Paint on the Canvas
Love on the Line Book 2 by Lynn Michaels Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance
A life-changing sacrifice for art and love.
Daltrey Boxbaum is an artist, a lover, an addict, and more. Through the years, he finds and loses love, fights addiction, and defines himself in new ways.
Martin Hannan was the love of Daltrey’s life, the son of a world-famous Silicon Valley developer and tycoon. Left behind to fight his own battles, Martin’s reappearance in Daltrey’s life turns the stable world he’s worked so hard for inside out.
Note: Love on the Line books can be read in any order, but best fits the numbered order.
Then it was time.
I waited in my hotel room, practically jumping around like some kind of crazed lunatic. A part of me wanted to rush down to the lobby so I could jump him the second my eyes captured him, but I didn’t want the rest of the world to witness our reunion. I grabbed my arms, hugging myself, willing myself to find some calm but unable to relax until there was a knock at the door. It was Martin.
The world stopped.
I took a long, deep breath, forcing air into my lungs, then blew it out slowly, and opened the door.
I couldn't believe my eyes were gazing over Martin's body so brazenly, but he looked fabulous. In so many ways, he was still the hot teen I fell in love with so many years ago, but in so many ways, he was completely different. I'd drawn and painted his face a million times, and yet here he was in front of me—live and in person—it was almost overwhelming. His soft, blue eyes held so much pain and sorrow that hadn't been there when we were kids, and I decided I would do almost anything to remove that from them. I wished I could pour turpentine over his heart and paint over it in colors of my love and my heart that had cried out for him so many times over the years.
I was in his arms as if I’d never left them.
A strange warmth flowed through me, settling things I hadn’t known had been out of place.
“I almost can't believe this,” Martin said, pulling me out of my musings.
It had been so easy for me to live in my head and ignore the real world, but I didn't want to do that to him. I wanted to live in the moment and enjoy every second of it. After all, I had no idea how this would go or how long we'd have together. Life had already shown us that.
Lines on the Mirror Love on the Line Book 1
Martin has always done everything his parents ever asked, never making waves, but never learning how to say no either. Then his new partying neighbors introduce him to a different lifestyle that pushes his limits.
The only thing keeping him grounded is getting back in touch with his first love, Daltrey, who moved across the country when they were still teenagers. Now, he's a successful artist and plays by his own rules. He wants Martin but won't compromise his morals.
When Martin lets his new friends drag him down until he hits bottom, can he ever find his way back to Daltrey and take control of his life?
Note: Love on the Line books can be read in any order.
I woke up late and rolled over, throwing my pillow on the floor. I didn't have a headache, but my brain still felt foggy. Nothing a good cup of coffee couldn't cure. I staggered into my kitchen to start up my pot, thankful that I had milk and sugar this time.
Running my fingers through my hair, I thought about the party and Alec kissing me. It had been nice. Alec made me feel wanted. Wendy had too. She had danced with me, even after Alec had put his arm around my shoulder and kept it there. I liked them and should have...should have what?
Shaking my head, I poured my coffee, adding the coveted milk and sugar, and sipped it, walking back into the dining room and sitting at the table. I opened my laptop, and Daltrey's profile picture popped up on the screen, right where I'd left it.
His number was still in the pocket of my slept-in jeans. He had been everything to me. There wasn't really a decision to be made. I needed to rule my own life and do the things I wanted to do and to hell with anyone else. I picked up my cell and dialed the number.
A female voice answered on the third ring. "Daltrey Boxbaum's office. How can I help you?" Girlfriend? No way. Daltrey was gay like me. Wasn't he?
"Uh... Yes. I'd like to speak with Daltrey." My voice shook with fear.
"Sorry, he's unavailable. Can I help you?" she sang back at me lyrically.
"No, uh, it's personal." What was I going to say? I should have taken more time to think things out.
"I'm Jenny Heathers, his personal assistant. I may be able to help." Her voice sounded a little flatter this time, frustrated.
I let out a long breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Can you give him a message? Tell him I called?"
"Martin Hannan. H-a-n-n-a-n, Hannan." I spelled my name, maybe out of habit. Then gave her my cell number.
"Okay, Martin. I'll tell him. Have a great day."
Well, at least I didn't think she was his girlfriend. Maybe.
Lynn Michaels lives and writes in Tampa, Florida where the sun is hot and the Sangria is cold. When she's not writing she's kayaking, hanging with her husband, or reading by the pool. Lynn writes Male/Male romance because she believes everyone deserves a happy ending and the dynamics of male characters can be intriguing, vulnerable, and exciting. She has both contemporary and paranormal titles and has been writing since 2014. Her stories don't follow any set guidelines or ideas, but come from her heart and contain love in many forms.
I recently read an article from Nora Roberts about her process. I found it interesting. So much was similar and so much was different. In a perfect world, I’d sit and write all day long, but I have a full time job outside of writing that severely limits my time. Luckily, I do this other job from home, so I have more time than I would if I had to commute. But for the record, here’s kind of how my process works.
First, I don’t believe in horoscopes, but I am a Gemini, which means everything is subject to change. In a second and without notice.
Second, I try, try, try (despite what Yoda says) to get up before seven every morning. I’m not a morning person. In fact, I think I have like a reverse sleeping disorder that makes getting up, no matter how long I’ve been sleeping (even up to ten hours), very difficult. The only thing getting me up is my love of writing. Like Nora, I’ve very happy if the hubster has already gone to the gym. Then I can grab coffee and head directly to my office without good mornings and chit chat. I can only work until nine, then it’s the day job, and eventually hubby will return home from the gym and interrupt me.
Despite my 16 oz Yeti, it take me time to wake up. The first half hour or so is spent doing promo and socializing. It’s important and sometimes difficult, and I often get too caught up in it.
When I do start, it’s not always actually writing. It could be story building or editing. It depend on where I am in the process, but ideally, with a new story, it starts with story building. Some call it outlining, but I think it’s bigger than that for me. It’s developing characters, settings, themes, and yeah – plot. I put it in an outline form of some kind, but honestly, it’s more a first draft. Or somewhere in between. It’s rough, ugly. It has shit grammar and punctuation. It’s often in first person and present tense (which I never write in). But its the basic story, characters, plot, setting, themes, and sometimes bits of dialog or action. More importantly, it’s on the paper.
Then I start over. At the top of page one and I write it all out, expanding, adding details, making it come alive (hopefully). That’s the real writing. After that it’s edit, edit, edit. When it’s perfect, I send it to either eXtasybooks or my own editor for my indie work. That’s my advice to any new indie author – pay an editor. No one is that good, not even Nora. She uses an editor and so does every published author and you need one, too.
Oh...and as far as the research and thinking or brain storming, it normally happens at different parts of the day and night where I can squeeze it in or on weekend. I do my writing a few hours in the morning Monday through Friday and a good chunk of the weekend. Forty hours at the day job. Wherever I can squeeze in anything else is a blessing.
That’s it. That’s what I do. I hope you enjoyed this peek into my writing-world. Have a super day!
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