She Shoots, She Scores!


I’m excited to share my freind Vicki’s latest release.  I shared the cover reveal just a short time ago now here it is: 

Roster Addition

V.L. Locey

M/F Erotic Hockey Romance Novella

 

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Buy Links:

Amazon-http://tinyurl.com/zwwxrug

B&N-http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/roster-addition-v-l-locey/1124779670?ean=2940153767611

Smashwords-https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/670272

Blurb: Veikko Aho, Wildcats star goalie, and his wife Liz are about to add a new player to their family roster. The open adoption of Maggie and Derrick’s granddaughter will help to heal the gaping hole infertility has left in the Aho’s life. Finally, that huge mansion on the Main Line will hear the sweet laughter of a child.

But the birth that the Aho’s are so looking forward too seems to be stirring up some anxiety and unspoken fears for the grandparents. As the seemingly endless night of labor drags on, power struggles that threaten to break up a long-standing friendship rise to the surface. Can both families put aside their petty differences or will this precious new Wildcat tear them apart?

 I got the chance to preview an ARC copy for Vicki,  and wow has she outdone herself with this one.  Here’s just a little tease of what you can expect:

Excerpt:

A Little from Derrick

 The phone died just as I knew it would. “Love you too, Mags,” I said anyway then shoved my deceased phone into the front pocket of my trousers. A stiff wind whistled through the parking lot, making me move a little faster. Stepping inside the Doughnut Den, warm, moist air and the smell of freshly made doughnuts embraced me. My belly rumbled as I stepped up to the counter to order coffee for four adults and a box of a dozen assorted doughnuts. The cashier was a tiny little gal who seemed a little intimidated by the ugly old bear buying glazed and chocolate-covered. Even when I give her a smile and a tip, she hung back, never looking me in the eye. I was used to it. Ashley, the girl having my grandbaby, she was real quiet and backward around me for months until she got to know me better. Guess I was one scary type. Must be the beard and scars. You don’t play hockey for twenty years and not get battle scars.

I took my purchases to a table by the window so I could see Aho’s spiffy white Jaguar XJL Ultimate when he pulled up. Imagine my surprise when I saw the goalie climbing out of a metallic blue BMW coupe about ten minutes later. Aho took a moment to button up his long black coat then tuck a white scarf dangling around his neck into the front of his coat. He hurried across the parking lot, looking like some sort of high paid fashion model instead of a hockey player. I reached up to rub the knob on the bridge of my nose, a reminder of ten stitches needed after taking a high stick from some chucklehead from Boston. Hell, that musta been ten years ago now. Veikko, he didn’t have no scars. Not a one, and that was good. If you’ve never seen pictures of the old goalies back before they started wearing masks, you’d be terrified of what you were seeing.

“I was wondering if you’d be having a snack while you waited,” the Finn said after he entered the shop. I held up a half-eaten peanut-butter crème filled. Aho smiled then walked up the counter. That little girl didn’t seem to have any troubles chatting and blushing all over Veikko as he ordered drinks.

“I already got you some,” I informed him when he walked over to the table by the window.

“Ah, well, we’ll have refills.” His eyes dropped to the open box of doughnuts.

“Dig in,” I said then pushed the last bite of my peanut-butter crème filled into my trap.

“Thank you, but I’ll have to pass,” he said in that precise, refined way he spoke.

“I ain’t playing no more so I can grab a sweet now and again,” I informed him.

“It looks like you have grabbed five sweets,” he countered then gave me a wink. I closed the lid then pushed to my feet. The man was just rubbing me wrong for some reason. Probably, I was still pissed off about the train ride and was taking that out on him. “I envy you,” Veikko added as I gathered up my dirty napkins. My gaze jumped from the trash in my hands to the Finn. There wasn’t one damn thing I could think of that Aho would envy me, or anyone else, about. “You’re free now to enjoy the delights of life and not be so concerned about a few extra pounds and how they slow you down on the ice.”

“Oh, yah, being retired is about the best thing ever,” I lied like a rug then whipped my garbage into a can by the front door. Out into the cold we went, both of us carrying containers with coffee, and me with a box of doughnut under my arm. “So where are we, you know, in terms of the baby coming?”

“Not far yet,” he replied, turning his face from a gust of wind that sent papers flying up over our heads. “Elizabeth tells me that first time births can take many hours.”

“Yah, so I hear.” We stopped by the blue BMW. “Where’s the Jag? I didn’t think you ever left home without her.”

Aho grinned at me from across the roof of the Beemer. “That was before we were to be parents. As much as I love my Jaguar, it is not exactly the kind of car one carries a child in, is it?”

“Guess not,” I replied then slowly lowered myself into the car. I looked into the backseat, hoping to find a place to put the doughnut box, and saw a brand new car seat all strapped in and ready for use. I kid you not, seeing that car seat hit me puck between the eyes.

 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

 

Author Links:

Website: http://vlloceyauthor.com/

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

If you  like hockey, if you like romance – Vicki’s got something for you! 

Gone Writing Publishing Backlist Books and Upcoming Releases

Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

O Captain! My Captain! (Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Language of Love (Book Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Final Shifts (Book Six of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Clean Sweep (Book One of the Venom Series)

Twirly Girl (Book Two of the Venom Series)

Tape to Tape (Book Three of the Venom Series)

Roster Addition (A To Love a Wildcat Novella)

 

Torquere Press Backlist and Upcoming Releases

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology)

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 3: He’s a Lumberjack and He`s Undead

Love of the Hunter

All I Want for Christmas – A Toms & Tabbies Tale

Early to Rise – A Toms & Tabbies Tale

 Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)

An Erie Halloween

An Erie Operetta

An Erie Garden Party

Back to the Garden (Also part of the Mythologically Torqued Anthology)

 

M/M Independent Releases

Coming October 12, 2016…On Broadway (part of the Changing on the Fly M/M hockey romance charity novella)

Coming Dec. 5, 2016…Holly & Hockey Boots (M/M erotic holiday hockey romance)

Coming in 2017 …

The Brighton Wood Blades (an LGBTQ erotic hockey romance series)

Two Man Advantage

Game Misconduct

Full Strength

Shutdown Pair

Long Change

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Cover Reveal


V.L. Locey just keeps cranking them out!  This woman is amazing!

I get the honor of helping her to reveal her latest.

 Roster Addition. 

V.L. Locey

M/F Erotic Hockey Romance Novella

14595729_1298516536834523_7656212802117188556_n-1

Buy Links:

Amazon-http://tinyurl.com/zwwxrug

Blurb:

Veikko Aho, Wildcats star goalie, and his wife Liz are about to add a new player to their family roster. The open adoption of Maggie and Derrick’s granddaughter will help to heal the gaping hole infertility has left in the Aho’s life. Finally, that huge mansion on the Main Line will hear the sweet laughter of a child.

But the birth that the Aho’s are so looking forward too seems to be stirring up some anxiety and unspoken fears for the grandparents. As the seemingly endless night of labor drags on, power struggles that threaten to break up a long-standing friendship rise to the surface. Can both families put aside their petty differences or will this precious new Wildcat tear them apart?

 Excerpt:

A Little from Derrick

 The phone died just as I knew it would. “Love you too, Mags,” I said anyway then shoved my deceased phone into the front pocket of my trousers. A stiff wind whistled through the parking lot, making me move a little faster. Stepping inside the Doughnut Den, warm, moist air and the smell of freshly made doughnuts embraced me. My belly rumbled as I stepped up to the counter to order coffee for four adults and a box of a dozen assorted doughnuts. The cashier was a tiny little gal who seemed a little intimidated by the ugly old bear buying glazed and chocolate-covered. Even when I give her a smile and a tip, she hung back, never looking me in the eye. I was used to it. Ashley, the girl having my grandbaby, she was real quiet and backward around me for months until she got to know me better. Guess I was one scary type. Must be the beard and scars. You don’t play hockey for twenty years and not get battle scars.

I took my purchases to a table by the window so I could see Aho’s spiffy white Jaguar XJL Ultimate when he pulled up. Imagine my surprise when I saw the goalie climbing out of a metallic blue BMW coupe about ten minutes later. Aho took a moment to button up his long black coat then tuck a white scarf dangling around his neck into the front of his coat. He hurried across the parking lot, looking like some sort of high paid fashion model instead of a hockey player. I reached up to rub the knob on the bridge of my nose, a reminder of ten stitches needed after taking a high stick from some chucklehead from Boston. Hell, that musta been ten years ago now. Veikko, he didn’t have no scars. Not a one, and that was good. If you’ve never seen pictures of the old goalies back before they started wearing masks, you’d be terrified of what you were seeing.

“I was wondering if you’d be having a snack while you waited,” the Finn said after he entered the shop. I held up a half-eaten peanut-butter crème filled. Aho smiled then walked up the counter. That little girl didn’t seem to have any troubles chatting and blushing all over Veikko as he ordered drinks.

“I already got you some,” I informed him when he walked over to the table by the window.

“Ah, well, we’ll have refills.” His eyes dropped to the open box of doughnuts.

“Dig in,” I said then pushed the last bite of my peanut-butter crème filled into my trap.

“Thank you, but I’ll have to pass,” he said in that precise, refined way he spoke.

“I ain’t playing no more so I can grab a sweet now and again,” I informed him.

“It looks like you have grabbed five sweets,” he countered then gave me a wink. I closed the lid then pushed to my feet. The man was just rubbing me wrong for some reason. Probably, I was still pissed off about the train ride and was taking that out on him. “I envy you,” Veikko added as I gathered up my dirty napkins. My gaze jumped from the trash in my hands to the Finn. There wasn’t one damn thing I could think of that Aho would envy me, or anyone else, about. “You’re free now to enjoy the delights of life and not be so concerned about a few extra pounds and how they slow you down on the ice.”

“Oh, yah, being retired is about the best thing ever,” I lied like a rug then whipped my garbage into a can by the front door. Out into the cold we went, both of us carrying containers with coffee, and me with a box of doughnut under my arm. “So where are we, you know, in terms of the baby coming?”

“Not far yet,” he replied, turning his face from a gust of wind that sent papers flying up over our heads. “Elizabeth tells me that first time births can take many hours.”

“Yah, so I hear.” We stopped by the blue BMW. “Where’s the Jag? I didn’t think you ever left home without her.”

Aho grinned at me from across the roof of the Beemer. “That was before we were to be parents. As much as I love my Jaguar, it is not exactly the kind of car one carries a child in, is it?”

“Guess not,” I replied then slowly lowered myself into the car. I looked into the backseat, hoping to find a place to put the doughnut box, and saw a brand new car seat all strapped in and ready for use. I kid you not, seeing that car seat hit me puck between the eyes.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

13735297_1222853191067525_1597284606_n

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

Author Links:

Website: http://vlloceyauthor.com/

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

Gone Writing Publishing Backlist Books and Upcoming Releases

Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

O Captain! My Captain! (Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Language of Love (Book Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Final Shifts (Book Six of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Clean Sweep (Book One of the Venom Series)

Twirly Girl (Book Two of the Venom Series)

Tape to Tape (Book Three of the Venom Series)

Roster Addition (A To Love a Wildcat Novella)

 

Torquere Press Backlist and Upcoming Releases

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology)

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 3: He’s a Lumberjack and He`s Undead

Love of the Hunter

All I Want for Christmas – A Toms & Tabbies Tale

Early to Rise – A Toms & Tabbies Tale

 Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)

An Erie Halloween

An Erie Operetta

An Erie Garden Party

Back to the Garden (Also part of the Mythologically Torqued Anthology)

 

M/M Independent Releases

Coming October 12, 2016…On Broadway (part of the Changing on the Fly M/M hockey romance charity novella)

Coming Dec. 5, 2016…Holly & Hockey Boots (M/M erotic holiday hockey romance)

Coming in 2017 …

The Brighton Wood Blades (an LGBTQ erotic hockey romance series)

Two Man Advantage

Game Misconduct

Full Strength

Shutdown Pair

Long Change

See what I mean? This woman is a writing machine! Congratulations on your latest release! OH yeah,  the release date for this one will be November 16, 2016.

Write on my friends,  just like Vicki does! One day I want to have as many books as she does! Write on!

Ellie

Prize- apalooza!


Yesterday my good friend V. L. Locey had a release party for her latest book – Twirly Girl. 

twirly girl release party

Wow does she know how to throw a party!

Although I was nervous about doing it,  I had an absolute blast! The turnout was amazing!  I even connected with some new readers that are fairly close to me- BONUS!

Today I am sharing the prize winners from that event.

5 Review Prizes:

An e-copy of Red Wine & Roses; signed rack card, wine charm, and hand-crafted bookmark.

 

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Winners are:

Michelle Graham, Christine Combs Mead, Jean Torgeson White, Amanda Avakian, and Kristine Radgman. Congratulations!

3 Contest winners:

Cup cozy, signed rack card, and wine charm.

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Winners are: Kris Saluga, Mindy Velasquez, and Michelle Graham.

Congratulations!

My Grand Prize  – Signed copy of Red Wine & Roses Rack card, a wine charm, and custom designed earrings.

Goes to: Elizabeth Hensley Roney!  CONGRATULATIONS!!

Thank you, V. L. Locey, for including me in your  event and thank you to everyone that participated. Now I have to get back to work on my next book – Valkyrie’s Curse: The Awakening.  I’m so close I can almost taste it!

This Sunday will be the last snippet I share from it and I’ll have to figure out where to go from there.

Write on my friends, write on!

Till next time

~~~~

Ellie

 

Two Man Advantage


I love it when I can get together with my writing friends!

I think I’ve mentioned before about my morning writing group, they are anawesome group of women. Seriously if not for these ladies I would have given up numerous times by now.  Although we operate on different schedules, we are there for each other. Some mornings it is all about the words – coffee and wordage.  Whether the sprint is 30 minutes or 60 minutes, we have focused time to write, edit, blog – whatever we are working on.

Regardless of anyone’s pace,  it’s the daily practice that improves our craft and helps us to get to the finish line. In between sprints we bear each other up on our shoulders, moms united! Sometimes it’s the drama of teens,  or it’s family issues or furbabies, maybe it’s health matters, and sometimes it’s the emotional fall apart after a stressful time.

I know I can count on my Chatty Chicks Writing Group to be there through thick and thin!   I also know I can count on them to let me cry on their shoulder then when I’ve done that for long enough to jerk the slack out of me and tell me to buck up. Real world, real friends, real moms!

My guest today is one of these ladies from my Chatty Chicks group. I loved her sense of humor in Of Gods & Goats, and Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse.  I absolutely adored Pink Pucks! There is always a bit of her underlying sense of humor even though the pages are scorched.  She has another one out now, Two Man Advantage!

I’m going to turn it over to her now as I go pound away on the keyboard to reach my goal of THE END today before I go on a road trip to bring my daughter back from college for the summer.  A friend that rescues you in your time of need – every woman should be so lucky!

Please welcome  back the wonderful V. L. Locey!

Why I Write Hockey Romance

Over the years I have had tons of people ask me why I write hockey romance, and more specifically, why gay hockey romance. I’ll address with two responses:

One is that I don`t choose my genres, my genres choose me. When a story idea blossoms, it comes to me with my couple predetermined either M/F or M/M, but always the couple comes first. The plot comes afterward. There is no arguing with my muse because she knows what she wants and will become quite bitter if I try to change the leads in any way.

My second reply is why not write gay hockey romance? Who says love can only find straight couples who play the game? It’s time for professional gay athletes to stop having to hide who they are. As they say in ads for one of my favorite organizations “If you can play, you can play.” The folks at You Can Play Foundation are so right. Who cares who you sleep with as long as you can play the game? Let’s start eradicating homophobia in sports. As an ally and an author, I feel that one way to start whittling at the hatred is to spread love via my books.

So that`s why I write both M/F and M/M hockey romances. I love to spread love, and hip checks. Why do you read the genres that you do? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!

Skate hard and love deeply,

V.L. Locey

rainbow-flag-LGBT-symbology

Two Man Avantage

4 Flame Gay Erotic Hockey Romance

*~*

Victor Kalinski, all-star forward for the Boston Barracudas, is one of the biggest jerks in professional hockey. Before long his aggressive attitude gets him shipped off to play in the minor leagues.

Furious, he takes to the ice with equal amounts of skill and scathing sarcasm, which doesn’t win him any friends—except for good-natured alternate captain Daniel Arou. He won’t take any of Vic’s crap, and he won’t take no for an answer.

But Vic’s troublemaking is pulling his career one way while Dan’s talent is pushing his in the other. However much they scorch the sheets, they might soon be separated by more than Vic’s fear of being hurt.

Inside Scoop:  This book contains scorching gay sex and a heaping helping of no-holds-barred snark between hot hockey heroes who don’t pull their punches.

A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

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Excerpts

 PG-13 (Mature Language):

One short little shit got my attention when Lambert told them to try again. He was a dark-haired little scrapper with a light-sienna complexion, who got into the corners, putting elbow to nose and lumber to teeth with no remorse until he got the puck free. I liked his grit. And the way his dark hair hung out from under his lid, flipping up at the ends. The man had some good flow going on.

His style was good, his eyes sharp, his stick handling above par and his ankles strong. He was the only one who had a grasp of what he was supposed to be doing, if you asked me. When he skated past in pursuit of the puck, I got a glimpse of a round, cute face with a button nose and lapis lazuli eyes. He executed a perfect side-stop, his plump mouth drawing up as he looked at me.

“Holy shit, it’s the big bad boy of Beantown,” he yelled to be heard over the shouts of his teammates. There was a noticeable Canadian accent when he spoke. He was probably no older than my twenty-four, if that. He wore the big A on his shoulder, so I knew he was an alternate captain. Shit, but he had a sexy Elvis Presley mouth. “What’s your expert opinion on how we’re looking, Kalinski?”

“To quote Reggie Dunlop as played by Paul Newman in Slapshot, ‘Jesus Christ, what a *#*#* nightmare.”

He chuckled then skated down ice. His said his last name was spelled A-R-O-U.

Coach Lambert skated into my line of sight. I smiled pleasantly.

“What kind of fresh holy *#*#* hell is this?” Coach asked, coming through the gate and stalking past me. “Did you think I was kidding when I told you never to darken my door again, Kalinski?” he asked, throwing the door to his office open.

“You’re going to *#*# the shit out of those blades,” I pointed out as I lingered in the doorway. Coach Lambert threw me a blistering look. I didn’t remember him hating me quite this badly. “But hey, it’s your nutsack Carl will roast over an open fire, not mine.”

“Shut the door, sit down and keep that toxic *#*#* mouth of yours closed.”

I did as he asked. Lambert fell into a rolling office chair to unlace his skates. The plastic wheels whimpered at the abuse. His gray eyes drilled into mine as he untied his laces with short, jerky motions. One skate sailed across the room, hitting the wall with a sickening thud.

“I can’t believe this is how the *#*#* repay me for fourteen years of coaching expertise,” Coach snarled, yanking violently on a hellacious knot in his laces.

“Your team has come in last for the past two years. I’m not sure you can call that expertise.”

Lambert nearly ripped his foot off. The skate flew past my left ear and embedded itself a good four inches into the sheetrock behind me. Slowly shifting my attention from the skate of doom to Lambert, I gifted him with one of my “I was only kidding” smirks. It had little to no effect. If anything, the vein right above his left eye thumped faster.

 

Buy Links:

Ellora`s Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/two-man-advantage.html

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/pgm5zk4

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/two-man-advantage-vl-locey/1121702094?ean=9781419993664

Kobo:https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/two-man-advantage-2

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Author Bio:

 V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and  two steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

tsú – https://www.tsu.co/vllocey

 

Secret Cravings Backlist Books and Upcoming Releases

Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

O Captain! My Captain! (Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Language of Love (Book Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Final Shifts (Book Six of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Tumble Dry

Coming in August 2015 – Clean Sweep (Book One of the Venom Series)

 

Torquere Press Backlist and Upcoming Releases

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology)

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 3: He’s a Lumberjack and He`s Undead

Love of the Hunter

Goaltender`s Penalty

All I Want for Christmas – A Toms & Tabbies Tale

Early to Rise – A Toms & Tabbies Tale

 Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)

 Night of the Jackal

An Erie Halloween

An Erie Operetta

Back to the Garden (Also part of the Mythologically Torqued Anthology)

 

Ellora`s Cave Backlist and Upcoming Releases

Bound, Boarded and Bagged

Coming soon . . . Long Change and Shutdown Pair

 

Write on my friends, write on! 

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Final Shifts with VL Locey


V.L. Locey has done it again.  I swear this woman is cranking them out faster than I can keep track of!  I have the great pleasure of hosting her again. In addition to penning her own series,  she continues to encourage our morning writing group.  It’s an honor to count her as friend.

Don’t miss this installment of her To Love a Wildcat Series!

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4 flames
Secret Cravings Publishing

The only constant in life is that things will change when you least expect it. On the day of Derrick Andersson`s retirement ceremony, a late-season tropical storm parks itself over the City of Brotherly Love. The women who love the Wildcats will not only have to deal with the deluge outside, they will have to struggle through some of the greatest personal storms they will ever weather.

Liz and Veikko receive devastating news, Maggie and Derrick face a shocking announcement, and Isabelle and Philip receive the verdict of Philip’s court battle. Can Viviana and Alain work out the problems that have torn them apart? What has life dealt young lovers Petro and Margarite? The answers to those questions, as well as a surprise that will rock the Houseman, are revealed in this final book of the To Love a Wildcat series.

 Now here’s a little taste of what is between the covers: 

Maggie

“Don’t dis Granny Andersson,” he commented with a rather wry tone.

“You’re far too old to be using the term dis, my good man.”

“Yah? Well, last night you weren’t dissing me,” he countered quickly. I held up my hairbrush in a sign of defeat. He was right. There was no dissing last night. There was some moaning, gyrating, and pillow thumping, but nary a dis. “Ha! That got you good, eh?”

I nodded to give the man his due. His face split into a wide grin, white teeth brilliant against the dark brown of his beard.

“Yah, that’s right. Who is the man?” he asked, puffing out his chest like a proud bantam rooster. Cocky bugger.

“You are.” I sighed with proper defeatism in my tone.

He dropped his face to my neck, smooched my ear loudly, and then whistled gleefully while he finished shaving. I cleaned shaving cream out of my ear with the corner of a hand towel. Ever since we moved in with Derrick, my mornings have been so much more enjoyable. We wake up curled around each other, we play as we shower. Sometimes we play in the shower! The man makes me smile. He warms my heart when I awaken more than the sun that creeps into our window bright and early. I simply cannot imagine not having these precious few moments every morning now. After he had stepped into the shower, I thought to ask. Mascara wand in my right hand I turned to stare at his large form behind smoked glass. The query was lingering on the tip of my tongue. I swallowed it down. I’d let him broach the subject of his retirement ceremony tonight. Things with the team were dicey to say the least. Not a player or person in management wasn’t walking on eggshells. I turned back to the mirror to finish my makeup as Derrick hummed something by Blake Shelton as he lathered and rinsed.

We emerged from our room about twenty minutes later, Derrick in the suit and tie all NHL players and staff are required to wear into and leaving the stadium. His tie was loose yet, and his dark brown jacket lay over his left arm. I had pulled on a rather somber looking navy dress, as I would be accompanying Isabelle to court yet again. Just thinking about my duties made me nervous. There was so much to handle being the personal assistant to a woman that owns a hockey team, as well as several other multimillion-dollar businesses. Thank God I was only tasked with making sure Isabelle’s day ran like clockwork. My boss worried me. Her blood pressure was skyrocketing, her sugar count was high, and her OB/GYN had given her strict dietary guidelines to follow. I feared if she went back next Monday at nine, and her BP and sugar weren’t any lower, her doctor would be forced to put her on strict bed rest until her son was born. Knowing Isabelle that would last exactly four hours. Then she would be up doing something. What if Philip were found guilty? She would be forced to fire him. The Commissioner was already riding her like Secretariat about the Wildcats. First Petro and now Philip. And this mess surrounding last year’s Stanley Cup winners? The commissioner was not happy. Not at all.

“Hey, you need to put them there grinds into the filter and not the pot, Mags.”

I shook off the spiraling dark thoughts. There I stood, in my kitchen, the coffee pot filled with coffee, and the filter resting inside the basket empty.

These books will make hockey fans out of all of us yet!

Buy Links:

Secret Cravings Store –http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php…

Amazon-http://tinyurl.com/nqvzarf

All Romance-https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-finalshifts-176119…

Bookstrand-http://www.bookstrand.com/final-shifts

B&N-http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1121378236?ean=2940151605953

 

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Yes. I admit it. I love goalies. Love, love, love, love goalies! I’m not sure why I adore them as I do. Perhaps it`s how cool they are under pressure. Or how steely-eyed they are when we get a quick peek inside that mask. Or maybe it`s how agile they are, how swiftly they can move their lean muscular bodies . . .

Ahem. Yes. Well, I do like goalies a great deal. Here are three of my favorite twine-minders.

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#1- Henrik Lundqvist, goalie for the New York Rangers

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#2-Marc Andre Fleury, goalie for the Pittsburgh Penguins

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#3-Jonathon Bernier, goalie for the Toronto Maple Leafs

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Author Bio:

 V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and three steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, tsú, and GoodReads.

I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

tsú – https://www.tsu.co/vllocey

Secret Cravings Backlist Books and Upcoming Releases

Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

O Captain! My Captain! (Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Language of Love (Book Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Tumble Dry

Coming in August of 2015 only from Secret Cravings . . .  Clean Sweep (Book One of The Venom erotic hockey romance series)

Torquere Press Backlist and Upcoming Releases

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology)

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 3: He’s a Lumberjack and He`s Undead

Love of the Hunter

Goaltender`s Penalty

All I Want for Christmas

 Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)

 Night of the Jackal

An Erie Halloween

An Erie Operetta

Coming 4/1/15 exclusively from Torquere Press . . . Early to Rise – A Toms & Tabbies Tale.

An Eerie Operetta


I have the pleasure of hosting my good friend V.L.Locey once again. This woman cranks them out at an astonishing pace.  Her latest release, An Eerie Operetta is an Erotic M/M Shifter Romance.  Can you imagine a skunk shifter?  Well V. L. has! Please welcome my guest today,  V.L. Locey. (She didn’t bring zombie hunters this time!)

Thank you, Ellie, for hosting me yet again!

Hello everyone, I’m V.L. Locey and I’m an erotic romance author. I dabble in a few genres as well as cross boundaries and pen both M/F and M/M romances. Just call me a rebel! I know that there are old rules about writing and that many feel that those rules should not be broken. One of those rules is that authors should never cross genres.

I respectfully disagree. I see nothing wrong with an author writing about zombies then leaping into a western if that is what the writer wishes to do. If Authoress Alice wishes to cross genre lines to write an M/M sports romance, why not? The world is too full of restrictions that try to strangle our creativity. I firmly believe that readers are savvy enough to know if they wish to follow Authoress Alice from her last M/F historical romance into an M/M sports romance. Sometimes readers will follow a favorite author into a new genre and discover that they enjoy it!

Here’s the cover teaser: 

Templeton Reed, skunk shifter, is having trouble sharing a mansion with wolf shifters, even if one is his beloved Mikel, the alpha of the pack. Winter has settled over Lupei mansion and cabin fever is pushing the pack into rowdy behavior. To counter the boredom, and to instill some decorum into his fellow wolves, Mikel announces a trip to the opera is in order.

At first, Templeton is thrilled to be attending such a prestigious event. He is, after all, a lesser breed, and has never been privy to such glamorous entertainment. Sadly, what starts out as a night of opulence and refinement turns into a murder mystery when Templeton discovers a body in the cheap seats. Who, or what, has killed one of the elite of the Lake Erie shifter community? Who is the stranger that arrives to oversee the murder investigation and why is he insisting on staying at Lupei Manor? Will Templeton survive long enough to see act two?

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Excerpt:

 “Our carriage will be waiting,” Mikel said. I nodded in understanding. The cold was bracing after the humidity of so many tightly packed bodies in the ship`s lounge. I inhaled to clear the overlap of perfume and cologne from my nose. We wasted no time in finding the Lupei carriage. It was a huge black and red carriage attached to four ebony steeds pawing at the cobblestone street.

“You higher breeds and your need to cling to the past,” I said with a shake of my head as I climbed inside.

“It’s not all of us,” Mikel replied, sitting down beside me on a velvet-covered seat. “I would be just as happy to use a limo, but protocol must be adhered to. One does not arrive at the Osterman Opera House in anything less than a four-horse. It is simply not done.” He mimed one of the old puma matriarchs we had chatted with during the boat ride. The way he wrinkled his patrician nose was quite adorable. I wanted to kiss him passionately, for his humor always appealed, but didn’t. Dave and Eddie had seen us exchange goodbye pecks, but nothing more than that. I patted his thick thigh instead as I chuckled at the impersonation. The Halfling driver cracked a sharp-sounding whip. The carriage jerked as the horses took off into the night.

“Where exactly is the Osterman located?” I asked as we bounced along a road much older than I was. I knew that the opera house had been named after Oliver Osterman, one of the first of our kind to settle along the shores of Erie. Aside from that, I knew little, as it was intended. If we lessers knew nothing of the excesses of the aristocracy then we would not grow envious. Or so the elders had thought. Fools, the whole lot of them.

“If I told you I would have to kill you,” the alpha replied. I turned my head to look deeply into his eyes. I quickly saw the humor.

“Funny,” I said with a practiced eye roll. I removed my speckled glasses to dry them with my handkerchief.

“I try. Actually, I’m not sure of its exact whereabouts. I do know we’re travelling north, but aside from that I couldn’t say. Personally, I never cared to find out when I was younger. My father and mother were avid operagoer’s who dragged my sister and me along to ensure we had culture to counteract our bloody natures. Thankfully, as I matured, I grew to love the classics.”

Mikel grew wistful as he always did discussing his family. I knew enough to let him work out the taking of his sister’s life in his own way. I did lean my head on his shoulder as I wiped my spectacles. He placed a kiss to my hair then fell into silence.

“So,” I said to Dave and Eddie as I inspected my lenses, “you two are rather quiet. Did one of the cats get your tongues?” I snorted at my own wittiness.

“We don’t fit in,” Dave mumbled. I squinted at the two men across from us through highly smudged glasses. They looked miserable.

“Of course you do. You look quite dashing,” I said as I rubbed a lens with more vigor. “Also, you’re part of the Lake Erie pack. That gives you both standing far above what I have. Why, any wolven mama would be proud to mate her bitch pup to either one of you.”

They were saved from having to reply by the slowing of the carriage. Cursing my need to wear glasses, I shoved the smeared spectacles back onto my face. The driver opened the door. Mikel waved off the man in fine red and black livery. I stepped down cautiously, not wanting to fall flat on my face in front of the famous Osterman…

“By the elders,” I gasped when I lay eyes on the opera house.

 

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Author Bio:

 V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and  two steers: one named after a famous N.H.L. goalie while the other carries the moniker of a 60`s pop legend.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

tsú – https://www.tsu.co/vllocey

Secret Cravings Backlist Books and Upcoming Releases

Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

O Captain! My Captain! (Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Language of Love (Book Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

Tumble Dry

Coming in 2015 only from Secret Cravings  . . . Final Shifts (Book Six of the To Love a Wildcat Series) and Clean Sweep (Book One of the Venom Series)

Torquere Press Backlist and Upcoming Releases

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology)

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham

Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 3″ He’s a Lumberjack and He`s Undead

Love of the Hunter

Goaltender`s Penalty

All I Want for Christmas

 Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)

 Night of the Jackal

Coming in 2015 exclusively from Torquere Press . . . Early to Rise – A Toms & Tabbies Tale.

Two Guys Walk into . . . Wait, what do you mean there are no Twinkies?


This post has nothing to do with NANOWRIMO.  Except for the fact that V.L.Locey stays in the habit of writing during NANOWRIMO.  She is one of my writing buddies throughout the year and I have learned a great deal from this awesome woman!  If it’s not hockey it’s zombies!  The things she dreams up – oye! 

Welcome my guest, friend, and fellow writer – V.L.Locey sharing a bit from her newest release -Two Guys Walk into an Apocalypse 3, a Zom- rom com! 

Before I start chatting about zombies I`d like to thank Ellie for having me back again, she must be getting tired of seeing me here. I`m like a bad penny, or that creepy third cousin that shows up at family affairs, or a zombie virus outbreak. Nice segue huh?

Smooth – very smooth!  I thank you for not bringing the guys this time .  Not that they aren’t welcomed,  just . . . . well I had to  toss the  sofa and  wingback chair after their previous visit.  Couldn’t seem to get that decaying zombie flesh off the sofa,  and  a piece  on the arm of the chair was still twitching –  it rather freaked me out.  Glad to have you back!

I know that many people just cannot think about romance and zombies being in the same book. I mean that is just squicky, and nasty, right? Well, not necessarily. If you stop and think about it, when would love ever be more important? The world is falling apart, the dead are rising up, and the Twinkies are all gone. Having someone to love and cuddle during such a horrendous time would certainly make survival that much easier. Just think of Daryl and Carol. Go on. I’ll give you a minute.

*Takes moment to enjoy recollections of Norman Reedus looking all sexy and whatnot*

 Yeah, recalling their reunion made me tear up too. See, love and romance and spicy things are needed when one is facing an apocalypse. With that in mind, may I present my newest novella in the Two Guys zom-rom-com series?

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Blurb:

Paul and Gordon aren’t your typical zombie hunters. They’re a loving couple of educators who might be infected by the virus that is turning the world’s population into mindless, undead eating machines. So why haven`t they turned?  Well, Gordon has a theory about that. He suspects that those who march under the rainbow flag just might be carrying the cure for the plague in their bloodstream. Zendra, the massive pharmaceutical company where the mutated virus was made, certainly seems to be in a hurry to round-up all the gay survivors they can grab.

To avoid the clutches of Zendra, Paul, his partner Gordon, and a ragtag band of survivors head into the Great White North – the land of maple syrup, hockey, lumberjacks, and thick bacon. Here they plan to spend the winter, hopefully safe from roaming bands of undead, militaristic companies with far too much power, seedy groups of other survivors, and the always dreaded moose. Can two guys in love lead a motley crew to safety?

Two Guys Walk Into An Apocalypse 3: He`s a Lumberjack and He’s Undead is available at the Torquere Press Store, as well as all major eBook retailers.

 

Excerpts:

PG:

My sigh and a steady but thin stream of urine pattering on the pine needles and last fall’s dead leaves were the only noises until something stepped on a branch directly behind me. The dead bough cracked like a pistol. My urine stopped flowing as my heart dropped into my gut. A hot breath blew over the back of my neck causing every fine hair to stand up on end. The exhalation stank of rotten teeth and pond scum. With one hand, I tucked the shriveled beast back into its BVD cage. If a phobie was going to rip me into strips I was not dying with my *#*#  out. That’s just a thing I have. Death can claim me but my genitals will be covered if I can manage it.

With a very unhurried demeanor and a sudden weakness in my legs and knees, I simultaneously reached behind my back for the gun while I swiveled my head around. The largest brown eyes I have ever seen gazed down at me. The creature shook its massive head and blew snot from its nostrils. My fingertips skimmed the gun as a scream of sheer horror escaped me. The moose promptly freaked out. It bulled forward (I know, it’s funny isn’t it? Bull plus moose. Ha. Ha. God, I hate moose) as if someone had rammed a hot poker up its bunghole.

I pulled the gun free and fired. The moose got over being scared and got royally pissed off, which was rather a bit of irony since I now was fearful of losing control of my bladder. Where I hit the monstrous beast from hell I do not know but I think we can rest assured that it was not a killing shot. Bullwinkle threw his head to the left and right. I turned to run, was hit in the shoulder by a moose brow and was thrown to the side like some insignificant gay Raggedy Andy. My face met a tree, my gun flew from my hand, and Sir Moose attacked the nearest bush thinking — in its brilliant moose way — that the bush was the man who had screamed in its face and then shot beside its ear. I watched all this from the ground where I was balled up in a fetal position, whimpering about the sap on my lower lip.

My shot must have roused the camp, for within a moment (although between you and me it felt much more like several hours) the sound of people crashing through the woods broke through the snorting, thrashing, and pawing the long-headed cousin of Bambi was doing. A brilliant light swept the area. I screamed. The moose spun from his bush battle. Rider and Gordon skidded into the scene, the beams from their flashlights hitting the moose right in his ugly, flubbery face. Gordon raised a shotgun into the air but never got the chance to shoot. The moose plunged between the men, sending both diving to opposite sides. Bouncing shafts of light accompanied the departure of the moose as he crashed away into the land of nightmares.

“Sweet Jeezus,” I heard Rider pant somewhere in the darkness. “Damned shame I didn’t have my deer rifle, we could have eaten on that bitch for a month.”

“Paul, are you okay?” my partner called as he struggled to get to his feet and locate his flashlight.

A mousey sound tumbled from me. I coughed and tried several times to find my voice. When I located it down by my spleen, I had a question for my saviors. “Did– Did he mean ‘bitch’ like that animal was a female, or like some sort of rural Southern expression like ‘Damn son, we could have eaten on that bitch for a week!’ when in actuality the beast was a male?”

Torque Press: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_85&products_id=4288

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Two-Guys-Walk-Into-Apocalypse-ebook/dp/B00P00RC0G/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1414616464&sr=8-5&keywords=v.l.+locey

Thank you  for sharing that little bit.  I can’t wait to delve into this!   I have to confess I haven’t read it yet,  I am behind on my reading since I’ve been required to read  numerous other dry  materials for the day job. 

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Author Bio:

             V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a steer named after a famous N.H.L. goalie, and a flock of assorted domestic fowl.

When not writing lusty tales, she can be found enjoying her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania, fresh cup of java in hand.

I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

 

More V.L. Locey Torquere Press books:

 Two Guys Walk Into An Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology), Two Guys Walk Into An Apocalypse 2:It Came From Birmingham, Love of the Hunter, Goaltender`s Penalty, All I Want for Christmas, Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology), Night of the Jackal.

 And coming soon exclusively from Torquere Press . . . An Erie Operetta and Early To Rise – A Toms & Tabbies Tale.

 

Reality Check


My good friend and writing pal V.L. Locey has done it again! She shoots she scores! 

I have the privelege of being in a morning sprint group with this lovely lady. She is inspiring, encouraging and down to earth real  and not afraid to tell it like it is.  I have the utmost respect for her! Plus, she kicks my butt frequently!

Today marks the release for her latest addition,  Reality Check (Book 4 of the To Love a Wildcat Series) by V.L. Locey

BLURB:

The team owner/head coach relationship can be a tenuous one at times. Isabelle Lancourt can testify to just how stressful it can be. Ever since her husband passed away, leaving her his beloved Wildcats, she and Philip Moore have been at loggerheads. When the opportunity to sign a Russian hotshot presents itself, Isabelle leaps at the chance to prove herself as more than just a pretty face. Dealing with hot flashes, salary caps, and trade deadlines she can handle with ease. The aftermath of an ill-advised, but erotically superb, rendezvous in Siberia with the handsomely annoying Coach Moore? That was not in any Wildcats playbook. Can Isabelle and Philip handle the changes life is about to throw at them? Or will combining their personal and professional lives prove to be a misconduct penalty that the league simply cannot overlook?

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Buy Links:

Secret Cravings Store

Amazon

 Excerpts: 

“I hate to be termed over-reactionary or whiny bitch,” I opened with. The man crammed into a seat two sizes too small for him mumbled something unintelligible across the thin aisle. “And far be it for me to complain, but I think the left wing is about to fall off.”

Within a heartbeat Moore was out of his seat and leaning across me. My nose was burrowed into his shirt pocket. That brisk seafaring scent he wore wrapped its arms around my olfactory to hug my sense of smell tightly. I drew in a deep breath, held it, tasted the tang of cologne and man, then exhaled through my mouth. Philip shifted a bit.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his bulk sliding downward a bit, so that his stomach rested on the rickety arm of my mouse-chewed seat. “I think it’s just the bounce of the plane over the turbulence,” he announced after a long, and not unpleasant, moment of his abdomen brushing my breasts. When I made a weak sound of hope in reply, he glanced from the window to me, a small twist of a smile playing on his lips. The impact of our positions hit me like a cinderblock to the head. His mouth was mere inches from mine now. I could see him swallow roughly. His jaw and neck were dark with new whiskers. I wanted to feel the rasp of his stubble on my neck, breasts, and inside my thighs. I wanted. Oh, hell yes, I wanted.

The blue of his irises darkened as I studied my reflection in his eyes. Was it desire I saw, or something else profound and powerful? Love and hate share lots of secrets, being such close friends as they are. The plane hit a ball of violent air. My head coach nearly went to his knees in front of me. My fingers dug even deeper into the arms of my seat. Philip gathered himself quickly, wiggling from the space between my knees and the crummy seat in front of me.

“Sorry,” he coughed, hurrying back to his own seat. I nodded, neck tight, spine stiff, heart hammering, and thighs twitching. “You remind me of Christine,” he said out of the blue. I managed to make my head creak around to look at him. The man was in control once again. Wish I could be so quick to move from one frightening thing to another. Shit, I was still freaking out about the way my body responded to his. “She didn’t mind flying until we hit turbulence,” he explained, wistfully.

“Every time we would run into a rough patch, her eyes would grow bigger.” He paused to find me looking at him. “She had these wide eyes anyway, so she always looked surprised,” he clarified. I nodded, knowing how important talking about our lost ones is. “Anyway, when she would feel the slightest jounce up she would go, eyes as big as basketballs, and into the ladies’ room she would dash. Once, on a flight down to Florida to see our youngest son Drew when he was in college, Christine spent the entire flight in the bathroom.” He chuckled in amusement. The sound was incredibly pleasing. My anxiety lessened a bit. “I used to tease her about the well-known safety features of a ladies’ powder room during a plane crash. Sometimes our fears get the best of us, though. She knew she was just as screwed as everyone else on that plane, but something about that cramped little girls’ room made her feel less vulnerable, I suppose.”

“Colton used to say ‘There ain’t no point in fretting about dying. If the good Lord says it’s your time, then it’s your time, darling!” I tossed out in my best Texan accent. Philip laughed uneasily.

“That sounds like Colton,” he said, running his palms over his thighs briskly. I wanted to ask him how he had dealt with his wife’s death. I knew she had passed a few years back from cancer, leaving him and their two grown sons to carry on. “He was a good man. He’s sorely missed.”

 

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Author Bio:

V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs,  reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers,  comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a steer named after a famous N.H.L. goalie,  a pig named after a famous President, and a flock of assorted domestic fowl.

When not writing spicy romances, she can be found enjoying her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.

I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

 

Secret Cravings Backlist Books:

Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

O Captain! My Captain!(Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)

 

Go check out her other books as well!  Way to go Vicki!

Write on my freinds, and read a good book!

O Captain! My Captain! Excerpt


Did you enjoy the interview with Vicki?

Here`s an excerpt from O Captain! My Captain!, book 3 of the To Love a Wildcat erotic hockey romance series. Secret Cravings Publishing is the publisher for this series, and the release date is July 9th, 2014.

 
I`ll give you the PG excerpt. 
 
        “Yeah, can you two please find a room and use it. That is just so wrong.” My son went back upstairs. My lips left Derrick’s against their wishes.
“We are just so wrong,” I whispered over Derrick’s tempting mouth. I looked deeply into his green eyes, fascinated as always by the flecks of gold that highlighted the jade.
“But it feels so right,” he said, and then kissed me again. A low, long rumble that came from his stomach finally broke up our totally wrong hello make-out session. “Sorry about that,” the man said as he stepped back from me to rub his belly. “I didn’t eat since breakfast. Whatever you’re cooking, it smells real good, Maggie.”
“It’s nothing fancy, just spaghetti with my secret sauce, a tossed salad, and an apple crisp for dessert,” I said as his fingers slid into mine. I led him to the kitchen. “Have a seat while I get the water on to boil. Beer?” I asked while opening the fridge. “I bought some Grain Belt at the beer distributor.”
“I think I love you,” the big man said while lowering himself into a chair. The chair legs complained a bit. “How’d you know?”
“I’m full of surprises,” I said as I handed him a cold bottle of Grain Belt Nordeast, a golden American lager, as well as a bottle opener. Derrick took a long pull once the top was off. His eyes drifted shut in ecstasy. “Actually, I saw a picture of you on the internet wearing a Grain Belt t-shirt during a fishing trip with the guys.”
“No one makes beer the way they make it in Minnesota,” he sighed, dreamily. I smiled at him and opened a bottle for myself before returning to work. I turned on the hot water, and then filled my favorite non-stick stew pot. “So what did you think of that second game?”
 
I glanced over my shoulder. “I think it was a good thing you won or Veikko would be out of goalie sticks.”
Derrick grinned widely. My fingers were itchy to get to that beard of his, or his chest, or his hairy legs. Is there anything finer than that wondrous abrasion of a man’s body hair on your smoothly shaven body? Phew. I needed to simmer down. It would be a long time before Trevor went to sleep. I concentrated on putting the water on the gas flame instead of that brisk cologne that was tempting me.
“Those Finns, they got some wicked tempers,” he commented between sips of his favorite beer.
“And you don’t?” I laughed out loud before I stole a sip of beer. I turned to look at him. Big mistake. He looked so perfect in my kitchen, sitting back completely relaxed, sharing a beer with me as we made small talk. I spun around. My mind needed an occupation besides daydreaming. I gave it the job of making the salad. The conversation went from one thing to another. Light stuff, nothing serious or heavy. He chatted about his days in the minors. I told him about my years being a stay-at-home mother. I didn’t tell him why I stayed home. The man didn’t need to know I wasn’t allowed to work outside the home. I might have cheated on Travis if I had a job, you see. I also might have had some money to leave his abusive ass, which I’m sure the man knew. Keeping me home without cash was just another means of keeping me under his thumb, the miserable—
“Hey, you still here with me?”
I bobbled the knife I was chopping those fresh peppers with. “Yes, of course,” I lied to the man now standing directly behind me. He was terribly sneaky for such a big man. Or perhaps I had been terribly distracted. His fingers were cold when he brushed a strand of hair from my cheek.
“Where do you go, Maggie?” Derrick asked, and then placed a kiss under my ear.
“Sorry. Sometimes I sink into a dark place in the past,” I replied as I got back to chopping. “Someday, I’ll tell you about it.”
        “Fair enough.” He stood behind me, arms tight around my waist. It was the most enjoyable salad prep I had ever been involved in.
*                    *                    *
Wow. I can’t wait for  this one to come out. Whew!   That’s all for today folks, gotta regroup here.
Write on my friends, write on!

Interview with Author V.L. Locey


Well folks, today I have another guest in ” studio”.  Hmmm, that’s being rather liberal but it sounded better than ‘ hanging out in the kitchen’.  While I  offer up a pot of my best Black Silk, I got the chance to talk with my good friend Vicki Locey. 

I first met her  through Storytime Trysts.  She wrote several steamy stories for our readers on that blog.  Over time, we’ve developed a morning sprint group where we challenge and encourage each other. Some days we do better than others, but one thing that has held true for me – she is an encouragement.  Her example of diligence is motivating.  

With several books under her belt now, this fine lady shared some insight with me.

Do you consider yourself a creative?

I do now. There was a time that I didn`t consider myself creative or artistic. I assumed being artistic meant you painted, or that being creative meant you made something: knitting, needlepoint, pottery, sculpting, that sort of thing. It took me some time to come to terms with myself as an artist. Now I understand that I paint with words.

 Eloquently stated.  I agree, sometimes we tend to pigeonhole.  I thought for many years that since I can’t sing,  have no aptitude for painting or sculpting that I wasn’t an artist.  However, I’ve had many people tell me they loved this piece or that one, that I began changing my view which led me to research this topic of creatives. 

What  media do you use to express this?

Books.

 What  inspires you?  Discuss a specific time that inspiration struck.

My inspiration can come from anywhere or anything. A song on the radio. A severe thunderstorm. A comment made when having coffee with friends.

Oh cool!  Maybe something we talk about today will spark something.  At least you didn’t bring the zombie goo this time. *Vicki. levels  a look at me unsure that I’m joking*

Okay. So you want specifics, eh? I was having coffee with some fellow women authors. One, who is also a hockey fanatic, mentioned something about a rowdy game that she feared would roll out into the parking lot after the game. That tiny comment went home with me, nipping at the corners of my mind. By the next day, I had the idea and characters all worked out for my first M/M hockey novella. Boom. Just like that.

Wow!  That’s Impressive.  I usually don’t get the entire story that quickly, just a basic idea.  Do you ever struggle for inspiration?

Not generally. I seem to struggle to contain all the ideas. Sifting through the chaff to find the good ideas is always hard. They all seem brilliant when they flare to life.

“Oh. My. God. A book about zombie cats who ride Harleys! Yes! YES!”

Uhm. No, Vicki. Let`s not and say we did.

Sounds like some of my ideas when I am sleep deprived.  LOL!

 OOH!  I know, I’ll write a story about a zombie dog that infects the other dogs at the pound!  Right,  a french poodle, a mutt, and a chihuahua!  Yeah, It will be funny!  * shakes head sadly*

 Ok, moving on – Which is more daunting, beginning or the perseverance to finish,  or cutting the “umbilical cord”?

I don`t have any real issues with starting, or finishing.

Cutting the cord? Sometimes, but not usually. If I know that it`s done, then it`s done. I`ve polished it the best I can. Time to submit it and see if the publisher agrees. Sometimes they don`t. Sometimes they do.

I love that about you!  The fact that you don’t get riled up, or stressed out over  it. I’m trying to  learn from your example on that one,  I get all wound up over just the idea that they might reject my work.  Yeah,  I know I have issues. 

Describe your process from inception of an idea to conclusion of your work.

I start with the idea. Then I begin to masticate it, like a new stick of gum. Chewing it over and over, tasting the flavor on my tongue. If it tastes like a winner, then I open a file. In that file are two Word documents. One for the manuscript itself, the other one that I title Odds & Ends. The Odds & Ends document will have my character bios, supporting characters, any information that is relevant to the book, and images of the cast if I can find pictures that I think fit.

OMG – I do that too!  I look online for  people that “fit” the look I am going for  on my characters,  then  put them on the character index cards for easy reference.  I know I need to  move to the modern age and go digital, but I like my cards. 

Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.  Please continue. 
 
I do not do long involved plot skeletons. I do a beginning, middle, and end. That`s it. I have learned that for me, meticulous plotting silences my muse. She has already written that story and will not rewrite it. So, yeah, Madame Pantser here pretty much leaps on her bike and freewheels through her books. So far it seems to be working out okay.

 Hmm,  I will have to think about what you just said as I’ve fought with my muse numerous times to  get the story written, and she points to my outline and shrugs. 
Of the characteristics of a creative, which category most describes you?  Which one least fits you?
Probably Passions best describes me. The one that least fits I would say is Head Games. I see my traits scattered throughout the categories so it`s really hard to choose just one.

Do you struggle with discouragement, distractions,  or lack of motivation?
Online distractions, yes, at times. I’ve learned to simply turn off Facebook or Pinterest when it`s time to work.

Lack of motivation isn’t a problem of mine.

Discouragement? Sure. There are times I wonder if anyone cares, if anyone is reading my work, if I should just give it up. Then, something seems to come along, a pleasant review or a teenager that hugs me because she has never seen LGBT novels in our county before. Yeah, that lifts me back up. It makes me want to write more.

How do you fund your  lifestyle, and  how would you describe your lifestyle?
Well, my lifestyle isn’t really anything that needs a lot of funding. I`m an author, so I stay at home. I`m still trying to break even on the self-published books I had printed. If you`re looking to get rich, be a doctor or a hockey player. Trust me on that one. The majority of us are maybe making enough to pay for editing on our next books if they’re indie.

Yeah,  I know a lot of people that think if they write A book,  one book that they will be the next Stephen King or J.K. Rowling.  Right,  like it’s sooo easy.  They never think of  people like Mark Twain that lived close to poverty even though he was a world recognized author.  Agatha Christie wrote fantastic tales yet she didn’t live in the lap of luxury. For every  rich author, there are hundreds that earn a decent income and still another hundred that  make just enough to keep the lights on.  Sorry, pet peeve there.  * Sips coffee and offers a refill to Vicki*

Tell me about two of your works that you are most proud of.
Of Gods & Goats. It was my first book, and although I`ve learned so much since it went into print, it still symbolizes how brave I was to enter a new career at 50. I`m quite proud of all my works, but perhaps my To Love a Wildcat series is, at the moment, the one I`m feeling the most pride about. Of course, that will probably change when the next series begins, but this one is special. The non-conformity to the size two, perky blonde, white, twenty-year-old cookie cutter romantic leading lady is the reason I`m so proud of my Wildcats stories.

Ha!  I hear you there!  I am all about the nonconformity of my characters, even though I was recently chastised for writing  the overused themes, the damsel in distress thing –  I honestly don’t think I have any damsel in distress in any of my writings.  OK maybe in VAlkyrie’s Curse, I’ll have to look at that one again.  It’s on  the back burner anyway. 

 

What life titles do you hold?  ( mother, brother, sister, dad, uncle, editor, artist, graphic designer, nurse, husband, etc.)

 

Mother, sister, wife, author, chicken herder, hater of commas, reader, hockey fan.

Would you be willing to share a picture of your workspace?

It`s my kitchen table. Someday, maybe, I might have a desk, but until that day all the smutty magic happens here:

 

Vicki's workspace

Have you ever jotted down your idea on a napkin, torn bag, wrapper, or sketched a quick drawing of an item on any of the above?

For sure. Many times! I`ve also leaped out of the shower, repeating an idea or a line of dialog over and over until I can find a towel and a pen and paper.

 

What  piece of advice would you offer other creative?

 

Never let others determine your destiny. Don`t let family and friends tell you that you`re too old, too young, too fat, too skinny, too white, too black, too rich or too poor to pursue your dreams.

 

 That is great advice!  I wish I’d heard it many years ago.  Thank you for coming by and sharing  coffee with me, and for allowing me to pick your brain for my readers.

Vicki Locey
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, anything romantic, Greek mythology, New York Rangers hockey,  comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a steer named after a famous N.H.L. goalie,  a pig named after an American President, and a flock of assorted domestic fowl. When not writing romantic tales, she can be found enjoying her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand, writing, or cheering on her beloved New York Rangers. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, and GoodReads.

I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at:

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

On Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=V.L.%20Locey&search-alias=digital-text&sort=relevancerank 

Write on my friends, and go read a good book!