Hi guys, we have Sean Michael popping in today with the upcoming release The Luckiest Master, we have a short guest post and a great excerpt, so check out the post and enjoy! <3 ~Pixie~

The Luckiest Master

Sean Michael

When Master Damien Richardson (Day to his friends) takes over the front desk manager job at the Iron Eagle Gym, he knows he’s going to need an assistant. But finding the right person for the job is harder than he thought it would be. When he meets Saw, he thinks he’s found the solution to all his problems, and maybe something more.

Sawyer Whitehead lost his master to a tragic car accident some years ago, and since then one opportunity after another has gone sour on him. Thoroughly convinced he’s cursed and a jinx to everything and everyone he touches, he refuses to officially become Day’s assistant because he knows that as soon as he does, something terrible will happen. He’s even more determined not to get involved with Day, despite his attraction, because it would kill him to be responsible for tragedy befalling the lovely man.

Day must convince Saw that he’s not cursed and that together, they can face any challenge that comes their way—in both their professional and personal partnerships.

Getting Lucky

By Sean Michael

One of the characters in The Luckiest Master believes he’s the bringing of bad luck, that he’s jinxed. Saw has plenty of evidence to back his beliefs up, too.

To begin with, his master was in a car accident and died, leaving Saw, who is into service, all alone and no one to take care of. He was left with a lot of money, though, and decided to open the stationary store he and his Master had always dreamed of owning. Unfortunately, it didn’t make any money and he had to close it. In fact, every business and relationship he’s touched since the death of his Master has ended in disaster.

So when Master Day asks him to accept the position as Day’s assistant, Saw refuses – after all, he likes the gym and would hate to have anything happen to it because he was employed there. He’s even more adamant that he won’t date Master Day, for the same reason.

I don’t really believe in luck myself. It all started in seventh grade when we had an exam on Friday the 13th and everyone said how it was bad luck. Well, I got a perfect score on that exam. Ever since then, I’ve looked forward to Friday the 13ths! The only thing I avoid is walking under ladders. However, that is less to do with it being bad luck and more to do with my worrying something from above is going to fall on me or I’m going to accidentally knock the ladder over.

What about you? Do you believe in luck?

Excerpt

“SAW, HONEY?”

Saw looked over at Bran, found a warm smile for the guy. “What’s up?”

“Are you still looking for a job? I know you’d said you were interested in finding something.”

He nodded, shook his head, then nodded again. It wasn’t about the money. He had that, thanks to Tim’s trust. He’d tried to run his own business, a gorgeous little stationery store, which had failed miserably. Then he’d worked as a secretary and been laid off, and he’d been hired at a small boutique that closed before he even started. He was like the kiss of death.

Sometimes literally.

“There’s a position here, assistant manager.”

“Oh God no. I like it here.”

Bran gave him a strange look. “Well, that’s the idea, right? It would be fun to work here.”

“Yeah, but….” No one wants to work with me. I’m cursed. “I’ll talk to the manager.”

“Have you met him yet?”

“No. I will.” Running. He was running.

Bran hit the cooldown button on Saw’s machine. “You should go talk to him. He’s interviewing this week.”

“Butthead.” If Bran wasn’t a good guy. “You don’t get to shorten my run.”

“You’ve been on for over an hour.”

“Oh. Well, I’m training.”

“To do what, Saw? Take over the world?”

“Possibly.”

Bran laughed and put a hand in front of his machine so he couldn’t change it from the cooldown mode.

“He’s cute,” Bran said suddenly.

“Yeah?” That made him smile. “Horndog.” He could tease because he knew, 100 percent, that Bran only had eyes for his master.

“I was looking for you,” Bran protested.

Bran laughed, though, proving that he knew Saw wasn’t serious.

“Oh, I’m not interested, honey. You know that.” He wasn’t in the market for cute or otherwise.

Bran sighed. “You should be, honey. You’ve been alone for long enough. Tim wouldn’t want you to be alone the rest of your life.”

He supposed he knew that in his head.

“No, he wouldn’t.” But that didn’t matter anymore. He was alone, and that was that. Still, he missed Tim, missed being a part of something bigger than himself.

A handsome man came over as they continued walking together, cooling down. He was tall and muscled and carried himself like a total master.

His long hair was tied back in a tail, and he had dark green eyes.

“Hey, Bran. Are you sure you don’t want the assistant job?” the man asked.

“Master Tyrone says I’m too busy. Have you met Saw? He’s looking for work.”

The man’s eyes went wide, so the obvious answer to that was that while they might not have met, the guy had heard of him. The bad-luck-charm sub. God.

“Bran, honey, don’t put the man on the spot, huh?” He shook his head, eyes down.

One hand touched the back of his, grabbing his attention. “I was expecting an old man, actually, from what I heard.”

“A what? I’m not….” Was he? He looked to Bran. “I’m not old.” Was he? It was all he could do, not to go see if there was gray in his short white-blond hair.

“No. No, you’re not at all. I think the twinks who work the front desk think anyone over twenty-one is ancient.” The man smiled at him. “First of all, I’m sure I’m older than you. Second of all, you look fabulous. Not old, but not a baby twink either. That’s a very good thing.”

“I haven’t been a baby anything for a long time, I suppose.”

“I, for one, prefer the maturity of a man over twenty-one. Baby twinks are a fractious lot. So you’re interested in the front desk assistant manager job?” The guy held out his hand. “I’m Day, by the way.”

“Sawyer Whitehead. Everyone calls me Saw.”

He slowed the treadmill some, shook the man’s hand. “My full name is Damien Richardson, but every calls me Day. Too many Omen jokes growing up to use anything but that.”

Master Day had a warm hand, a firm shake.

“Pleased to meet you.” He didn’t know what to say, and Bran had disappeared like smoke. “Did you not find an applicant you liked?”

“Nope. They all come in with their list of demands before they’ve even heard the parameters of the job. It’s very frustrating.” Master Day rolled his eyes. “They don’t make subs like they used to.”

He actually chuckled, the sound bursting from him, surprising himself.

Master Day grinned at him, looking enchanted. “What a great laugh.”

“Thank you. I’d be happy to help you for a few weeks if you’d like. Nothing formal, just a hand.” The offer surprised him, but he was honest about it. Maybe that would make it okay.

“Oh, that would be fantastic. I can’t promise I won’t do everything I can to turn it into something permanent if you’re good at it.”

“Oh, that would be a terrible idea, but I’ll help you for a while.” Until he could be replaced.

“What would make it a terrible idea?” Master Day asked.

The treadmill beeped, warning him it was slowing again as his cooldown continued.

“Oh, I’m…. Here, let me get in the shower and I’ll come down and you can chat with me about what you need, okay?”

“It’s a date. And take your time. I’ve got an amazing to-do list.” Master Day grinned and headed off.

Saw chuckled again and headed into the shower to strip down and get clean. Bran was right, Master Day was good-looking. He wasn’t the muscle man Bran’s master was, but he clearly did okay for himself.

It didn’t matter, Saw reminded himself. He wasn’t looking.

He cleaned himself quickly but thoroughly and made short work of drying off and getting dressed. He felt bad because he was just in a sweater and a T-shirt, but he hadn’t known anyone was going to say anything to him.

“Can I help you?” the front desk clerk asked as he approached.

“I-I’d like to speak to Master Day, please.”

“Master Day?” The lad turned toward Master Day, who was in the little office at the back. Master Day saw him and smiled, waved him in.

“Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He went in, managing a real smile of his own. “Good afternoon.”

Master Day stood and shook his hand again. “Hi. Thanks for coming in.”

“You’re welcome. I’ve been a member since the beginning. I quite love it here.”

“Oh how cool. Did you know that makes you an even better candidate for the job—you know the history of the place.”

“Not taking the job. Helping until you find a replacement.” He wasn’t going to destroy the Eagle.

“Right, right. It’s still a plus.” Master Day gave him a wink. “What kind of qualifications do you bring?”

“I’ve worked the front desk of a hotel; I was a sub for a long time; I owned a stationery store.”

“A stationery store? Like letters and cards and pens?”

“Yes, sir.” It had been an awful idea, but at least he’d tried, right?

“How neat. You’ll have to tell me all about it some time. So what do you know about the job?”

“I know that Bran was working himself half to death dealing with all the scheduling and paperwork, the orders, etc.”

Master Day nodded. “God knows this job is bigger than one man. I think it’s bigger than two, actually, but two would be a start.”

“Well, how can I help?” He didn’t have anything to do really, not until tomorrow morning when he came in to run.

“I need to figure out what all this paperwork is about. It needs filing as well. And if you could answer phone calls and e-mails and texts from, well, everyone, that would be a huge help.”

He chuckled softly, nodded. “Paperwork, filing, phone calls, e-mails, and texts. I’m on it.”

“Excellent. And if you don’t burn the place down, I’ll take you out for a late dinner as a thank you.”

“Burn the place down?” His eyes went wide.

“Yes, you know the expression? I was just teasing….”

“Oh!” He chuckled, his cheeks heating. “Of course. Sure. Yes. I’ll just get to work.”

About Sean

Best-selling author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out in used book stores. 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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