There’s a flash sale today only at Dreamspinner Press. You can pick up any new release for 25% off list price. That’s including my brand new novel, Take Two!
Take Two is a sweet and funny story about getting a second chance at love. Some angst, some adventure, hot sex, and lots of silliness and romance.
Wesley’s a slightly uptight college history professor. Sam is a Hollywood superstar. Entirely different personalities, but they fit well together. At least they did until Sam’s career took him away from Wesley and their life in New York City. Wesley’s the first one to admit he still loves Sam, but his heart has just started to heal and he’s doing his best to move on. Sam, on the other hand, knows he wants Wesley back and he’s willing to grovel if he needs to.
Sam conspires to take a role in a less than D quality movie about a pirate that’s being filmed on location at the North Carolina coast, and manages to trick Wesley into consulting on the movie. But will Sam’s over the top antics to get Wesley back work? Maybe. Maybe not.
I hope Take Two will leave you with a big smile on your face! -Shira
Blurb: Shiver me timbers! When Professor Wesley Coolidge accepts a summer job as a historical consultant to a pirate movie being filmed in North Carolina, the last person he expects to bump into is his soon-to-be-ex, movie star Sander Carson. Just like the flamboyant pirate he’s playing, Sander, aka Sam Carr, is used to getting what he wants, and he makes it clear he wants Wesley back in his life.
Sam acknowledges it’s his fault they split up. He lost Wesley when he left their life in New York City behind for a career in Hollywood. But Wesley has finally managed to put the pieces of his heart back together, and he isn’t interested in Sam and Wesley: The Sequel. Sam soon realizes that convincing Wesley to give their relationship a second chance will take much more than apologies and reminders of good times past. If he wants Wesley back, Sam will have to show Wesley that they really can sail into the sunset together—a real-life happily-ever-after that won’t end once the final credits roll.
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/take-two-shira-anthony/1124416760?ean=2940156863518
Author Bio: Shira Anthony was a professional opera singer in her last incarnation, performing roles in such operas as Tosca, Pagliacci, and La Traviata, among others. She’s given up TV for evenings spent with her laptop, and she never goes anywhere without a pile of unread M/M romance on her Kindle.
Shira is married with two children and two insane dogs, and when she’s not writing, she is usually in a courtroom trying to make the world safer for children. When she’s not working, she can be found at the Carolina coast aboard Land’s Zen, a 35’ catamaran sailboat, with her favorite sexy captain at the wheel.
Shira can be found on:
Excerpt from Take Two:
The setup – The night before, Wesley realized Sam set him up. Wesley drank a little too much, and he wakes up on Bald Head Island where the film he’s agreed to consult on is being shot. He doesn’t really remember getting to the island, but he remembers what happened before he passed out….
When Wesley finally made his way to the sink to splash some cold water on his face, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and cringed.
Reminder to self: don’t drink when Sam is around. He repeated this thought several times as he trimmed his beard and mustache. Sam was dangerous enough without the booze.
Wesley made it downstairs a half an hour later, slightly less rickety after having showered and shaved. The smell of coffee grew stronger the closer he got to what he guessed was the kitchen. He walked through the living room into the kitchen and—
Wesley grabbed a countertop to steady himself as his heart slammed against his ribs and his head began to pound again. “Shit. Sam. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry.” Sam appeared only slightly remorseful.
“What are you doing here?”
“Making you coffee?” Sam offered Wesley a large mug, which Wesley took. The coffee smelled incredible, dark with a hint of chicory. Splash of milk, hint of sugar.
Of course he knows what kind of coffee you like—he made it for you every day for years.
“Thank you.” Wesley took a long sip. A few more cups and he’d feel human again.
“One step closer to your happy place?” Sam turned back to the stove.
Wesley ignored the question and drank some more. Sam had always been a morning person. He’d been a night person too, when Wesley really thought about it. Sam was always up. Always happy. Irritatingly so. Then again, if those were pancakes Sam was cooking, Wesley was inclined to forgive him his cheerfulness.
Sure enough, Sam handed him a plate full of Sam’s special sourdough flapjacks. A small bouquet of wildflowers at the center of the table created a burst of color in the otherwise white kitchen. Sam had probably picked them himself. The flowering stalks of rosemary interspersed with the blooms smelled really good.
Fuck. It was hard to complain when Sam was doting on him. “Sam, I really don’t need—”
“I’m just making sure you eat,” Sam said, pointing to the table.
Sam had always worried too much about him, like he was some delicate flower in need of protection. The reality was that Wesley had always been as healthy as a horse, and at six feet tall and 190 pounds, he was hardly a shrinking violet. Maybe compared to Sam’s six-foot-three-inch frame and 230 pounds of muscle, he wasn’t Superman, but…. “Sammy,” Wesley warned.
“I know, I know, I’m leaving,” Sam said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ve got an early makeup call anyhow. I just wanted to make sure you had something to eat.” He set the remaining flapjacks on the table.
Wesley repressed a sigh. “Thank you.” Whatever he and Sam were to each other—or weren’t—Sam was a good man.
“Someone will be by around ten to take you to the set.” Sam was out the door a second later. “See ya!”
Wesley rubbed the bridge of his nose and released a slow breath. If he was going to make it through the summer, he needed to relax. Sam was old news.
Wesley reached for one of the pancakes and nibbled his way around the crispy edge. Fuck. The man can cook. He sighed as he savored the soft interior, allowing the slightly sweet fluffiness to flood his mouth. Heaven. Okay, so Sam was old news, but Wesley could still enjoy the pancakes, couldn’t he?