." His eyes dropped closed, fingers twining with Peter's. "Thank you."
"Hey, man. It was your fantasy..."
"Yeah." Yeah, his own fantasy.
Changeling Press has 10% off for St-Patrick's Day -- today only -- Shamrock12.
Torquere Press has 15% off through to Monday evening -- toosexy2012.
Club Fantasy - Chapter 10
Did he really care?
Hell, no. Enough of this pussyfooting around. Jon leaned over and tugged Pete in, their mouths crashing together.
One big hand landed on his thigh, squeezing. The other slid around behind his neck, holding him in place as Pete took the kiss deeper, tongue opening his mouth and sweeping in.
His thighs opened like a practiced whore's, his belly going tight as Pete stole his breath, his sense. Pete took full advantage of the move, hand sliding up between his thighs to cup his package.
His hands were on Pete's chest, sliding up to curl around the amazing fucking shoulders as his cock tried to pound its way through his zipper. That hand kneaded his bulge, Pete shifting, pushing closer as the man turned and leaned over him.
His heart skipped a beat and he pushed into the kiss, jonesing on the way Pete was as wide as he was, heavy and solid and hot.
The dark leather at his back cradled him, Pete pushing him deeper into it, fingers carefully working his zipper. His cock helped, pushing out and into Pete's fingers. Damn. He had to seem like a slut, going commando.
"Fucking sweet," muttered Pete, looking down as the big hand wrapped around his prick.
"Yeah..." His hips rolled up, pushing into that touch straightaway, humping good and hard.
"Take your t-shirt off, man."
He nodded, gasping a little, and tugged it off. "You too, man."
"Go for it, my hands are a little busy." Yeah, busy jacking his prick and twisting his right nipple. Shit.
It was hard, as clumsy as his fucking fingers were, but he managed, tugging Pete's shirt up. Of course, off meant Pete had to let go of him. Laughing softly, Pete put up his arms, and the t-shirt came off. Fuck, the man was stacked.
"Jesus." He just blinked, hands landing on that chest. "Look at you."
Pete flexed those pecs beneath his hands. "You're not so bad yourself, Jon."
He made some random agreeing noise -- so focused on feeling and touching that he'd've agreed to anything.
Pete's mouth covered his again, stealing his breath as Pete's hands found his nipples and his cock again. Their tongues pushed and stroked, both of them working for control. Jesus, it was hot.
Pete's prick was hard against his thigh. Hell, it felt fucking huge rubbing against him. He couldn't help but moan into Pete's mouth, hand sliding down to cup that amazing fucking prick.
Fucking hell.
Pete groaned and jerked against his hand. "Gonna take the edge off first?" The hand around his own prick slid away until it was Pete's fingers working his prick.
He rubbed the tip of Pete's prick through the worn jeans, a wet spot blooming under his touch. "Fuck, yeah."
Bending low, Pete licked at his nipple, tongue-tip going back and forth across it, the movements matched by the man's thumb across the tip of his cock.
"Sweet fuck." His balls drew up, cock swelling, so fucking close.
"It's gonna be."
That hand squeezed around his cock, jacking him harder. Teeth, sharp and hard, bit at his nipple, the sensation zinging through him. He shot so hard his muscles burned, entire body vibrating with it.
The bite turned into warm lips sucking around his nipple, slowly bringing him down.
"I. Damn." Jon blinked, fingers going clumsy.
Pete rubbed his come into the skin of his belly. "You smell good."
"Thanks. That was amazing." He remembered that he was supposed to be helping, fingers wrapping around Pete's cock again, thumb working the vein.
Eyes half closing, Pete moved against his hand, hot and slick. "Nice. More."
"Yeah." He pulled harder, watching Pete's face, jonesing on it.
Those eyes rolled, the big body shuddered and Pete's hips snapped for him. And that was a fucking sweet sound that Pete made, cock throbbing in his fingers and spilling spunk out over his hand.
Jon returned the favor, rubbing the wet seed over Pete's prick.
Pete grinned, pushing happily into his hand. "So, you like my couch. Wanna see the bed?"
"If it's anywhere near as fun as the sofa, how could I refuse?"
Laughing, Peter stood and held out a hand to help him up. The man cut quite a figure with that wide chest and little waist, still half-hard prick hanging out from the fly of his jeans.
They wandered into the bedroom, toward a huge, comfortable looking bed, the whole look sensual, sexy.
Pete stepped up behind him, hands sliding down along his hips, pushing his jeans off. He could feel the heat of Pete's prick against his bare ass. His own prick jerked and started to swell again, just from the touch. Those hands slid over his belly, Pete wrapping him in a bear hug from behind.
"Mmm." Oh, oh that was so fucking warm.
So hot.
So damn good.
"You have the stuff we need, Jon?"
"I have rubbers."
"No slick? Hmmm. That's okay -- I like a little tongue action south of the beltline."
His entire lower body jerked, his thighs so tight they hurt.
Pete's lips nibbled at his ear, and then moved down along the side of his neck. "Just bend over, babe. Spread a little for me and I'll take care of you."
"I." He opened his mouth to say he didn't bottom. He didn't want to. He wouldn't.
That hot tongue slid to the back of his neck, teasing across the bundle of nerves there before Pete's lips began to nibble their wait down his spine. His body bent, hands landing on the mattress, thighs spreading. Oh, sweet fuck.
"Oh, that's sweet." Pete's voice had gone husky and the man's heat followed him down, tongue and lips slowly working their way down his spine. The big fingers were on his ass, kneading and rubbing.
What the hell was he doing? Why the fuck did it feel so good?
He stretched a little, skin goosepimpling up wherever Pete's lips brushed.
"So sexy, Jon." Pete's breath was warm on his skin, tongue teasing the bundle of nerves he didn't even know fucking existed, right there at the top of his ass.
"Oh!" His spine rippled eyes going wide. "Again." Please.
Pete chuckled, the sound wafting air across the spot. Then the man's tongue was back, working those nerves until he wanted to scream from it. He panted, sweat sheening him, chest and back, his thighs trembling. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.
That tongue, it moved lower, flicking into the top of his crack and then dragging oh, so slowly downward. This sound tore out of him, needy and hungry and just raw.
"Let me hear that again." That tongue kept moving down, flicking across his hole.
"Oh, fuck..." He jerked, cried out again, and then again.
Over and over Pete's tongue flicked against his hole. He'd never felt anything like it. Never. And then Pete's tongue pushed right into him. His world went white hot and bright, every muscle in his body tight.
Pete pushed deeper, tongue wriggling inside him.
"Pete. Fuck. I." He couldn't fucking breathe.
Then Pete started to fuck him with that tongue, short, sharp stabs. His heels thrummed on the floor, legs shaking violently, eyes rolling in his head. Damn. Pete's tongue pushed in deeper, stretching him a little, wetting him inside.
"I." He leaned down, cheek on his arm, breathing hard.
That tongue slid away, moving back up to circle those nerves in the small of his back, and one of Pete's fingers pushing into him instead. Oh. Oh. He tensed, squeezed, that finger seeming so much bigger than it had seemed before.
"Relax, Jon. I'm going to take care of you."
He nodded, tried to take a deep breath. Relax. Right. Okay.
Another wet finger pushed into him. Shit. Fucking huge.
"Sh. Just my fingers, Jon."
"How... how could you tell?"
"What do you mean?" The fingers inside him scissored, spreading him wider.
"That I haven't... I mean. Nothing." Nothing. More.
Pete's fingers stilled for a moment, and then began moving again. "Not ever? You're going to love this." The words were soft and once said, Pete's fingers pushed deep, hitting his gland.
His head snapped up, throat working as electricity shot through him. Pete's chuckle was warm, and those fingers hit his gland again. His knees buckled, eyes rolling. Oh, fuck him.
"Gonna make you fly, Jon. I swear."
"Yeah. Yeah, please, man. Please." Flying -- he thought he could learn to like that.
"Oh, you might not have done this before, but you're a natural." Pete's fingers disappeared and the sound of the condom package opening was fucking loud.
His ass went tight, his heart just pounding. Jon wasn't exactly sure he was a natural. Before he could change his mind, though, Pete's tongue was back, sliding into him.
It was almost a scream that left him. Almost.
That tongue fucked him until he stopped waiting for it to disappear. He wasn't thinking. He wasn't doing anything but feeling, rocking back, entire body begging.
Then Pete's tongue disappeared, the man's hands sliding and stroking on his skin as the blunt, fucking huge, heat of Pete's cock nudged at his prick. His eyes went wide, his body spreading, letting Pete in. Oh, sweet fuck.
"Yeah, just like that." Pete's prick pushed in and in.
He groaned, thighs shaking, breath caught in his chest. Finally, Pete's hips rested against the back of his ass, and strong fingers dug into his shoulders, rubbed along his sides.
"Breathe, Jon."
"I can't remember how."
Pete's hand pressed flat against his chest. "Right here. Just breathe."
Pete's other hand slid over his hip and pinched the side of his ass. Hard. Jon gasped, jerked, then took another deep breath and another. Oh. Better. Pete waited for him, that hand moving with his chest, but everything else about the man staying still.
The pressure in him faded from a burn to a stretch to a sweet, deep ache. Oh. He might live.
"Better?" Pete's voice sounded strained, and he could feel the man's thighs trembling against the back of his own.
"Yeah. Yeah. Move?" He needed something to happen.
"Thank fucking God."
That big cock pulled slowly out of him, dragging against his skin, firing every fucking nerve in his body. Another one of those sounds dragged out of him, his body just screaming with pleasure.
"Fuck, yes." Pete pushed in again, just as slowly, and then out, a little faster this time. The man's hands grabbed his hips in a tight grip and found a slow, steady rhythm.
"Pete..." He moved with Pete, riding that heavy cock like he was made to fuck.
"Right fucking here with you, man." Pete shifted him, just a little, just enough that Pete's prick hit his gland, good and hard, on the next thrust.
"Fuck!" He pushed up onto his hands, pushing himself back harder.
Pete's hands tightened, holding him hard enough he could feel his skin bruising, and he didn't fucking care, not when that grip pulled him back harder, not when Pete's prick hit his gland again, pleasure exploding through him like he had fireworks up there.
"Yes. Yes." He chanted it, over and over, his cries filling the air.
Pete picked up the pace, and one of those big hands slid around his hip to wrap around his cock. Everything went white hot and bright, their movements becoming slaps, moving faster and harder. Harsh, heavy panting filled the air, along with the sound of their flesh coming together. Pete slammed into him over and over, keeping him full, making him fly.
"Close." He almost sobbed the word out, balls drawn into tight sacs.
"Do it. Wanna feel you coming on my cock, man."
"Uh. Uh-huh." Pete's thumb brushed the tip of his cock, seed pouring out of him.
"Yes! Fuck!" Pete kept jacking him, hips going wild. slamming that fat cock into him over and over.
He gathered himself, tried his best to squeeze, to give Pete more sensation, more pleasure.
"Yeah. Yeah." Pete slammed in hard and froze, crying out.
Oh. Oh, he.
Yeah.
They tumbled forward onto the bed, both panting. Pete's fingers stroked his hip as the big cock slid out of him.
"You good, man?"
"B...better than good." So much better.
The low chuckle vibrated against his back, and that hand patted his belly.
He hummed, hoping to hell Pete didn't want him to leave yet. "You?"
"Really fucking good. You gonna stay so we can do round two in the morning?"
Oh, hell yes.
"I am, yeah." Yeah. Yeah, he was gonna stay.
"Cool." Peter settled in around him, big and solid, hot against his back, lips soft on his neck.
"Mmmhmm." His eyes dropped closed, fingers twining with Peter's. "Thank you."
"Hey, man. It was your fantasy..."
"Yeah." Yeah, his own fantasy.
March 15, 2012
Thursday Three
I'm guest blogging at Marie-Claire Payne's blog today, talking about Chess: Opening Moves. Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of the book! That's here.
I'm also at The Romance Studio's St-Patrick Day's party. Leave a comment on any of my posts for a chance to win a $5 Torquere gift certificate. That's here.
Solitary, the next Hammer novel comes out next week!
March 13, 2012
My God It's Not Monday Anymore
Missed yesterday. Was about to miss today too -- had a few deadlines that I was working my ass off to hit. Those are out of the way and now there's a couple more.
Beautiful weather this week.
okay, very tired so that is all.
Beautiful weather this week.
okay, very tired so that is all.
March 9, 2012
Fiction Friday
Club Fantasy - Chapter Nine
Michael stalked around the club, restless and out of sorts. He moved between people at the tables, and skirted the dance floor, careful not to touch anyone, and keeping his glamour in place, his wings hidden.
The boss had insisted there was a leak and tasked him and Seth to find it and plug it. All fine and good, but it wasn't exactly going to be easy to do when they hadn't had a fantasy winner in nearly three months.
It was like fate was playing with him. And he wasn't interested in playing back.
He sat at the bar, smiling at Robin as the man brought him over a lime margarita, sugar around the rim instead of salt, just like he liked it.
"You okay, boss?"
He shrugged and took a sip of the drink, the sweet and sour chased by the bite of the tequila feeling good in his mouth. Almost as good as a certain forked tongue. Almost.
"Something's obviously bothering you. You know, listening is one of my skills, being a bartender and all."
Michael chuckled. "Oh, we just haven't had a winner in awhile."
Robin nodded. "Yeah. I kind of noticed that."
"We all have."
Someone called to Robin and the bartender gave him a smile, a wave and headed down to the other end of the bar.
Sipping on his drink, Michael scanned the room, letting the alcohol soothe his nerves a little. His eyes were caught for a moment by a big guy with an aura of need around him. Bulked up and solid, the man looked like a block of meat moving through the crowd. Tanned and simply dressed, and Michael couldn't help but wonder if the man was a soldier or a sailor, a fireman, something archetypal and male.
Mmm... very nice. Of course not as nice as his own horny little demon, but very nice nonetheless. And speaking of the devil...
Chuckling to himself, Michael stood, taking his drink with him as he made his way over to Seth, drawn like a moth to the flame.
If he was lucky, Seth would make him burn.
***
Jon wandered, dissatisfied, bored, nowhere near drunk enough to enjoy this. He didn't even know what he was doing here. He tossed a couple of bucks into one slot machine, and then headed toward the blackjack table.
He hadn't gone two steps when a large body bumped into his. This guy was nearly as tall as him, and certainly just as built. "Oops, watch the beer, man." The guy chuckled, green eyes dancing.
"Sorry." He grinned back, taking a long, slow look before catching himself. Stop it, now.
And he'd be damned if he wasn't given a long slow look himself. "You having any luck today?"
"Not a bit. You?" This man didn't look like his type. Not at all. Really.
"I thought I'd give the slots a try." Mr. Studly nodded back the way Jon had come. "Thought it might be luckier over here than at the bar."
"Yeah? There's the big daddy one. It's got some bells and whistles."
"Oh, look at that. You tried it out yet?" The guy took a drink of his beer and headed back toward the slots.
Jon found himself following along, watching that tight ass shaking back and forth.
The man threw in a quarter and then stepped back, indicating the handle. "First one's on me."
"You sure?"
At the guy's nod, he reached for the huge handle and watched. The gears whirred and spun, the lights flashing like crazy.
Cherries.
Cherries.
"Oh, dude. Come on."
Mr. Studly laughed and clapped his back. "You win and I swear you owe me a beer."
"Uh-huh."
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Cherries.
Cherries!
"Woohoo!"
"All right!" Strong arms wrapped around him in a bear hug and he was picked up off the ground before being set down again, that big paw thumping him on the back.
"Fuck, yeah!" He grinned, hooting, clapping. "Damn."
They turned back to the machine, watching the lights, Studly's arm around his shoulders. The lights stopped and a single large token dropped down into the bowl.
"Dude." He reached out, looked the token over. "Have a happy fantasy." What the hell did that mean?
"Man. Tell you what -- I'll buy you a beer after all."
"No. No, I'll buy. It was on your quarter. Besides, we need to see what this is worth." It had to be worth something.
Studly took the token from him and turned it over a couple times, rubbed the lettering on it, then tossed it up in the air for him to catch. "I could be your fantasy."
"You think so?" He wasn't so sure. At all. The man was fine, but so not the type he usually fucked.
"I do." One big hand was held out to him. "Pete Horvaugh."
"Jon Billings." Jesus, the man was strong.
"Well come on, let's get that beer, find out if this biggie wow jackpot is more than just this fortune cookie coin, and see if I can do it for you, yeah?" Pete gave him a wink and led the way back to the bar, ass shaking for him again.
Jon chuckled, smiled. Hell, maybe he was going to get lucky after all.
There were two men at the bar, looking at him, looking like they were waiting for him. One of them smiled and held out his hand. "I believe you have something for us."
"I do." He held out the token. "Tell us what we won, man!"
The blond's smile turned into a grin. "You hit the fantasy jackpot. That means your deepest, darkest fantasy will come true."
"Darkest? What does that mean?" Dude. He didn't have dark fantasies.
"Only that the coin can ferret out any desire, even those you've hidden from yourself." There was another laugh and warm fingers took the coin from him, the touch almost electric. Then the man leaned in to whisper. "Relax. You're going to enjoy it."
Man, that was a waste of a quarter. "Thanks, I guess. Can I get my friend a beer, please?"
"The bartender will be happy to serve you. Whatever you want is on the house." The man winked and leaned against his companion.
Pete snorted and gave him a look. "What I want's not for sale."
Heat flooded him, his cock twitching. "No? Are you sure? They have a well-stocked bar."
"You want to stay and have drinks we can do that." Pete shrugged, met his eyes again. "But I'm not really thirsty."
The noise and the lights seemed to fade, Jon unusually, surprisingly caught. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, man. I just want to take you home."
"Well, then. I guess it is my lucky night."
Even if the only thing he'd won at the slots was free drinks he never used.
***
Jon couldn't believe this.
Well, he could, really. He'd picked up men before for a blowjob, even a quick lean-them-over type of fuck.
Still.
This was... something else.
"Your place or mine?"
"Wherever you're more comfortable. I live alone so we'll have peace at my place, but I'm easy." Pete gave him a warm grin, eyes eating him up. "I'm all about the easy."
"Yeah? Good to know." He grinned back, nodded. "I live over on the other side of the river, you closer?" At Pete's nod, he grinned. "Then your place it is."
"We could walk it, but a cab'll be faster." Pete looked down at himself and then chuckled, gave him a wink. "I'm voting for faster."
"Faster works for me." He had a car on the other side of the club, but this whole thing was like a dream.
"Cab it is." Pete got the bartender's attention and asked the man to get them a cab. Then a warm, solid arm went around his shoulders and Pete led him toward the door. He went, heart thrumming a little in his chest.
The cab pulled up in front of the club as they stepped out, the sidewalks busy, neon lights bright, reminding him of the slot machine. Pete held the door open for him and climbed on in after him, the two of them filling the back of the cab, Pete solid and warm beside him.
Pete gave the cabbie the address and Jon just closed his eyes for once, just let the taxi take him wherever. Just once.
Pete's fingers rubbed his neck, the touch soothing, and yet arousing at the same time. "Won't be long, Jon. It won't be long at all."
"I..." He moaned, head falling forward. "I don't ever do this."
"Do what, man? Take a cab?" Pete chuckled, those fingers digging into his muscles.
"Huh? No. No, I mean... It doesn't matter." It didn't.
"You're not changing your mind, I hope."
"No. Not at all. Just wondering at myself."
Pete looked him up and down. "I'm wondering a bit myself. Wondering if what's under that t-shirt and jeans is as good as seems from where I'm sitting..."
He flexed a little, nodding. He knew how good he looked; he was proud of it. "I can hold my own."
"Mmm... I'll just bet you can." He was given that once over again, and he swore he could feel that look of Pete's.
The cab pulled up to the curb in front of a high rise. And Pete cleared his throat. "We're here." The man handed some cash over to the driver and leaned past him to open the door for him.
He slid out, feeling oddly romanced, almost wooed. "Nice building."
"Thanks."
That feeling of being romanced continued as Pete put a hand on his back and led him to the door, which was held open for him. "My place is pretty small, but it has a great view and there's a pool on the roof. Can't ask for much more than that."
"No. I have half of a little house. Nothing fancy, but there's a door, a little backyard."
"You have a roommate?" The elevator was waiting at the lobby and they went in, Pete pressing the button to floor nine.
"I live with a lesbian couple. Nice, decent folks that rent a little of their place."
"Sounds like a good deal." The elevator stopped, opened up, and Pete's hand returned to the small of his back, directing him toward the right.
His cock jerked and jumped, filling. His ass kept trying to roll back, make an offer he wasn't sure he wanted to make. Just as they arrived at the last door in the corridor, Pete's hand slipped down and squeezed. His hips rolled, the action immediate. Perverse.
A soft hum filled the air, and the look Pete gave him was heated. Then the door was open and Peter was ushering him in.
The apartment was clean, simple, masculine from the heavy furniture to the walls in a rich cocoa brown.
Pete didn't push him up against the door the second they got in or anything, but led him into the large single room. "You want a drink or anything, Jon?"
"I could use a sip of water." His mouth was dry, his cock aching. He felt a little drunk, even though he hadn't had much.
"I'm sure I can manage more than a sip." Pete left him at a dark brown leather couch and went to the little kitchen that was separated from the rest of the room by a bar. Two glasses were filled with water from the fridge, and then Pete was sitting next to him, eyes eating him up.
"What do you do for a living, man?" Christ, small talk was excruciating.
The glass was taken from his hand, and placed on the table, Pete turning toward him and leaning in. "Do you really care?"
Also, today and tomorrow are the last days to get 20% off at Torquere Press. The code is read2012. My books are here.
Michael stalked around the club, restless and out of sorts. He moved between people at the tables, and skirted the dance floor, careful not to touch anyone, and keeping his glamour in place, his wings hidden.
The boss had insisted there was a leak and tasked him and Seth to find it and plug it. All fine and good, but it wasn't exactly going to be easy to do when they hadn't had a fantasy winner in nearly three months.
It was like fate was playing with him. And he wasn't interested in playing back.
He sat at the bar, smiling at Robin as the man brought him over a lime margarita, sugar around the rim instead of salt, just like he liked it.
"You okay, boss?"
He shrugged and took a sip of the drink, the sweet and sour chased by the bite of the tequila feeling good in his mouth. Almost as good as a certain forked tongue. Almost.
"Something's obviously bothering you. You know, listening is one of my skills, being a bartender and all."
Michael chuckled. "Oh, we just haven't had a winner in awhile."
Robin nodded. "Yeah. I kind of noticed that."
"We all have."
Someone called to Robin and the bartender gave him a smile, a wave and headed down to the other end of the bar.
Sipping on his drink, Michael scanned the room, letting the alcohol soothe his nerves a little. His eyes were caught for a moment by a big guy with an aura of need around him. Bulked up and solid, the man looked like a block of meat moving through the crowd. Tanned and simply dressed, and Michael couldn't help but wonder if the man was a soldier or a sailor, a fireman, something archetypal and male.
Mmm... very nice. Of course not as nice as his own horny little demon, but very nice nonetheless. And speaking of the devil...
Chuckling to himself, Michael stood, taking his drink with him as he made his way over to Seth, drawn like a moth to the flame.
If he was lucky, Seth would make him burn.
***
Jon wandered, dissatisfied, bored, nowhere near drunk enough to enjoy this. He didn't even know what he was doing here. He tossed a couple of bucks into one slot machine, and then headed toward the blackjack table.
He hadn't gone two steps when a large body bumped into his. This guy was nearly as tall as him, and certainly just as built. "Oops, watch the beer, man." The guy chuckled, green eyes dancing.
"Sorry." He grinned back, taking a long, slow look before catching himself. Stop it, now.
And he'd be damned if he wasn't given a long slow look himself. "You having any luck today?"
"Not a bit. You?" This man didn't look like his type. Not at all. Really.
"I thought I'd give the slots a try." Mr. Studly nodded back the way Jon had come. "Thought it might be luckier over here than at the bar."
"Yeah? There's the big daddy one. It's got some bells and whistles."
"Oh, look at that. You tried it out yet?" The guy took a drink of his beer and headed back toward the slots.
Jon found himself following along, watching that tight ass shaking back and forth.
The man threw in a quarter and then stepped back, indicating the handle. "First one's on me."
"You sure?"
At the guy's nod, he reached for the huge handle and watched. The gears whirred and spun, the lights flashing like crazy.
Cherries.
Cherries.
"Oh, dude. Come on."
Mr. Studly laughed and clapped his back. "You win and I swear you owe me a beer."
"Uh-huh."
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Cherries.
Cherries!
"Woohoo!"
"All right!" Strong arms wrapped around him in a bear hug and he was picked up off the ground before being set down again, that big paw thumping him on the back.
"Fuck, yeah!" He grinned, hooting, clapping. "Damn."
They turned back to the machine, watching the lights, Studly's arm around his shoulders. The lights stopped and a single large token dropped down into the bowl.
"Dude." He reached out, looked the token over. "Have a happy fantasy." What the hell did that mean?
"Man. Tell you what -- I'll buy you a beer after all."
"No. No, I'll buy. It was on your quarter. Besides, we need to see what this is worth." It had to be worth something.
Studly took the token from him and turned it over a couple times, rubbed the lettering on it, then tossed it up in the air for him to catch. "I could be your fantasy."
"You think so?" He wasn't so sure. At all. The man was fine, but so not the type he usually fucked.
"I do." One big hand was held out to him. "Pete Horvaugh."
"Jon Billings." Jesus, the man was strong.
"Well come on, let's get that beer, find out if this biggie wow jackpot is more than just this fortune cookie coin, and see if I can do it for you, yeah?" Pete gave him a wink and led the way back to the bar, ass shaking for him again.
Jon chuckled, smiled. Hell, maybe he was going to get lucky after all.
There were two men at the bar, looking at him, looking like they were waiting for him. One of them smiled and held out his hand. "I believe you have something for us."
"I do." He held out the token. "Tell us what we won, man!"
The blond's smile turned into a grin. "You hit the fantasy jackpot. That means your deepest, darkest fantasy will come true."
"Darkest? What does that mean?" Dude. He didn't have dark fantasies.
"Only that the coin can ferret out any desire, even those you've hidden from yourself." There was another laugh and warm fingers took the coin from him, the touch almost electric. Then the man leaned in to whisper. "Relax. You're going to enjoy it."
Man, that was a waste of a quarter. "Thanks, I guess. Can I get my friend a beer, please?"
"The bartender will be happy to serve you. Whatever you want is on the house." The man winked and leaned against his companion.
Pete snorted and gave him a look. "What I want's not for sale."
Heat flooded him, his cock twitching. "No? Are you sure? They have a well-stocked bar."
"You want to stay and have drinks we can do that." Pete shrugged, met his eyes again. "But I'm not really thirsty."
The noise and the lights seemed to fade, Jon unusually, surprisingly caught. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, man. I just want to take you home."
"Well, then. I guess it is my lucky night."
Even if the only thing he'd won at the slots was free drinks he never used.
***
Jon couldn't believe this.
Well, he could, really. He'd picked up men before for a blowjob, even a quick lean-them-over type of fuck.
Still.
This was... something else.
"Your place or mine?"
"Wherever you're more comfortable. I live alone so we'll have peace at my place, but I'm easy." Pete gave him a warm grin, eyes eating him up. "I'm all about the easy."
"Yeah? Good to know." He grinned back, nodded. "I live over on the other side of the river, you closer?" At Pete's nod, he grinned. "Then your place it is."
"We could walk it, but a cab'll be faster." Pete looked down at himself and then chuckled, gave him a wink. "I'm voting for faster."
"Faster works for me." He had a car on the other side of the club, but this whole thing was like a dream.
"Cab it is." Pete got the bartender's attention and asked the man to get them a cab. Then a warm, solid arm went around his shoulders and Pete led him toward the door. He went, heart thrumming a little in his chest.
The cab pulled up in front of the club as they stepped out, the sidewalks busy, neon lights bright, reminding him of the slot machine. Pete held the door open for him and climbed on in after him, the two of them filling the back of the cab, Pete solid and warm beside him.
Pete gave the cabbie the address and Jon just closed his eyes for once, just let the taxi take him wherever. Just once.
Pete's fingers rubbed his neck, the touch soothing, and yet arousing at the same time. "Won't be long, Jon. It won't be long at all."
"I..." He moaned, head falling forward. "I don't ever do this."
"Do what, man? Take a cab?" Pete chuckled, those fingers digging into his muscles.
"Huh? No. No, I mean... It doesn't matter." It didn't.
"You're not changing your mind, I hope."
"No. Not at all. Just wondering at myself."
Pete looked him up and down. "I'm wondering a bit myself. Wondering if what's under that t-shirt and jeans is as good as seems from where I'm sitting..."
He flexed a little, nodding. He knew how good he looked; he was proud of it. "I can hold my own."
"Mmm... I'll just bet you can." He was given that once over again, and he swore he could feel that look of Pete's.
The cab pulled up to the curb in front of a high rise. And Pete cleared his throat. "We're here." The man handed some cash over to the driver and leaned past him to open the door for him.
He slid out, feeling oddly romanced, almost wooed. "Nice building."
"Thanks."
That feeling of being romanced continued as Pete put a hand on his back and led him to the door, which was held open for him. "My place is pretty small, but it has a great view and there's a pool on the roof. Can't ask for much more than that."
"No. I have half of a little house. Nothing fancy, but there's a door, a little backyard."
"You have a roommate?" The elevator was waiting at the lobby and they went in, Pete pressing the button to floor nine.
"I live with a lesbian couple. Nice, decent folks that rent a little of their place."
"Sounds like a good deal." The elevator stopped, opened up, and Pete's hand returned to the small of his back, directing him toward the right.
His cock jerked and jumped, filling. His ass kept trying to roll back, make an offer he wasn't sure he wanted to make. Just as they arrived at the last door in the corridor, Pete's hand slipped down and squeezed. His hips rolled, the action immediate. Perverse.
A soft hum filled the air, and the look Pete gave him was heated. Then the door was open and Peter was ushering him in.
The apartment was clean, simple, masculine from the heavy furniture to the walls in a rich cocoa brown.
Pete didn't push him up against the door the second they got in or anything, but led him into the large single room. "You want a drink or anything, Jon?"
"I could use a sip of water." His mouth was dry, his cock aching. He felt a little drunk, even though he hadn't had much.
"I'm sure I can manage more than a sip." Pete left him at a dark brown leather couch and went to the little kitchen that was separated from the rest of the room by a bar. Two glasses were filled with water from the fridge, and then Pete was sitting next to him, eyes eating him up.
"What do you do for a living, man?" Christ, small talk was excruciating.
The glass was taken from his hand, and placed on the table, Pete turning toward him and leaning in. "Do you really care?"
Also, today and tomorrow are the last days to get 20% off at Torquere Press. The code is read2012. My books are here.
March 8, 2012
Thursday Three
I'm over at the Romance for the Rest of Us blog today. Check it out for a contest for the Velvet Glove ebook of the winner's choice, a new excerpt for Peace Within the Quiet, an excerpt of my upcoming Hammer novel Solitary, and a list -- Top Ten Things Rock Likes to Eat.
I missed last week's Club Fantasy chapter. Tomorrow's chapter will be a nice long one and I swear I'll get it up on Friday and not Notquitefrisaturday.
What do you get if you cross a polar bear shifter and a magician? Hot kinky sex of course! Stay tuned for more information about Nuk and Al in Cereus: Opening
March 7, 2012
Hump Day
I was interviewed over at Dawn's Reading Nook today.
Tomorrow I'll be at the TRS Release Party.
Also today -- Peace Within the Quiet, a Velvet Glove story came out:
Gloucester is a long-time Velvet Glove sub who's not getting any younger, and he's never found anyone to call his own. Then he meets Katashi, a quiet, serious Top, who's drawn to Gloucester, inviting him to a meal, and a session. The two of them find they have more in common than they thought, and begin a journey of a thousand miles with a single step.
Originally published on the Turn of the Screw Serial service and in the paperback volume, Velvet Glove 1.
You can buy it here.
Tomorrow I'll be at the TRS Release Party.
Also today -- Peace Within the Quiet, a Velvet Glove story came out:
Gloucester is a long-time Velvet Glove sub who's not getting any younger, and he's never found anyone to call his own. Then he meets Katashi, a quiet, serious Top, who's drawn to Gloucester, inviting him to a meal, and a session. The two of them find they have more in common than they thought, and begin a journey of a thousand miles with a single step.
Originally published on the Turn of the Screw Serial service and in the paperback volume, Velvet Glove 1.
You can buy it here.
March 5, 2012
My God It's Monday
Which ought to be titled My God It's March -- when the heck did that happen? I tured around and February was over and I've missed nearly a week of March.
I have a new short story in to Amber Allure called Dirty Kisses. It's coming out at the end of May.
I have Peace Within the Quiet, a Velvet Glove story coming out on Wednesday. This one was in the print book Velvet Glove, Volume 1. That'll make all the stories from that one out in ebook format now, as well as print.
Speaking of ebooks, apparently it's read an ebook week. Who knew? My publishers, apparently. Torquere Press has 20% off until Saturday with the code read2012 and you can win a free ereader from Total-e-Bound.
I'm at the Rainbow Studio blog tomorrow, Wednesday I've got an interview up at Dawn's Reading Nook, and then on Thursday I'm doing double duty at the TRS Release Party and at the Romance for the Rest of Us Blog. Another busy week.
Greg and Ap are coming on March 21!
I have a new short story in to Amber Allure called Dirty Kisses. It's coming out at the end of May.
I have Peace Within the Quiet, a Velvet Glove story coming out on Wednesday. This one was in the print book Velvet Glove, Volume 1. That'll make all the stories from that one out in ebook format now, as well as print.
Speaking of ebooks, apparently it's read an ebook week. Who knew? My publishers, apparently. Torquere Press has 20% off until Saturday with the code read2012 and you can win a free ereader from Total-e-Bound.
I'm at the Rainbow Studio blog tomorrow, Wednesday I've got an interview up at Dawn's Reading Nook, and then on Thursday I'm doing double duty at the TRS Release Party and at the Romance for the Rest of Us Blog. Another busy week.
Greg and Ap are coming on March 21!
February 28, 2012
Sean Michael's Blog
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Sean Michael isn't a Goodreads Author
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