Now Available: A Man for Michael by Sedonia Guillone (Interracial Gay Romance, Sports)

A Man for Michael
Author: Sedonia Guillone
Genre: M/M romance, gay romance, sports romance
Imprint: Ai Press
Length: Novella
Price: 1.99 USD

Cover art: Louca Matheo

Buy from: Amazon Kindle|BN Nook|Kobo|Google Play

One look gave him the courage to fight for his life…

Cory Chow has grown up in the dark, violent world of the underground fight cages, defeating men much larger than himself, night after night, year after year. As the slave of a dangerous London gangster who trapped him as a child, Cory has known nothing else. Yet his soul craves light, love and affection. Now on a grand tour of the underground fight world of the United States, he doesn’t see any other way out than throwing a fight and getting himself killed. Until… a look from a handsome stranger on the sidelines gives him a ray of hope. He has one slim chance to dare it all: escape or death. A risk Cory is willing to take for his freedom and a chance at love…


Finally, after the last guy had been knocked unconscious and lay in a heap, blood running down his face, Donnie made a show of signaling his two runners to come out and drag the defeated fighter out of the pit-cage. Someone stomped their foot near the pit and soon the entire club filled with the roaring clamor of stomping feet and shouts of “Chow now! Chow now! Chow now!”

Like a benevolent master, Donnie held up his hand and nodded. Immediately, the chant gave way to cheers, hooting and clapping. In spite of everything Mike felt about this place, he had to admit his own blood had heated, his heartbeat quickening with the telltale anticipation of a good fight, not to mention his intrigue at Noodle’s description of the Chow. In fact, it was this Bruce Lee image of some gorgeous guy, muscles flexing as he leaped and kicked, that had really convinced Mike to come. Well, that and the fact that Noodle’s ass was on the line because he’d been to the loan sharks again.

Without another word, Donnie pointed to the entryway of the pit-cage and a runner pulled the gate back.

The crowd went wild and Mike’s body was pressed hard against the chain link sides. He succumbed to the weight against him and watched the first fighter come in, a beefy guy wearing nothing but tight studded leather in straps around his body. He was bald and wore a competitive scowl, which showed large rows of white teeth gleaming in the lights. A mixed round of cheers and boos followed this guy whose name he couldn’t remember from the tickets, caught up as he was by his own anticipation of seeing the Chow.

Leather Guy moved in a tight, beastlike circle of the pit, obviously trying to rouse support from the crowd. However, the cheers grew suddenly deafening and Mike knew why. Straining to see the gate through the lunge of bodies, Mike saw the star of the evening emerge at the pit entrance and caught his breath.

So unexpected was Mike’s physical response that he began to shiver.

The videos hadn’t lied. The Chow looked to be about five-foot-eight or so, his dark hair shorn almost to his scalp. Even through the press of the crowd, Mike could see the guy’s physical beauty emanating like a light. His skin, the color of roasted almonds, offset the sleekness of his muscles. His torso tapered into a V-shape and his shoulders were surprisingly broad for his stature. His hairless pecs were round and hard, the dark gold skin and brown nipples gleaming under the lights.

His face was a beautiful mask of intensity, and he stared at his opponent from large almond-shaped eyes. His full lips were parted, his breathing hard, his hands clenched in fists at his sides. Below he wore a pair of ratty-looking baggy pants and black slip-on shoes, the kind that guys wore in kung-fu films.

Mike’s heartbeat rose and something inside told him it wasn’t from anticipation of the fight. He found his gaze riveted on the Chow’s face, to the intensity blazing in his large eyes. Sweat erupted on Mike’s body that wasn’t only from the hot press of the crowd. The sensation of arousal curled in his groin and his cock twitched and started to harden.

That’s when he saw it.

A collar like a bulldog would wear, its shiny spikes glinting in the lights, was fastened around the Chow’s neck. Okay, Mike would have dismissed such an article as a gimmick. But then he saw the collar was attached to a leash, the other end of it held by a large goon, also in an expensive suit. No doubt that suit had also been bought by the Chow’s sweat and blood.

A sick feeling rose in the pit of Mike’s stomach at the sight of the leash, the bile churning in sharp contrast to the unexpected fanning of desire in his entire body. He swallowed hard, the roar of the crowd around fading to the background in his consciousness. It was just like a scene in a movie the way he blocked out the chaos and bloodlust around him to concentrate his attention solely on the Chow.

In the next moment, the goon holding the leash reached out and unclipped it. Before Mike could blink, the Chow bounded into the ring and leapt through the air. His hard, powerful body sailed in defiance of gravity, and one kung-fu shoe-clad foot pounded into his opponent’s beefy chest.
Leather Man staggered back, his mouth open in a stunned expression. He hit the chain link wall and growled. After a moment he gathered himself and charged the Chow. The Chow twisted and turned, avoiding the large body hurtling toward him and took a running jump. He ricocheted off the chain link wall and delivered another sharp kick.

Once again, Leather Man staggered back. To the galoot’s credit, he put up a lengthy, exciting fight. But the Chow’s punches, flying kicks and chops finally did him in. One last kick from the Chow left Leather Man in a heap in the center of the pit. The crowd’s thundering practically made the earth shake.

Donnie lumbered into the pit and held one of the Chow’s rippling arms up in the air to another rousing thunder of hurrahs. He turned the Chow this way and that, and Mike was captured by the sight of the Chow’s chest heaving from the adrenaline of the fight. Sweat gleamed off the Chow’s smooth, cut muscles, seizing Mike with the most wicked desire to lick the salty moisture right off the Chow’s skin.

About Sedonia Guillone

Pubished author of lgbt and m/f romance. Ghostwriter and editor with fifteen years' experience. Publisher of two imprints, Ai Press for romance and Kokoro Press for mainstream, gay fiction, spiritual and memoirs.
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