A Private Hunger
Sean Michael
Genre: Gay paranormal romance
Publisher: All Romance eBooks
Date of Publication: 9/1/2016
ISBN: 978-1-945193-37-8
Word Count: 46000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill
Book Description:
What happens when you find out the man you’re in love with is actually a dragon?
Matthew is taking a break before going to university, working at a cafe in Seattle. He expects to spend a few months meeting people, having fun and generally living it up before hitting the books. Then he meets Drakon, a passionate, masculine man with an animal magnetism that draws Matthew in.
As Matthew moves in with Drakon on his country estate and slowly finds himself cut off from the world around him, he begins to wonder if that animal magnetism is more literal than figurative and if Drakon would be more aptly named Dragon.
Will Matthew stay with the man he’s growing to love once he discovers Drakon’s long-lived, carefully guarded secret?
Excerpt:
He grabbed the
coffee cups off the table, whistling low and easy. His hips were still sore
from last night’s dancing, but it felt good, fine, a sweet burn.
Jennie popped
his ass as she walked by. “You’re too cheerful for words, Matt-baby. You get
laid last night?”
Matt shook his
head, red curls falling into his eyes. “Just dancing, Miss Thing. Just
boogying.”
She laughed and
headed on, coffee pot held tight in her hand.
Two men came in
together, one older, distinguished looking. Like a British butler, really. The
other was tall, striking, with hair like a mane, dark gold surrounding a golden
face and falling down the man’s back.
They sat at one
of his tables.
Fucking hot.
He headed over,
two menus in hand, telling his jumpy prick to behave. “Afternoon, guys. I’m
Matt. Can I get you some coffee? Tea?”
“What about
you?” asked the hot one.
Matt blinked,
blushed dark, and then recovered with a grin. Flirting. He could do flirting.
“I’m working and not on the menu, sadly enough.”
“I guess I shall
have to settle for tea, then. I don’t suppose you have something wild and
strong?”
“We’ve got a
nice blackberry and black tea.” He craned his neck, looking at the specials
board. “And another from South America that people seem to like.”
The man growled,
actually growled, looking discontentedly at his companion.
“I would be
happy to drive you home and serve you what you want, Master Drakon.”
The growling
stopped, the hot guy’s mouth twitching into a half smile. “I am most certain that
you would not, Wetthers, though you are right, we have better teas at home.”
“Master Drakon”
turned back to him, and Matt realized that one of the man’s eyes was brown, the
other blue. “How much are they paying you to serve here?”
“Excuse me?” He
blinked again. What an odd man.
The man’s eyes
narrowed and he asked the question again, enunciating each word very carefully.
Matt noticed he had an accent, just barely there. “I asked you how much are
they paying you to work here.”
“I heard you,
sir. I was just making sure I heard you right.” Rude asshole. “I make minimum
wage plus tips, same as every waiter in this town. Are you always this
ill-mannered or am I just really lucky?”
To his surprise,
the man laughed, the sound low and rich. “Oh, you are a feisty one. Go tell
them you have been employed elsewhere and we will leave for my estate
immediately. I shall double your salary and of course room and board shall be
included. Wetthers will settle all the pesky details with you and the IRS as
necessary.”
Matt looked over
at the old guy. “Is he for real? I mean, dude, you need a waiter at home?”
The old man
seemed quite unperturbed by the goings on. “Master Drakon has made you an
offer, young man. If you wish to accept it, I can assure you that it is ‘for
real.’”
“Look, I’m not
an idiot or a whore. You come in and tell me to quit my job and come with you
without so much as sharing names, or you knowing more than I can walk and read
a chalkboard.” He shook his head, fingers moving to his side, his skin burning.
“I’m flattered, but no, thank you.”
The hot
one—Drakon—growled again and stood. “Well, if you change your mind and decide
you want to know about the handprint on your ass, maybe I’ll be willing to see
you.” Drakon patted his ass, but not right on, more to the side where his
birthmark was. With that, the man walked out.
The man named
Wetthers handed Matt a card with a stylized dragon on it and the words Drakon
Estates. There was a number beneath it. “If you change your mind. Be very sure
before you call.”
“Right. Thanks.”
He watched the guy leave and shook his head. “Fucking weird. You see that,
Jennie? That dude just propositioned me!”
“Weird.” Jennie
shook her head. “Glad he left before your shift was up. I hate waiting on
assholes.”
“Yeah.” He
nodded and pushed the card into his pocket. Real weird.
Guess he’d have
to go dancing tonight to work off the memory.
Whistling, he
went back to doing his side work, mind filled with music.
Royal Line
Sean Michael
Genre: Gay shifter romance
Publisher: All Romance eBooks
Date of Publication: 9/1/2016
ISBN: 978-1-945193-29-3
Word Count: 17000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill
Book Description:
Where’s the common ground between a tiger shifter foot soldier and his prince?
Grio has one job—find dormant tiger shifters and introduce them to the world of Saffron Tigers. When he finds Professor Phoenix Lamoure, he discovers that Headquarters got a couple of key points wrong. Phoenix isn’t actually a professor but Saffron Tiger royalty…a member of the lost royal line.
Phoenix didn’t have things easy growing up. His mother spent most of her life in a mental institution, and he spent his formative years in foster care. When a stranger approaches to learn about his family history, he’s wary. When said stranger actually kidnaps him, all bets are off!
Can he ever believe what Grio says? Or will he be forever convinced that he’s as crazy as his mother was?
Excerpt
Royal Line :
Grio sat in his
SUV, splitting his attention between the students walking across the quad and
the file in his hand.
Professor
Phoenix Lamoure. Actually, the guy was a TA, not a professor.
He was going to
have to ride Danny next time he spoke to the man. It wasn’t often that the
office sent out incorrect information, and he made the most of it when they
did. Of course he’d rib Danny privately. No need to get him in trouble with the
boss. Nigel didn’t have much of a sense of humor.
Phoenix Lamoure
was a tiger shifter like himself, even if the man didn’t know it yet. A lot of
shifters remained dormant and died never knowing what they really were.
The Saffron
Tigers, though, they were nearly extinct, so they didn’t have the luxury of
letting their kind discover themselves, or not. Headquarters searched out
potential weres and Grio—or Janey or Tuplo—were sent to flush them out.
Grio looked at
the file again, examining the black-and-white image closely to make sure he’d
recognize Phoenix when he saw the man.
There were only
one hundred and nineteen Saffron Tigers left and they needed numbers, needed
safety. Needed each other.
Phoenix wasn’t
your typical Saffron Tiger. Instead of bulk and broadness, he was slender, the
little wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose adding an air of
fragility or delicateness that Grio imagined was quite false. Knowing it or
not, if Phoenix had tiger blood in him, he would be fierce when he had to be.
A small group of
students walked by, a shock of unmistakable bright red hair hitting his eyes.
Jesus. This one wasn’t just a Saffron. He was descended from the royal line.
How had he
missed that? He checked the file again. Grainy black-and-white photo from some
old high school yearbook. No wonder. Not only that, the file made no mention
that this one was a royal.
Slipping out of
the SUV, Grio closed the door silently, then quietly stalked his prey.
The two girls in
the group of six headed off toward the parking lot, and he heard, “Nixie? You
want to grab a pizza and a beer?”
“I don’t know. I
have papers to grade…”
Grio considered
his options. He could follow Phoenix to somewhere quiet, or he could “bump
into” the man now.
“Come on, man.
All you do is work,” wheedled the young man.
Phoenix gave a
snort. “If you were Dr. Lee’s TA, you’d work, too.”
Dr. Lee. That
was more information than Grio’d had a moment ago. He decided to wing it.
“Excuse me, did
you say you were Dr. Lee’s TA?”
“I did, yeah.”
Eyes that were pure gold met his, warm behind the wire-rimmed glasses. “Can I
help you?”
“Yes, I had a
few questions for you. Is there somewhere we could go and talk?” Grio gave
Phoenix his best and most earnest smile.
The Moon
Sean Michael
Genre: Gay shifter romance
Publisher: All Romance eBooks
Date of Publication: 9/1/2016
ISBN: 978-1-945193-30-9
Word Count: 18000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill
Book Description:
The first full moon is always the hardest.
Danny McMann has been busy on pack business for weeks and just wants to spend the upcoming full moon deep in the woods with his pack—running, hunting, napping and generally goofing off. The last thing he wants to hear is that they’ve got another man on their hands who’s been bitten and about to turn with the arrival of the full moon.
Hammond Argyle was bitten by his assailant in a bar fight a few weeks ago. He’s been in a foul mood ever since and it’s only getting worse. As is the way his skin itches and feels like it doesn’t fit him anymore. When someone starts lurking round, following him, it’s about all he can take.
Will Danny be able to help Hammond through his first change and beyond?
Excerpt
The Moon:
Hamm was going
out of his fucking mind. He was itchy, like all over, scratch his skin right
off to make it better itchy. Speaking of skin, his didn’t fit right, either.
And it was getting worse. It was getting so he was going to take someone’s head
off soon, just for talking to him. Not only that, now some asshole was
following him.
Growling—literally
fucking growling—he cut through the park. The form that had been following him
for hours, staying far enough back that Hamm couldn’t focus on him, moved with
him. And when he stopped it disappeared entirely, so he couldn’t even go
confront the guy.
Between that and
the not feeling right in his skin, he was on the very edge of doing something
desperate. He wasn’t sure exactly what, but it was going to happen soon.
He scratched his
shoulder. He’d been bitten—fucking bitten!—during a fight. This dude had
attacked him and he held his own, even though the guy was viciously strong. He
hadn’t even done anything to provoke the attack, goddamn it. It was weeks ago,
but he’d been on edge since then. And the goddamn bite was still aching like it
was festering, even though it looked well enough healed when he checked it in
the mirror.
If Hamm went by
how his luck had been going lately, the guy following him was the same guy
who’d bitten him, coming back for more. Just what he fucking needed. Goddamn.
He was almost
through the park when he stopped and turned abruptly, ready to run and confront
his stalker, hoping the element of surprise would keep the guy from
disappearing into the shadows this time. And he’d be goddamned if it didn’t
work.
The guy—because
it was a lean guy with a shock of dark auburn hair—was right there, bright gold
eyes shining at him.
“You better have
a fucking good reason for being on my ass.” He snarled out the words, not
willing to take any guff, even though the guy was hot. And where had that
thought come from? He was itchy and out of sorts, goddamn it, not looking to
flirt, or even admire silently.
“I came to
help.” The words were low, oddly calming.
“What?” He took
a step back, startled by the answer and by the way it the man’s voice seemed to
diffuse some of his anger.
“I came to help.
You’re itching. I can help.”
Who was this
impertinent kid?
“How do you know
that?” he demanded. He hadn’t told a soul what had happened or how he was
feeling.
“I can smell it
on you.” How did this lean little thing not seem scared of him at all?
“Are you saying
I smell?” He wasn’t sure if that made him more annoyed or not.
“Everyone
smells.”
“Then why the
fuck would you— You know what? Forget it. Just stop, okay?” He didn’t need
this. “I don’t fucking know you from Adam, so get off my ass.”
“I’m Daniel.
Daniel McMann.” One hand was held out, the confidence pouring off the man.
He answered
automatically, even though he’d had no intention at all of giving this Daniel
who’d been following him all day long his name. “Hammond Argyle.” And since
when did he lose control of situations? Ever since he’d been fucking bitten,
that’s when.
Daniel smiled at
him. “That is a fabulous name, my fellow Scot.”
Hamm actually
chuckled. That was not the reaction he usually got. “Thanks.”
He finally,
begrudgingly, took Daniel’s hand, electricity slamming through him at the
contact. He yanked his hand back, starring. “What the fuck? Did you feel that?”
Daniel nodded,
blinked as if dazed, as if this had finally fazed the little fucker. “That’s
never happened before.”
Surprisingly,
that actually made Hamm feel better. “Shake a lot of strangers’ hands, do you?”
“Well, sure. But
you’re not a stranger. You’re just a mate I haven’t met yet.”
Okay, so this
guy was a little out there. His best course of action was probably to extricate
himself from Daniel’s company as painlessly as possible. Instead, Hamm found
himself saying, “Sure. Sure. So why were you following me?”
“I told you. I
came to help. You were bitten. It’s my job to help with it.” Daniel said it as
if that explained everything.
“Are you a cop?
Do you guys have a…a lead?” Could the cops be looking into something he hadn’t
actually reported? Maybe someone at the bar had phoned in an anonymous tip or
something.
“I’m a… Well,
I’m like a guidance counselor in the loosest sense of the word.”
Hamm stared at
the guy. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” There were words
and they seemed to be forming sentences, but Hamm couldn’t figure out what
Daniel was trying to tell him.
“I know. Come
have a drink with me?”
“I…” Hamm
hesitated, still not convinced this guy wasn’t a nutjob. On the other hand, he
felt better than he had in days, and that had started when he’d confronted
Daniel. Coincidence, right? Still… “Okay.”
“Cool. Where’s good?
I could use a snack, too.” This dude was bouncy as hell.
“There’s a pub
on the corner of the park.” Close enough to home, too, but Danny-boy didn’t
need to know that.
“Sounds perfect.
I’m ravenous. Nice park.”
“It’s…a park.”
Hamm started toward the Flying Pig.
“Nice mowed
grass. I live in the woods.”
Hamm looked
around. There was indeed lots of mowed grass, but also some trees that a couple
of paths meandered through. He shrugged again and grinned. “It’s a park.”
“Yep.” There was
a knowing, weirdly odd grin on the kid’s face.
This guy was
going to drive him crazy. Hamm could tell. He growled deep in his chest, like a
warning or something, but the kid just bounced along.
Hamm shook his
head. When he was feeling better, he’d show Danny who was boss. Whoa. When he
was feeling better, Danny was going to be in his rear view mirror, right?
Right. Hamm was not into long-haired twinks.
Feeling more
himself than he’d felt in long time, he held the door to the Pig open for
Danny.
Danny shot him a
smile. “Thank you.”
He swore, and
for a second he thought he saw a tail wagging on the end of Danny’s ass.
Shaking his head to clear it, Hamm nodded to Wilson behind the bar and pointed
out a booth at the back of the place to Danny.
“Perfect!” God,
this guy really was a nut.
Reviews:
Sean Michael is a master of his craft and I loved each of these books. His characters leap from the pages and practically breathe. The smexy tension is enough to scorch your e-reader and keep you up waaaaay past your bed time. *grin* You won't go wrong with these books if you enjoy mm romance.
5/5
About the Author:
Best-selling author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out in used bookstores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi, Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.
Sean fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.
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