Welcome to the World! OUT Now!! Three New Holiday Books by Pablo Michaels @pablomichaels1 ~ Release Blitz

Secret Santa
Buy
Little Old St. Nick
Buy
The Christmas Card
Buy
The Secret Santa
by
Pablo Michaels
(@pablomichaels1)
ISBN: 978-0-9943462-8-5
Buy links
Amazon     Ganxy     XinXii
Blurb:
 
Waking amidst a cloud of white powder, Devon cannot believe
what he beheld, an image of his childhood fantasy, a skimpily dressed hunk,
portraying Santa Claus. The Secret Santa, Erik, taunts Devon with erotic
gestures in conveying Santa’s message for Devon to be enlisted as a Secret
Santa. Devon must perform certain tasks to prove his love and loyalty to his
lover, Peter. Continuously appearing and vanishing in a shroud of white powder,
Erik guides Devon along his path to attain his goal. But Erik tempts him
sexually, especially when Devon is exercising to perfect his body for Peter on
Christmas Day. Devon attempts to tell Peter about the mysterious Secret Santa
but receives a disbelieving response. Through all the temptations and with
approach of the big day, how does Peter react to the surprise Christmas Eve
party which he did not want? Does Devon prove his love and loyalty to Peter?
Excerpt:
 
 Devon jolted awake
from a deep sleep. Opening his eyes, slowly, he focused through a plume of
twinkling, white powder to a stranger standing at the foot of the bed. He
thought he was imagining this six foot tall man, sculpted like a Greek god. His
head was adorned with a red and white Santa hat. His trimmed, snowy white beard
blended with the long hair cascading down to his ivory, cropped hairy chest.
Scrutinizing him more thoroughly, he realized he was not an apparition but
real. Devon’s penis surged into erection, as he stared at the fluffy, red
jockstrap, accenting the large bulge beneath. He couldn’t ignore the black
leather suspenders attached to the waistband of the Christmas themed loin cloth
and the shiny, dark, leather boots, stretching to his knees. He never imagined
Santa Claus would excite him as this man did.
“Who are you?” Devon gasped, accelerating his curiosity into
unfamiliar fantasies. 
“Don’t you recognize me, Devon?” The man bellowed a hearty
laugh.
“You look like the Santa Claus from my childhood memories.”
Devon mumbled, secretively.
“Have you given up on the true spirit of Christmas?” The
Santa Claus imposter smiled and sat at the edge of the bed next to Devon.  
Devon’s right hand brushed a few strands of his unruly hair
from his eyes. Becoming more alert, he focused his eyes more from the previous
distorted vision. He turned to wake Peter, but his partner was gone. 
“Peter left an hour ago.
Don’t you remember he had to work early?”
“How do you know our names?”
“You still don’t believe?” The man smiled, his sparkling,
cobalt blue eyes radiating erotic warmth.
“You can’t be the real Santa Claus,” Devon insisted.
“Why?”
“You’re just not. For one, you can’t be real.”
“Oh, I am real. Want to touch?” The man extended his
muscular arm within Devon’s reach.
Devon wrapped his two hands around his biceps. “Okay. So you
are real. Man, are you really real. But you are not Santa Claus.”
”Well…-no.  But I’m a
special assistant, assigned to help him.”
“You’re one of his elves, then?”
“No. Look at me. Do I really look like an elf?”
“Yeah right. You can’t be one of Santa’s elves. You’re too
big. And the size of that bulge beneath your very revealing jockstrap would
definitely eliminate you.” 
 “I’m a Secret Santa.
I was sent here to rekindle your love and happiness.” The secret assistant
edged closer, the bulge in his pouch becoming more pronounced.
“Did the real Santa Claus send you to seduce me?”
“Oh; no, no, no!
You’ve been selected to be a Secret Santa, like me.” He shimmied next to
Devon, until there was physical contact between them. “I’ll teach you how to
become a Secret Santa. I’ll reignite the fire of your passion with an
exceptional power found in a special recipe from the North Pole’s almighty
vault. Ultimately, Peter’s happiness will be restored.” He stooped, rubbing his
broad shoulders against Devon’s chest. He looked up at Devon and smiled.
“I’m getting aroused? This shouldn’t be happening, if you
were sent by the real Santa.”
“I’m only testing you, and your love for Peter. And to
evaluate your qualifications.” He set his hand on Devon’s thigh, massaging it,
firmly.
“A test? This is the worst temptation I’ve had in years.
What’s your name?”
“It will get easier,” he spoke softly, continuing to grope
his leg. “I’m Erik, of Nordic descent.”

Little Old St. Nick
Buy
Blurb:

“Is sex before dinner with Little Old St. Nick the true
meaning of Christmas?”
Jonathan and Prescott have a fairy tale relationship until one year when they
hit rock bottom. A last ditch effort by Prescott to decorate for the holidays
accompanied by their next door older neighbor’s kinky gifts and a Christmas
dinner. Jacob has the appearance of a little old ST. Nick. His efforts help
Jonathan and Prescott resolve their problems. Years later Jonathan has the same
opportunity to help their neighbors by playing the role of Little Old St. Nick.
Does sex before Christmas dinner play an important part of Christmas to Little
Old St. Nick?

 
Excerpt:
 
Jonathan and Prescott lived a fairy tale romance, especially
during the holiday season. They loved each other with devotion, never
expressing jealousy. They were both very handsome men and took pride in their
grooming, never to allow sloppiness to enter their lifestyle. Every year, they
celebrated Christmas and the holidays with unusual and exotic
festivities.   Jonathan studied the display of twinkling,
multi-colored lights he had strung on the on the Christmas tree. Looks good.
But lacks something. Ah, yes, the ornaments, of course. I’m so glad we
collected our ornaments from all over the world. They’re our memories of our
fabulous trips. I can remember where we got that hand-blown glass one. Let me
look for it. It was from Germany. The colors in it are so beautiful. It is so
amazing how the lights dazzle you as they reflect through it. He unwrapped the
ornaments, carefully setting them aside to hang, momentarily. Here it is. He hung
the ornament and watched the lights filter through the various hues of
glass.   Ah, yes. Just as I remembered it. He continued to hang the
ornaments on the tree.
   Upon finishing the decorating, Jonathan sat in
the windowsill, inspecting the tree for any empty spaces. He found the tree
adequately filled with enough ornaments. He turned and watched the snow fall on
the tall spruce tree in the front yard. It had cloaked the tree, the lights he
had strung almost disappearing. Our yard looks so nice, the tree lit up and the
eaves of the roof sparkling brightly with all the colors. It will be so nice to
have all our friends and family here for the party. Everyone seems to enjoy it.
I am so glad that the food we collected for the needy will help out this year. Times
have been rough and people need food, especially on Christmas. I hope Prescott
likes the presents I give him this year. It wasn’t easy finding things
original. I think he will be so hot in that see through jock strap. He has such
a nice dick. The way tapers to a big bulging crown when it’s hard. I love our
sexual romp in bed while the prime rib cooks for Christmas Day dinner. I love
the holidays. It’s so festive.
   He watched a UPS truck pull up. The man jumped
out with a bundle of packages for their neighbor across the street, Jacob. Our
Little Old St. Nick has been remembered. I wonder who started calling him that.
Prescott or me? But he does look like Santa. His little pot belly, that snow
white hair and beard. Even his eyes sparkle when he laughs. He’s such a dirty
old man, though. I love his stories with Rosa. He tells us everything that goes
on with her. Even their sexual escapades. He’s funny. He has certainly enjoyed
our Christmas dinners. I hope we have his strong sexual drive when we’re his age.
He made us laugh that time he gave us a box of condoms. He brings us mistletoe
each year and begs to watch us kiss. I suppose that is why we call him Little
Old St. Nick.   The UPS man drove his truck down the street. Jonathan
continued to watch the snow pile up again on the street, remembering their
Christmas morning event. First, we open our stockings. Then, we rush to the
Community Center and feed a hot meal to the homeless for the annual Christmas
Feast. We donate coats and sweaters.  We’re not quite as guilty for having
prime rib and spending money on lavish gifts for ourselves.
   But it was not always a season of joy and
harmony. Back in the first years of their relationship, they did not have it so
good. Jonathan was unemployed. They lived each day on a dwindling budget; they
barely had enough food for Christmas Day dinner.
The Christmas Card

Buy

Blurb:
Billie hands his partner, Glenn, his Christmas card, a
picture of them in scant underwear taken years before when their bodies were
younger. Billie requests they undress and get into the same underwear, depicted
on the cover of the card for a night of frolic. When the Christmas carols begin
to play on the stereo, Glenn is surprised by the four bartenders from the new
bar, My Man cave, holding large Christmas ornaments in front of their naked bodies
to assist in decorating for Christmas. The a little later, there is a knock at
the dining room door. The salesman from the Christmas tree lot delivers their
tree without any clothes. Finally, their hunky neighbor arrives in a Santa suit
to help celebrate in the festivities. Can Glenn hold out for the final
celebration in bed with Billie?

 

Excerpt:

 
“Open this and you’ll find out how I’m trying to be good
this year.” Billie handed Glenn an envelope.
Glenn opened a Christmas card. “Oh, no. This is the picture
of our first Christmas together. You were really devious that year. ” But he
was still suspicious of Billie’s intentions. “Where’d you find this picture?”
“Never mind. Why don’t you give me a kiss? Just like you did
under that mistletoe in the picture?”
“You have to wear some underwear like you did that
day.”
“That’s a definite possibility when we get home. But only if
you wear a red jockstrap.”
Glenn ignored his comment, studying the cover of the card
more carefully, while Billie paid the waiter.  
On the drive home from the restaurant, Glenn reminisced over
the first Christmas they had spent together fifteen years ago. Billie had hung
mistletoe from a eucalyptus tree limb in the backyard of the house. He knew
Billie had saved those Santa hats. They took pictures of each other, grasping a
branch that suspended horizontally, dressed in only red Santa hats and festive
underwear, Glenn in his red jockstrap and Billie in thin, red silky briefs. Of
course, that was many years before when they were much younger, very much in
love, and willing to do almost anything sexually bold.
“I suppose you hung mistletoe from a tree in our backyard?”
“No, but there is some hanging above the steps in the dining
room. We can take pictures again for our Christmas cards next year.” Billie
parked the car in front of their house.
“I don’t think so. Not at our age. I don’t think our friends
would be thrilled by me in a jockstrap.”
“You’d be surprised. You’re still very sexy.”
They walked into the house, everything was festive inside,
except the tree which had yet to be decorated.
“How much did you have to beg or do for whoever helped
you for your Christmas gift?” Glenn opened the card again. He remembered
the chill of the cold December air rushing around and through him, especially since
he had been dressed only in his seasonal, red and white jockstrap that first
Christmas. “I’m getting cold just thinking of that first Christmas.”
“Not a thing, when I said it was for you. Don’t you
think I’d be sizzling hot in a pair of underwear you like so much?” Billie
bragged about the low-cut red briefs he had worn that year, purposely to taunt
him. Glenn preferred the satin-smooth nylon fabric.  The thin silk-like
fabric aroused him. He liked to feel Billie’s dick hardening through the flimsy
underwear. “Yes, you would look enticing. I don’t believe your gift didn’t
cost anything.”
“I’ll be right back.” Billie interrupted him, escaping from
Glenn’s inquisition, rushing to their bedroom. He quickly shed all his clothes
and pulled out a pair of red boy shorts from the drawer in the dresser. The
material was thin and soft to the touch. I know he’ll like these. He slipped
them on and put on the familiar Santa hat. He pulled out a red jockstrap for
Glenn and placed it on the bed next to the other Santa hat.
As he entered the living room, Billie flaunted his attire.

 

About the Author:

 

Pablo Michaels
disguised himself as a shy, friendly heterosexual during his adolescence,
fantasizing other males. Falling in love with another man his first year in
college, he followed him to another university to maintain their platonic love,
while he continued in his in studies. When he had his first sexual encounter
with another man, just before turning twenty-one, he exploded into gay life
with lust and anger. He attempted to live his new life naturally, seeking love,
ignoring the statistics of the books he read on homosexuality in high school,
and proving what he had read was wrong.

He wrote poetry and
stories since third grade. When he turned twenty-one, he moved to San Francisco
to work and write, experiencing more of gay life. In the 1980’s he wrote every
chance he had, trying and failing miserably at publishing mainstream fiction.
He published his first story in 1986 in a literary magazine.
After writing plays,
short stories, poetry, and two novels, he began writing gay genre stories,
since he had more knowledge and experience with gay lifestyle. Trying to
publish, he went to a library seminar hosted by two published authors. Inspired
by the gay writer, Scott Kemble he connected with him on the internet site for
The San Francisco Bay Area Literary Arts Newsletter and Review, which published
four of Pablo’s short stories.
Feverously writing
since 2004, he published his first e-book, “Pagan Knights of Cambria“ with Life
of Riley Productions in London. Soon a mainstream story, “When Johnny
Comes Marching Home Again Hooray”, published also. In 2012 Pablo
self-published his first novel, “Catnip, Rosemary, Rage and Time”,
combining mystery and humor in a gay, erotic romance. He continues to write
more episodes in his next novel, The Deer in the Forest The plot spreads over
several decades, about a man’s attempts to adapt to the world he lives, all
with love, heartache, history and survival at no cost. 
His latest article, Why
Gay Men Retire to Palm Springs, was just published in the very popular
SimplySxy.com online magazine. You can read the insightful article here. http://simplysxy.com/articles/2015/06/08/why-gay-men-retire-to-palm-springs/ 
Pablo retired from gardening
and landscaping to devote his energy to write fiction. As a gay man he wishes
to promote his writing in the fictional, gay genre to help others understand
the necessity for equal rights for LGBT people and comprehend that love between
a man and a man, people of the same sex, is as natural as love between a man
and a woman. Throughout his lifetime he has experienced the long battle of
achieving acceptance. He has searched for a committed relationship with another
man. He has loved his partner for eighteen years. They were married legally in
front of Harvey Milk’s bust in the rotunda of San Francisco City Hall by a
judge, in 2008. Although their marriage remained legal after the passage of
Proposition 8, they continued to work to repeal DOMA and Prop. 8. Throughout
his life he has attempted to live and practice peace as a process for living.
His book, Blood, Sweat
and Black Leather, a gay paranormal romance, was published by Yellow Silk
Dreams in January 2015. His Latest book, Affairs of Men’s Hearts, published in
May 2015 by Yellow Silk Dreams is an anthology of four stories connected by the
themes of gay men seeking love with another man, from wishful thinking male to
male romances to gay marriage.
 
Your Comments Encourage
 Thank
you 
 °*”˜˜”*° 
Please Feel Free to
Share

Live ~ Laugh ~ Love

with Passion
 
 
 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s