I’m fortunate today to be hosting the kick off of Michaela Grey’s Coffee Cake blog tour. She’s agreed to answer some questions about herself and the book. She’s also got a giveaway so read through to the end to enter.

Welcome Michaela, please tell everyone a bit about yourself.
Hi there and thanks for having me! I’m a wife and mother in the Texas hill country. I’ve been writing for years but only got really serious about publishing about a year ago.

I know today isn’t your first ever release, but it is release day, how does that feel?

It feels amazing! This is my first “real” release – my only other book was self-published, so this is pretty darn exciting for me.

Take a few sentences and tell us about the new book, Coffee Cake. What inspired you to write this book?

I saw a writing prompt on Tumblr, actually. It was for an asexual Sam and a pansexual Gabriel (from the TV show Supernatural) and so I wrote it as fanfiction at first, but along the way, the characters grew and evolved from the way they are on the show and became Bran and Malachi.

The main character, Bran, is asexual. There aren’t a lot of books with asexual characters, what made you write about that?

That right there is the biggest reason. Asexuals fall in love just like “normal” people, and there are just so few books out there dealing with that. I wanted to show young ace folk that it’s perfectly possible to have a fulfilling relationship and be in love and that they’ll have to deal with all the stuff other people do, and that’s okay. Too many asexual teenagers these days grow up thinking they’re broken, and it’s my goal to help with that.

How hard was it to get the romance right between Bran and Malachi?

It really wasn’t hard at all. The only thing I had to really work on was making it clear that even though Bran doesn’t want sex for himself, he participates enthusiastically because he loves giving pleasure to Malachi and it delights him down to his toes to be able to take Malachi apart with his hands and mouth.

Can you talk about the other aspect of the story—the mystery of who’s after Malachi?

Well, it’s someone you meet fairly early on in the story. And I hope you won’t be able to guess who it is until the identity is revealed! You could say this person is sort of a ghost from Malachi’s past.

Tell us something not in the blurb.

Bran’s baking experiences come directly from my own kitchen, and if you find me on Tumblr and ask nicely, I’ll give you my secret recipe for the best bread you’ve ever tasted. (http://greymichaela.tumblr.com)

What do you like to read?

A little bit of everything. I love a good mystery, a good urban fantasy, like Jim Butcher, Neil Gaiman or Patricia Briggs. The only problem I have is that almost everything is so painfully straight. I want some diversity, please!

What’s your favorite part of the writing process?

There’s a moment when you hit the sweet spot, where the words are backing up in your head and falling over themselves to get out on the page, and everything just flows. I love that bit. It’s what I aim for, and it doesn’t happen often, but when it does…

What’s your least favorite?

The days when I have to sweat and scratch and bleed for every sentence, if not every word. When I know I have to get it done anyway, but it just…won’t…happen. Those are the days when I wonder why I chose to be a writer in the first place. But then I’ll have a good day the next day and I’ll remember.

Since there is always another story to tell, what are you working on now?

Well, I just finished my best work to date, I think. It’s called Buttons, and it tells the story of Micah the germaphobe who falls in love with Devon the mechanic. Micah has to work to overcome not only his neuroses but his deep-seated belief that he’s not good enough for Devon, and it’s a lovely story of character growth and transformation.

In the works right now is another mystery, because I am a glutton for punishment. A knitting pattern found on a murder victim is the only clue to a murder forty years in the making, and the detectives must work to decipher the pattern before the killer strikes again.

What have you read lately that most people haven’t read but should?

Beauty Queens, by Libba Bray. It’s the telling of a group of beauty pageant contestants who crash-land on a deserted island, and how they must work together to survive. There’s so much to love about this book, and it basically turns the Lord of the Flies trope on its head.

If you could meet any writer, alive or dead, who would it be and why?

Terry Pratchett, please.

Besides reading and writing, what else do you enjoy?

I love to knit while watching TV, and talk to my friends. I’m homebound due to poor health, so I don’t go many places, and my laptop is pretty much my life. J

Last question is all yours – feel free to talk about anything you want your readers to know about you, your book, anything at all.

Thank you for getting to know me a little better, dear readers! You can always talk to me on Tumblr or via my Facebook page, and I love hearing what you thought of the book, so please don’t hesitate to contact me and give me your feedback!

Title: Coffee Cake

Author: Michaela Grey

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson

Length: 220 Pages/67000 words

Release Date: 11^th May, 2015

Blurb: Bran Kendrick never expected to fall in love. He’s asexual, after all. What chance does he have of finding someone who’ll see past that? So when Malachi Warren catches his eye, Bran tells himself his crush will pass. Malachi disagrees. He has been attracted to Bran for some time, something he is delighted to find Bran reciprocating. They begin to date and feel their way through an intimate relationship that meets both their needs.

Suddenly Bran finds himself juggling a new boyfriend, a demanding job, and a college degree he’s not sure he wants, but he couldn’t be happier—until a series of seemingly random accidents befall Malachi. When they escalate, Bran realizes someone is trying to take away the best thing that ever happened to him, and he must scramble to keep Malachi safe while they search for the would-be killer.

EVEN IN early September, Vermont meant that Saturday morning dawned crisp and cool, and Bran tugged on his favorite beanie and scarf before making the trek across campus to the Grind, the tiny coffee shop that was his main source of income.

He couldn’t help the smile that flickered across his face when he walked into the kitchen, breathing in the smells of bread, cinnamon, almonds, and toasted sugar. He could feel the tension draining from his shoulders as he mentally flipped through the list of things he needed to do before he opened the café.

Start the blueberry muffins first. They can bake while I put together the topping for the coffee cake. Sweet-talk the cappuccino maker into starting up and leave yet another note for Naomi about getting a new one. Put the croissants in the oven last; I really need to set aside a couple of days to perfect making those myself so I can actually recommend them with a clear conscience. Call Katie and find out where the hell she is and why I’m here alone again.

He spent the morning making cappuccinos, espressos, and Americanos for the students who straggled in, bleary-eyed and hungover from the night before. He knew a lot of them—it wasn’t a large college, after all—and he dispensed smiles and the occasional aspirin along with the blueberry muffins and croissants.

When the bell jingled midmorning, Bran was in the back. He was handling the store alone, since Katie had phoned in sick.

“Be right there!” he called. He tugged a tray of muffin batter out of the massive refrigerator and slid it into the industrial-size oven before wiping his hands on his apron and hurrying back into the storefront.

Only to slam on the brakes and stare at Malachi leaning against the counter, smiling at him.

“Um,” Bran said eloquently.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Malachi agreed. “What’s good this morning?”

Bran dragged his brain into gear. “The, uh, coffee cake is decent. I made it myself. Or the blueberry muffins. I don’t recommend the croissants—we don’t make them in-house.”

“Coffee cake sounds good, Bran! Can I have a hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles with that, please?”

“Sure,” Bran said, and he moved to obey, mind whirling.

Malachi leaned on the counter and watched him, and Bran still couldn’t figure out what to say.

“Did you go to any good parties last night?” Malachi asked, and Bran jumped.

“I, uh, no,” Bran said, cursing his fumbling tongue. “Had to study. I don’t… party much.” And there goes any chance of Malachi wanting to get to know me, he thought a little despairingly.

“I know what you mean,” Malachi said, and Bran turned to stare at him, nearly dropping the coffee cake. Malachi lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, I party plenty, don’t get me wrong. But this English class is kicking my ass, and I can’t seem to get my head wrapped around it.”

“Do you have a study group?”

“I did,” Malachi said, popping a toothpick in his mouth. “But we went our separate ways at the end of last year, and I haven’t found anyone else to work with yet.”

“You should talk to Dave,” Bran said, and then he wanted to kick himself. Why hadn’t he volunteered himself? He could study with a senior, couldn’t he?

“Dave’s a great guy,” Malachi agreed, “but what about you?”

Bran did drop the coffee cake that time, and stood there staring at the mess on the floor for way too long. Idiot. He went to his knees and began picking up shards of pottery.

“You okay down there?” Malachi asked.

“Fine,” Bran said, and then he gasped as he sliced his hand on a sharp edge, blood welling up and then dripping onto the mangled coffee cake on the floor.

Malachi rounded the counter and pushed Bran away from the wreckage, gripping his wrist. “You idiot, what were you thinking?” His voice was warm with concern, and Bran couldn’t think of anything but how gentle Malachi’s hand was on his skin.

Malachi reached up, grabbed a clean towel from the counter, and wrapped it around Bran’s hand with deft movements. Then he stood up. “Stay there,” he told him, and disappeared.

Bran obeyed, resting his head against the cabinet. Dimly, he heard Malachi’s voice and the jingle of the coffee shop door. Silence fell.

That was that, then. Bran sighed. He was a klutz, and he’d scared off the cutest boy he’d ever seen by being a fumbling idiot who didn’t know how to talk to people like a normal person.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Malachi appeared above him again.

“Whoa, hey, easy there!” Malachi said, grabbing his shoulder.

“I… thought you left,” Bran said, then wanted to kick himself.

“Nah, I closed the shop. Kicked out the few people savoring their muffins and locked the doors behind ’em. We’ve got the place to ourselves. Now get up, c’mon, we need to clean that wound and bandage it properly.” He steadied Bran by the arm as he levered himself to his feet, holding the red-soaked towel aloft with a grimace.

“Not feeling faint from blood loss, are you?” Malachi asked, steering him toward the back.

Bran shook his head. He was light-headed but it wasn’t blood loss. It was the firm hand that held his arm, steadying him as he led Bran to the bathroom, and the concern in those bright brown eyes.

Malachi opened the bathroom door and tugged Bran inside. It was a tiny room, and Bran held his breath at his proximity to the other young man. Malachi turned on the sink and unwrapped the towel with careful fingers. Bran hissed as it pulled at the edges of the gash, and Malachi winced.

“Sorry, kiddo,” he murmured. He dropped the bloody towel on the floor and held Bran’s hand under the running water, tightening his grip when Bran involuntarily pulled back at the stinging pain. “Gotta clean it out,” he reminded him. “Where’s your first-aid kit?”

“Under the sink,” Bran managed through his teeth.

Malachi fumbled for it one-handed, his soft hair brushing Bran’s arm as he bent down, and Bran swallowed hard.

Malachi came up triumphantly with the kit clutched in his fist and set it on the edge of the sink. After turning off the faucet, he gave Bran a gentle push toward the closed toilet lid.

“Sit. I’m gonna put my astounding first-aid skills to work here, and I don’t need you passing out halfway through. I need constant positive feedback or I shrivel up and die, you know.”

Bran huffed a laugh and sat down. “Are you a trained medical professional?” he teased, and Malachi grinned at him.

“Nah, I just play one on TV.” He examined the edges of the wound, tsking to himself. “The bleeding’s almost stopped, and I don’t think it’ll need stitches, but I can take you to the emergency room if you want?”

Bran’s head swam at the thought of having that long with Malachi, of being in a car with him, having his attention, but he shook his head regretfully.

“I can’t leave the store,” he said. “There’s muffins in the oven and, I have a lot more to bake, and Naomi would kill me if I took off now, especially since Katie’s not here to cover.”

“Sense of duty, huh?” Malachi said as he pressed gauze into place and began to wrap the wound. “I like that in a man.”

Bran blinked. Was Malachi… flirting with him? He fumbled for something to say, something witty, something that would make Malachi laugh, but then the moment passed, and Malachi was standing back to admire his handiwork.

“I can’t guarantee you’ll play the piano again,” he said, “But you’ll be able to impress all the girls with your wicked scar, so that’s something, right?”

“I’m not… interested in girls,” Bran mumbled, ducking his head.

There was silence from above him for a moment, and then Malachi laughed quietly. “Neither is my brother. Me, I figure the more the merrier.”

“What, like threesomes?” Bran said, then nearly clapped his hand over his mouth.

Malachi snorted. “No, I mean I don’t care what someone has down their pants. Attraction, for me, isn’t based on gender. But Tris is like you: he’s gay. Although he’s also the most socially awkward dude I’ve ever met, so if he ever gets a boyfriend, I may keel over in shock.”

“I’m not gay either,” Bran blurted. He wanted to run, to hide and never look at the young man standing in front of him, but at the same time a weird feeling of relief was stealing over him. Malachi was the first person he’d told. Come what may, he’d admitted to someone what he was, and that was a step forward, no matter how Malachi reacted.

Malachi was utterly still above him, and Bran swallowed hard. This was it, the part where Malachi told him to have a nice life and took off back to his normal friends.

Malachi tilted Bran’s chin up, and Bran’s eyes widened as he met his gaze.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, kiddo. So you’re ace?”

Bran nodded jerkily.

Malachi smiled at him. “Are you aromantic too?”

“I, uh….” Bran floundered for words.

“Haven’t gotten that far in your research yet?” Malachi winked at him. “Look it up. We can talk about it when we get together to study tomorrow.”

Bran stared at him. When had they agreed to that?

“In the meantime, you have a coffee shop to run, so let’s get you back to it, shall we?” He flapped his hands at him until Bran took the hint and stood up, feeling a mile tall as he towered over the shorter man. Malachi just tilted his head back and grinned up at him. Then he shooed him out of the bathroom and back into the store, where he grabbed a chair from the dining area and dragged it behind the counter.

“Sit,” he said firmly, and he cocked an eyebrow when Bran hesitated. “You can’t serve food with an open wound, kiddo. So you’re going to direct me and work the register, and I’m gonna run this place for you.”

Bran just stared at him as Malachi grabbed the dustpan and began cleaning up the coffee cake mess on the floor.

Malachi whistled as he cleaned and then opened the front door, and Bran stayed quiet and watched him, head swimming.

Malachi hadn’t run. He hadn’t disappeared when Bran had told him what he was. Why not? Bran was different, not normal. Malachi couldn’t possibly be interested in Bran, so why was he still hanging around?

Malachi snapped his fingers, and Bran blinked, looking up.

“You’ve got a customer, kid, and the oven just dinged at me. Either it’s flirting with me, or the muffins inside are done. Could go either way. What do you want me to do?”

Bran gathered his thoughts. “Um, get the muffins out, put the tray on the cooling rack back there, and set the timer for five minutes. Then you’ll take them out of the tray, but they need to set up a bit before you do that or they’ll collapse.”

Malachi winked. “You got it.”

He disappeared, and Bran stood up to take the first customer’s order with a smile on his face.

 

DSP Link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6368

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Coffee-Cake-Michaela-Grey-ebook/dp/B00X6B59E2/

ARe Link: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-coffeecake-1792748-145.html

 

Michaela Grey told stories to put herself to sleep since she was old enough to hold a conversation in her head. When she learned to write, she began putting those stories down on paper. She and her family reside in the Texas hill country with their cats, and she is perpetually on the hunt for peaceful writing time, which her four children make difficult to find.

When she’s not writing, she’s knitting while watching TV or avoiding responsibilities on Tumblr, where she shamelessly ogles pretty people and tries to keep her cat off the keyboard.

Tumblr: http://greymichaela.tumblr.com

Twitter: @GreyMichaela

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/GreyMichaela

Email: [email protected]

 

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