Paint on the Canvas
Love on the Line Book 2
by Lynn Michaels
Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance
A life-changing sacrifice for art and love.
Daltrey Boxbaum is an artist, a lover, an addict, and more. Through the years, he finds and loses love,
fights addiction, and defines himself in new ways.
Martin Hannan was the love of Daltrey’s life, the son of a world-famous Silicon Valley developer and
tycoon. Left behind to fight his own battles, Martin’s reappearance in Daltrey’s life turns the stable world
he’s worked so hard for inside out.
Note: Love on the Line books can be read in any order, but best fits the numbered order.
Lines on the Mirror
Love on the Line Book 1
Martin has always done everything his parents ever asked, never making waves, but never learning how
to say no either. Then his new partying neighbors introduce him to a different lifestyle that pushes his
limits.
The only thing keeping him grounded is getting back in touch with his first love, Daltrey, who moved
across the country when they were still teenagers. Now, he's a successful artist and plays by his own
rules. He wants Martin but won't compromise his morals.
When Martin lets his new friends drag him down until he hits bottom, can he ever find his way back to
Daltrey and take control of his life?
Note: Love on the Line books can be read in any order.
Lynn Michaels lives and writes in Tampa, Florida where the sun is hot and the Sangria is cold. When
she's not writing she's kayaking, hanging with her husband, or reading by the pool. Lynn writes
Male/Male romance because she believes everyone deserves a happy ending and the dynamics of male
characters can be intriguing, vulnerable, and exciting. She has both contemporary and paranormal titles
and has been writing since 2014. Her stories don't follow any set guidelines or ideas, but come from her
heart and contain love in many forms.
Website * Facebook * Facebook Readers Group * Facebook ARC Group * Twitter * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads
GUEST POST
A Day in the Life – Daltrey & All I Could Do Was Paint
The weather was nice, so I put on sweat
pants and my sneakers. I layered up and headed to the park. I needed
to work out the kinks in my back and shoulders. I’d spent too many
hours alone, under lights, crouched over the painting. The little
details were coming out, but they were the hardest part.
I took off running when I got to the
park. The path wound around the lake and had bridges that crossed
over other pathways. The trees were budding. Spring was almost here.
There were some parts of the park that still had some snow on the
grass, but the paths were all clear.
After a while, I stopped and pulled off
my sweatshirt and tied it around my waist. Then I ran some more. I’d
almost forgotten how great it was to simply run through the park,
sucking in the fresh air, rejuvenating. My head cleared. I thought
about one step in front of the other. One step at a time. It was
simple. There was a kind of beauty in that.
Eventually, I wore myself out. I
stopped, breathing hard, and bent over. The sun blasted down through
the trees. I was tempted to take off another shirt, but I didn’t
dare. I’d end up with a cold. My ears and neck were warm, though,
so I headed home.
I stripped at the door, dropping my
clothes right there and kicking them against the wall. I could pick
them up later. I walked naked through my apartment, up the stairs,
and into the sleek bathroom. I showered and dressed, then made my way
to the kitchen. Mom had shopped for me, so I’d be able to find
something for lunch.
After all of that...my head was clear,
and I felt great. Back to painting. I had a super-huge canvas to
finish. The pressure had been what sent me outside in the first
place, I could no longer ignore it.
It had become difficult to paint
Martin’s face when once it had flowed like breath from lungs. He
stared back at me from the canvas, eyes as bright blue as I could
possibly make them. He looked angelic. But behind his head, swirls of
dark images floated around. They represented the struggles he seemed
to be having with his life. The struggles he seemed to be dragging me
into.
I couldn’t change any of that for
him. All I could do was paint.
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