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Guest Author Wednesday’s ♥ M.J. O’Shea

Hello everyone! I’m ecstatic to have the wonderful Romance Author M.J. O’Shea with me today. Please say hi and leave her a comment or two below.

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M.J. grew up, and still lives, in sunny Washington state and while she loves to visit other places, she can’t imagine calling anywhere else home. M.J. spent her childhood writing stories. Sometime in her early teens, the stories turned to romance. Most of those stories were about her, her friends, and their favorite cute tv stars. She hopes she’s come a long way since then . . .

When M.J.’s not writing, she loves to play the piano and cook and paint pictures, and of course read. She likes sparkly girly girl things, owns at least twenty different colored headbands, and she has a little white dog with a ginger eye spot who sits with her when she writes. Sometimes her dog comes up with the best ideas for stories…when she’s not busy napping. She’s a relatively new author, but the great folks over at named her as one of the new M/M authors who rock in 2010.

Today MJ has offered to share with us a little from her upcoming book A Little Bite of Magic. I love the premise and can’t wait for this to be released later this month from Rooster and Pig Publishing!

In a family full of powerful witches, Frankie Vallerand is the black sheep. He doesn’t care about honing his magic. All he wants is to open up a restaurant and spend his days serving up delicious food. But when he sees a customer crying and wishes for her to be happy, he inadvertently transforms his old wooden soup spoon into a wand, and realizes that maybe a little bit of kitchen magic is just what his customers need.

Addison Allbright is The Phantom Foodie, an anonymous food critic notorious for his scathing reviews. For most people, being paid to eat would be a dream job. Not for Addison. He doesn’t care for overpriced designer food. He’s a tea and toast kind of guy. Until both the food and the owner of L’Osteria Di Pomodoro sweep him off his feet and throw his neat, orderly life completely off-kilter.

Frankie isn’t sure how to tell Addison he’s a witch, or that he charmed Addison’s food the night they first met, without sounding totally crazy. But Addison has secrets too. Not only did he snark Frankie’s restaurant in his last review column, he’s also engaged to be married… to a woman.


“What is this place?” Frankie squinted at the sign over the door.
“There’s wine here, you’ll like it, quit asking questions.” Dom pushed Frankie through a swinging glass-paned door into the clinking warmth of the bar. “Mmm, something smells fantastic. Whatever it is, I want it.”
“C’mon, let’s go sit at the bar.”
The bar was dark and romantic, candle-thrown shadows flickering sexily. It was mostly filled with men—there were women, in a group by the corner, a couple clearly on a date, and one hanging on the arm of a guy who was looking Frankie up and down like he might want to lick him. Frankie wasn’t interested. Anyone who looked at him like a juicy hunk of steak wasn’t his guy.
He sat at the bar with Dom, who ordered a chardonnay and scanned the room.
“What are you looking for? You’re making me nervous.” Frankie chuckled softly, but it was true. Dom’s behavior had him on edge.
“There’s this guy I met at the market last week. He said he comes here Friday nights sometimes.”
Frankie snorted. “Oh, now I see. I’m a safety blanket. Thanks, dude.”
Dom elbowed Frankie. “I’m looking out for both of us! I thought maybe you could get some action too. Exactly how long has it been?”
“Shut up.” Frankie rolled his eyes.
“That’s what I thought. Beaujolais?”
Dom flagged the bartender down and ordered Frankie’s glass and a basket of herbed cheese straws. Frankie sipped at the wine and slouched on his stool. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he’d sat still. It was the first night he’d let himself take a break from the restaurant since it had opened. They usually closed right after dinner, but he stayed late doing accounting, working on recipes. It really never ended. L’Osteria’d had a good first two months, despite the harsh review from The Chronicle’s critic The Phantom Foodie, which had deflated him for days.
Even though things had gone well so far for the most part, Frankie was bone-deep exhausted. It would’ve been nice to flirt with a guy, or perhaps even more, but the effort wouldn’t be worth the—
“Hi, can I please have another glass of the Chateau Ste. Michelle Pinot Grigio?”
Frankie felt him without even turning around. Seriously. Whether it was his hereditary sixth sense or just a strong reaction to that sexy molasses voice, Frankie’s entire body burst into waves of pleasure. He inhaled and picked out something woodsy and fresh, with a touch of sandalwood…and saltwater? He saw candles flickering in a beach house and flashes of sleeping in with the window open so salt air could flow in over their naked backs…wait a second. Their? What the—?
Frankie had to turn around. He ditched Dom in the middle of a sentence and swiveled in his stool to come face-to-face with the palest set of blue eyes he’d ever seen. The other man looked surprised. Frankie was as well. He hadn’t meant to get right in the stranger’s face. But that was the odd part—the man didn’t feel like a stranger. Frankie didn’t know him, was pretty sure he’d never even seen him before, but those eyes. They were so…
“Hello,” Frankie said. He mentally chastised himself for such a lame opener.
“Um, hi.” Blue eyes smiled hesitantly. His awkwardness made Frankie melt.
“What’s your name? I’m Frankie.” He stuck out his hand. Frankie could’ve been accused of lots of things, but shyness wasn’t one of them. Good thing, because the gorgeous guy who smelled like heaven looked like he had his voice stuck in his throat.
“Addison,” he finally choked out. “My name is Addison.” Then he reached his hand out to shake Frankie’s.
The touch felt like a puzzle piece falling into place. Perfect. He saw the possibility of how good it could be between them all in a flash in that one odd moment—the house he’d never seen, sleepy Sunday mornings in bed kissing, a dalmatian curled at their feet. A dalmatian? Frankie smiled. He’d always wanted a dog. He wanted all of it.
Addison looked at him with wide eyes. Frankie shook out of his momentary cloud. He didn’t want to scare this one away.
Frankie cleared his throat. “Addison, huh? That’s unique.”
He got a wry smile for his efforts. “Sometimes I hate my mother.”
Frankie laughed. He couldn’t help it. That low voice was sexy and self-deprecating, and he wanted to hear more. “Me too.” He gestured at himself. “Francois.”
They chuckled together. The bartender brought Addison his wine, and Frankie panicked for a moment. Shit. Come up with something brilliant so he doesn’t walk away. Frankie turned to Dom, but he’d disappeared while Frankie was busy trying to get his pounding heart to calm down.
“Your friend is over there.” Addison pointed. “Were you looking for him?”
Frankie followed his gesture. “Oh.” He chuckled. “Looks like Dom is busy. Do you want to sit here for a while?” He hoped that sounded casual. Really, Frankie wanted to hog tie the guy to the bar and kiss him breathless.
“Sure.” He got another one of those hesitant smiles. “So, um, Frankie, what do you do?”
“I’m a chef.”
Addison looked a bit uncomfortable at that. What’s wrong with being a chef? “Where do you work?”
“You’ve probably never heard of it. Little place. L’Osteria Di Pomodoro. It’s in Cole Valley, right by the Haight.”
“O-oh. I’ll have to check it out.” Addison turned pink.
Frankie smiled at his awkwardness. It was adorable. Addison had to be at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight, but he acted like a bumbling teenager. Frankie loved it. Made him feel experienced.
“I think I can arrange that,” he replied with a smile. “What do you do?”
“I work at a newspaper. The Chronicle.”
He was lying about something. Or evading. Frankie could easily tell. His face turned red and he looked at the counter. Why he was lying wasn’t so apparent. Maybe he just worked in the mail room or something and was embarrassed by his grunt job. Frankie nodded and let the topic go. He didn’t want to do anything to make Addison walk away.
It took Frankie an hour or so, and a few more glasses of Pinot, to get Addison to loosen up. Once he did, they had a great time talking. Frankie wasn’t surprised. Addison was flirty and had a sharp, sarcastic sense of humor that Frankie loved. They talked wine and food and San Francisco versus Louisiana. Addison told him his Southern accent was sexy. Frankie blushed, which he hadn’t done in years. They shared the basket of cheese straws and another of fried zucchini with a creamy pesto dip. In between comments to Addison, Frankie decided he was going to have to experiment with something pesto based soon. He hummed around a mouth full of zucchini. Addison smiled and handed him another.
“Don’t you like it?” Frankie asked. He suddenly realized he’d eaten far more than half of the crunchy-soft zucchini slices.
“I think I might be in the mood for dessert,” Addison answered with a wink.
Frankie moaned. He wondered if Addison had any idea how dirty he’d just made that sound. God, he’s hot.
“I think I can arrange that . . . 


Coming Home

Tallis Carrington ruled Rock Bay with his gang of jocks and an iron fist—until a scandal destroyed his family’s name. Ten years later Tallis is dead broke, newly homeless, and on the walk of shame to end all walks of shame. He needs money and needs it fast, and Rock Bay is the only home he knows. But the people of Rock Bay haven’t forgotten him—or the spoiled brat he used to be.

The only person in town willing to overlook his past is Lex, the new coffee shop owner, who offers Tally a job even though he appears to despise Tally based on his reputation alone. When Tally discovers his gorgeous boss is the kid he tortured back in high school, Lex’s hot and cold routine finally makes sense. Now Tally has to pull out all the stops to prove he was never really the jerk he seemed to be. After all, if he can win Lex’s heart, the rest of the town should be a piece of coffee cake.