Tere Michaels
Tere Michaels unofficially began her writing career at the age of four when she learned that people got paid to write stories. It seemed the most perfect and logical job in the world and after that, her path was never in question. (The romance writer part was written in the stars—she was born on Valentine’s Day.)
It took thirty-six years of “research” and “life experience” and well… life… before her first book was published but there are no regrets (she doesn’t believe in them). Along the way, she had some interesting jobs in television, animation, arts education, PR, and a national magazine—but she never stopped believing she would eventually earn her living writing stories about love.
Her home base is a small town in New Jersey, very near NYC, a city she dearly loves. She shares her life with her husband, her son—who is also her personal trainer—and an exceedingly spoiled cat. Her spare time is spent watching way too much sports programming, going to the movies and for long walks/runs in the park, reading, and doing yoga.
Nothing makes her happier than knowing she made a reader laugh or smile or cry. It’s the purpose of sharing her work with people. She loves hearing from fans and fellow writers and is always available for speaking engagements, visits, and workshops. Send her a message through her contact page or connect with her on Instagram (@TereMichaels) and Facebook.
She teaches regularly at SavvyAuthors, as well as running a private consulting and developmental editing business.
“Shut up, Kathleen.”“Shut up, Miranda.”“God, enough with the shut ups, please,” Evan said, walking down the stairs looking good enough to eat (at least to Matt)....“Hi.” Matt held up the bag of melting Ben & Jerry’s. “I uh…this belongs in the fridge.”“I’ll make room.”“I’ll follow.”“I’ll vomit,” Miranda muttered ... Kathleen took great delight in asking “Why she’s got that stupid smile on her face?”
“Griffin Drake and his MacBook were the best of friends, more intimate than lovers. He slept with it. He cared for it with specially made cleaning cloths and cans of air to keep it dust free. Plants and fish had died under his watch with alarming regularity, but the computer-the computer was tended like a child.”
“What? Do I look stupid? A molecule of chicken? Eat some fucking food please. Thank you." "You curse a lot." "Fuck you-I hardly curse at all.”
“he'd been a cop long enough to know what actual perversion looked like and it sure wasn't two guys or two women going out to dinner and holding hands.”
“Got any mood music?”“If you press Play on the stereo you’re going to hear Miley Cyrus.”“I don’t know who that is.”“Count your blessings.”
“You broke up with me, and I spend one night with one guy who turns out to be the reason I’m even here, in domestic BLISS with your grouchy ass, and you can’t spare an evening for dinner? You are a dick.”
“I know this is like the worst possible time, but I really need to tell you that I love you. Okay? Because I do. And you don't have to say it back or anything, but that's how it is.”
“You have to live your life and not count on things being there tomorrow or the next day.”
“How are you going to find the right person if you think everyone is just trying to use you?”
“Straight people are crazy”
“And as horrible as that felt in this moment, it was almost a relief. Because he didn't need to worry about loss if he never bothered to love anyone.”
“Words just confused things -- when they held each other like this, it made so much more sense.”
“You become a cop and they teach you about protecting people and keeping them safe. But they don’t tell you how it rips your heart out when you realize you can’t do it. You can’t save everybody.”
“Tell me to stop,” Matt whispered. “Last chance.”
“I wish to God I had an answer for you right now. All I know is that…I’m not turning this car around. I’m going home with you…and we’ll see what happens from there.”
“Screw it -- the house needed cleansing with cock's blood and chanting.”
“Hey, Terry? Jim. How's it going? So, you and Mimi up for some dinner?” He paused. “No, I didn't hit my head. No, this isn't a code because I'm being held hostage.”
“Dude, nonsense is actually afraid of you, that's how no-nonsense you are.”
“Okay, you got me. The screenwriter is a vampire. Now go to your own desk and call Mimi so she can call me and I can get my day started”
“You curse a lot.""Fuck you - I hardly curse at all.”
“New but…good,” Evan said, shaking his head. “A good thing.” Helena caught the look that passed between the two men and it was beautiful…the only word she could think of was beautiful. It was love and lust and such a tender expression of care she wondered if they had any clue how lovely it was to see...”