Making A Splash by Sean Michael | Cat's Release day Review, Excerpt & #giveaway @Dreamspinners @seanmichael09

2nd Edition

After a scandal of Olympic proportions, Vince Dawson lost his job as a diving coach and is on a downhill slide. So when he sees Austin Brody at a local pool, diving like a trained athlete, he thinks he’s found his ticket back to the big leagues.

Austin thinks Vince is crazy for wanting him to dive competitively. He dives for beer and smokes, while working double shifts as a welder. Still, he’ll give training with Vince a shot.

But Austin isn’t willing to let Vince rule his life, and Vince—used to hopeful young athletes folding under pressure from him—finds Austin baffling… and hot. Even if they can work together and become more than friends, they still have a long way to go before they’ll be ready to compete.

First Edition published by Torquere Press, 2007.

Buy links: Dreamspinner | Amazon US | Amazon UK

Cat gives this one 3 Meows with a 5 Purr heat index...

Making a Splash is a very sexy story of a young man that loves diving and an older man that is an ex-coach. Austin is 23 , a welder and diabetic. He loves going to the lake and diving for beers. He doesn't realize his talent. Vince has a secret. He was a coach in the past and missed it. The moment he sees Austin he knows he has to have him in more ways than just a client. 

I loved the characters both Vince and Austin are interesting. What I loved most was the diabetes. I liked how the author showed us that a condition can be worked around. I was surprised at the ending as it hit suddenly. I wish there had been less sex and more on the diving career.

Excerpt...

“Oh, hell, yeah. I’m fixin’ to be twenty-four in December.”

“Awesome.” Old to be starting out, but it meant Austin was his own man. There would be no parents to convince to overlook his own unfortunate past. “So, which do you want to hear first—why I asked you here or why I haven’t worked in three years?”

“Oh, give up the dirt first. Unless you’re an ax murderer.” Austin’s eyes danced. “That’s even cooler than old work dirt.”

Lord, this kid was all balls. Cute as shit too.

“Not an ax murderer, no.” He leaned back, smiling at Austin’s aunt as she brought them a basket of rolls. He grabbed one and started buttering it. “I was working for the national team. Second-in-command. There was this girl. Real pretty, innate talent, but a bad attitude. I gave her her walking papers, and she accused me of molesting her.”

“Oh, fuck. That sucks. Did the cops come?” Austin bit into a roll, leaning back and shaking his head.

“Yep. Spent a few nights in a holding cell. Got fired. She eventually recanted, but by then the damage was done.” He shrugged. “You want to hear the punch line, Austin?”

“I reckon.”

Jenny put two beers on the table.

He waited until they were alone again. If this was going to be a problem, right up front was the time to find out. “I’m gay and they knew it.”

Austin’s head tilted. “And they still… but you said she was a she.”

He nodded. “Yeah. She spun some bullshit about how I used it as a cover so I could make time with all the girls. Can you believe that?”

“Uh. No.” Austin hooted, shook his head. “Shit. A guy fakes being gay to get chicks?”

“Yeah. And they bought it. I think that was the worst of it, you know? I was up front and open with them when a lot of people would have hidden it, and then it was used against me like that.” He shook his head. Man, he had to be crazy to be thinking of going back to that world.

Crazy or faced with the best fucking diver he’d ever seen.

“That’s insane. Utterly fucking cracked. So, you quit coaching then? What do you do now?”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “This and that. Nothing special. Nothing important.”

“Ah.” Austin nodded. “I hear that.”

“I guess the truth is that I’m meant to be a diving coach. It’s where I fit.” He leaned forward. “Like you’re meant to dive.”

He got a chuckle. “Yeah, it’s a helluva way to spend a Saturday.”

“A Saturday? What about the other six days?”

“Well, I work night shift. Sunday through Thursday. I sleep on Fridays, unless there’s overtime. Then I rake in the bucks.”

Vince shook his head. “You should be diving, Austin. And I should be coaching you. None of this other bullshit for either of us.”

“Oh.” Austin gave a little sigh, an odd little look. “I’m sorry. I don’t make enough to hire a coach and shit. Not for a hobby. I’m just a welder.”

“Now, see, this is why you need me. You don’t hire a coach and shit. The sponsors do. You get a coach who knows what he’s doing, and it’s all taken care of, and you can kiss the welding job goodbye.”

“I…. You’re fucking with me.”

“As enjoyable as that sounds, no.” He took a drink and sat forward again. “You wear their name on your gear, do some ads, show up at the occasional dinner and smile at their shareholders. In return they take care of the bills.”

“No one would want to spend money on me. I didn’t go to college. Not even junior college.”

That made him smile. “Schooling’s got nothing to do with it. It’s your diving that’ll bring in the money.”

 

A prolific author, Sean Michael takes notes dictated by the men who live in his head and shares their stories. Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the Kama Sutra by channeling the long-lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to Chicago. A long-time writer of complicated haiku, Sean is currently attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate-spinning and soap-carving sex toys. Barring any of that? He'll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark. To learn more about Sean, please visit: www.seanmichaelwrites.com.

• Smmmmmut: http://www.seanmicheaelwrites.com

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