Bethany reviews ‘Bad Elf, No Candy Cane’ by Sean Michael. (Published by Changeling Press LLC, December 15, 2014 26pgs)
Why I read this book: It looked like a cute short story that would be fun to read.
We were offered this book in exchange for an honest review.
When candy maker Syllabub runs away from the North Pole, Claus sends his best enforcer after the wayward elf.
Power is good at his job, but when he finds Syllabub in the sweltering heat of Ottawa in July, the last thing he wants to do is return to the North Pole.
Is there something between them? Or has the heat gone to Power’s head? Only time will tell.
This book is 26 pages of pure hotness. When we were offered this book, after I read the blurb, I thought this would be a fun read. And after reading a few of Sean Michaels books I was betting it would be HOT. Boy was I right.
Power is a gorgeous bounty hunter sent by the big man himself, Claus, to retrieve an elf on the run. I mean with a name like Power you know he is going to be one hellva top. Just Yum.
Syllabub just wants his freedom, but he knows Claus will send someone after him to return him to the workshop. A workshop where he feels stifled, doing outdated work. But oh how he did not expect someone as powerful as Power. Yet he can’t fight the pull of attraction he feels towards him. It is an attraction that Power refuses to let Bub ignore.
I enjoyed watching Bub try and fight his need to be consumed and owned by Power. Because, when he finally gave in, well the heat’o’meter hit an all-time high. For such a short story I didn’t feel like I was missing anything from the story. No, you are not going to get lengthy background information for either character, but you don’t need it in this book.
But what you will get is a hot, kinky fun Christmas story about a runaway elf and the elf that was sent to bring him back, who just happens to be the elf who was fated for him. So yes, if you are looking for an incredibly smexy read, with a few good laughs then I recommend this completely. It is one you will want to read again and again.
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 persuing 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, currently Sean is 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.