Thursday, March 5, 2015

Throwback Thursday Tune

I double dog dare you not to sing this song for the rest of the day. I always found their music to be really catchy. Do you have a fave Eagles tune?

Monday, March 2, 2015

Tuesday Tales - Address

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

 Today we have the next chapter for Wind in White Birch and our word prompt is "Address". Don`t forget to visit the other talented Tuesday Tales authors. Thanks for stopping by!

Wind in White Birch

             I met her at the door with a smile and an outstretched hand. She took the offer. Her grip was strong, her fingers and palm calloused. I was about to introduce myself when something that resembled the man I was dating staggered into the side of the double-wide, young boys hooting like banshees hanging off him. My son and a Native American boy roughly Rhett`s age had bear grips on Jonah`s left leg and were laughing hysterically. I wasn`t sure if I should break up the roughhousing or not. Generally I didn`t let Rhett act so wild.
            “Jonah, don`t bring them inside. Take them to the back porch to strip off. Andy doesn`t want snowy kids making puddles on his carpet.”
“Jules, meet Dana. Dana, my one and only sister Julia, the oldest and sternest of Will Big Deer`s six – Ack!” He fell backwards with a young man dangling off him like a monkey, the child`s arms garroting Jonah by the looks.
“Take it around back,” Julia warned. Somehow, he managed to lurch and stumble around the side of the house, my son still stuck to his leg like a burdock. I smiled at Julia then stepped into the doublewide. It was packed with Big Deer`s. Adults and children roamed from one room to another with food and drink. Julia had my elbow. 
I was introduced to a staggering lineup of men who all resembled Jonah strongly. There was an older brother Jim and his wife Olivia, then Jason and his wife Cassidy who was non-native like me and quite pregnant, Jared and his fiancĂ© Sue Looking Fox who was from the Oneida tribe, and then there was John who was single and four years older than Jonah at thirty. I wished I had a pen and notepad to write down the names of the children each couple had. I would never remember them all. Julia led me into the kitchen. Andy was seated at the table, his ever-present mug of coffee in hand. The counters were overflowing with dishes, platters, and aluminum serving pans.
“This is my husband Paul Windtalker,” Julia smiled, patting the thick arm of an imposing man with sharp brown eyes that twinkled with mischief. “And three of the boys that attacked Jonah were ours.”
“Why don`t you let the girl draw a breath and maybe get a meatball before you start the interrogation?” Paul suggested, giving me a smile before leaving the kitchen to watch some sort of sporting event on Andy`s flat screen. A meatball sounded good. It would ensure I didn`t have to talk to Julia, who I felt had things she wished to say to me, things about seducing her youngest brother with my cougar wiles at the top of the list. A loud shout erupted in the living room. Andy pushed up from his seat, cane in one hand and coffee in the other.
“I`m missing something,” he said then left me and Jonah`s big sister alone. I fidgeted with my jacket.
“I`m not planning on interrogating you,” Julia said, a bit of warmth igniting in her onyx eyes. “I do have a few questions,” she admitted candidly.
“I`m sure you do,” I smiled. I really wished I had a meatball or two. The sliding door flew open and a pack of half-naked boys raced inside, my son among them. They ran past the eldest of Jonah`s siblings and disappeared from sight. Then Jonah sauntered in, his arms filled with sodden coats, hats, mittens, and snow pants. He was not half-naked sadly. He was instantly on alert when he saw his sister and I were the only ones in the kitchen.
“Want to take some of these?” he asked, dumping the load into Julia`s arms before she agreed. “Man, I`m starved,” he said, looping a long arm over my shoulder then steering me to the buffet.
Julia threw something biting at her brother in Seneca. Jonah jerked his head at her, indicating that he thought she needed to leave. She did but it was not pleasantly.
“Don`t let her intimidate you,” he whispered, tugging me closer. “Ever since mom died she thinks she has to run our lives. Can we sneak off for an hour or two?”
I was beginning to feel like a dainty silk slip caught in an industrial washing machine. “I can`t just leave Rhett here with people he barely knows.”
“Sure you can,” Jonah argued stubbornly. “Watch.” He stalked to the doorway and yelled for Rhett. My son, still in wet Spider-Man underwear appeared with two lads of Seneca descent on either side of him. They were in superhero underwear as well. “Are you cool with staying here while I take your mom for a romantic ride?”
All three young men`s faces screwed up. “You two are gross,” Rhett said then ran off, his new buddies in underwear games on his heels. Not giving me time to speak Jonah then procured ten adults to keep an eye on my son. I had been outmaneuvered neatly. The man had me out the back door and into his truck quickly. I protested the entire time.
“I never got a meatball,” I pouted, pulling my seatbelt around me. Jonah folded himself behind the wheel.
“I did you a favor,” he said buckling up then backing out, “I think Sue made them and she can`t cook.”
“Now Sue is the one that`s married to Jim?” I burrowed into my coat, the interior having grown cold quickly.
“No, Sue is the one that`s engaged to Jared. It`s a pretty daunting group isn`t it?” he asked, slipping neatly out onto the road and heading west. “You`ll get them all down in time. So, are you really mad at me?”
I turned the heater vent away from my face. “I`m not fond of being bullied,” I confessed tartly.
“Yeah, I didn`t think that you would be. I`m sorry, but we really have some things to address.” I turned to look out the window.  “Dana, don`t shut me out.”
I nibbled my bottom lip then glanced over at him. “I`m not sure what to say to you,” I told him. “Can you just give me some time? I`m not good at thinking on my feet.”
“Yeah, okay, I can do quiet.” He cranked the heat and music up then fell into silence. I know I had asked for the quiet but after fifteen minutes, it was beginning to grate. We pulled off the road. I gazed out at a large field that had been transformed into a winter carnival. Lights, rides, attractions, tents, ice-skating and snow sculpting competitions awaited us.
“This looks nice,” I said instead of the snippy comment that was resting on my tongue. His hand lighting on my thigh pulled my attention from the crowds milling around.
“Let`s walk and talk,” he said.
            “Can we eat while we`re walking and talking?”
            His smile made my irritation dissipate instantly. “Yeah, we can surely do that.”

Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey


Click on the link below to return to the Tuesday Tales main blog for more great reads from the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.

See you next week!

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Cold Nights, Hot Reads Blog Hop--Prizes and Giveaways!

Welcome to my little corner of the internet Cold Nights, Hot Reads hoppers!

As you saw on my header, my name is V.L. Locey and I'm an erotic romance author. My bread and butter is M/F hockey romance but I dabble in some M/M paranormal romances as well. My muse likes to be able to pen what she wishes and not stay in certain genres. That`s what life is all about, right? Trying new things and stretching our wings can only be good.

It`s funny how many people have asked me why I started writing erotic romance. Why not just write something less smutty or sweet I hear repeatedly. Well, for one thing, I myself prefer explicit love scenes in a book I read. This does not mean I won`t read something that has all the action behind closed doors, it just means that I prefer to experience the consummation of the relationship I have invested so much time in.

Secondly, I feel that there is nothing wrong with sex between two consenting adults. A robust sex life is thing to take pride in and not hide. We need to bring human sexuality out of the shadows and embrace it as a natural part of what makes us who we are. And yes, that means gay sex and lesbian sex and all the other wonderful flavors of love and sensuality that exist! This is why I pen erotic romance and why I will continue to do so.

Today I'm going to share a small but sizzling excerpt from my latest M/F erotic hockey romance, Language of Love. This interracial book is the fifth novel in my To Love a Wildcat series, and features a young deaf woman, Margarite Lancourt, who finds herself in falling for the new Russian Wildcat, Petro Shevenko. I'll be giving away a copy of Language of Love to one lucky commenter so check out the entire post for contest information.

This excerpt is NSFW in any way, shape, or form. Which means you should not read it when your boss or any young child may look over your shoulder.


            I padded down the hallway, my body reacting in wicked ways to the mere thought of being with Petro. Our bedroom door was cracked. I peeked around it. My short inhalation upon seeing him shocked me. How could I love so deeply so fast? Was it because I was young and impetuous as Mama probably thought? I didn’t care. His dark eyes lifted from the old six-string that rested on his thighs. The man took up so much of the bed just a sliver of mattress was showing. That was my side. He smiled. My heart flipped over. Inside I went, closing the door behind me. Petro was in running shorts and nothing else. His hair was wet, his cheeks freshly shaven, his eyes burning with need.

            Sometimes a common language isn’t needed. I walked over to him, stood beside the bed, and reached out to place my hand on the body of the guitar. He wet his lips then strummed. The vibrations entered my fingers, raced up my arm, and electrified my soul. With a soft smile, I removed the guitar from his lap. He watched me intently, his sultry eyes hooded. I placed the guitar against the wall then began to strip. His eyes roamed over me, hot, possessive. I turned my back to him, teasing him as my skin flushed then prickled into bumps under his attentive perusal.

            His hands came to rest on my hips. His mouth touched my side. I inhaled sharply when he began tracing my tattoo with his tongue. Each branch, each leaf, each blossom he tasted. My nipples were stiff, aching. My arm rested on my head to give him access. I turned slightly, to offer him more of my ribs. He nipped, suckled, and explored my ink work. His fingers began to drift. One big hand slid between my legs. The other found a breast. My body twisted like a pretzel as he tried to please all the spots that cried out for attention. He pinched a hard nipple. 

          I bent forward, his index finger sliding between my folds. I thrust my hips outward. His hot mouth found a bloom to feast on. I slithered sideways even more. He groaned against my skin, the sound tickling my flesh, my bones. Then he began to probe. One finger. Two. Deep inside. Slipping in and out. Twisting. Bending. Searching for the spot. I turned in his arms, breaking the delicious contact of his mouth and my tattoo. He raised his glistening fingers to his mouth. I couldn’t look away as he cleaned my juices from his fingers then offered them to me.


For your chance to win a copy of Language of Love, tell me what your favorite genre of romance is. That`s it- no flaming hoops to jump through or ten different pages to visit. Just leave me a comment and I will choose one winner the day after the hop ends. Please be sure to leave your contact information. If you don`t I will have to skip over your comment because I simply do not have the time to track down people on the internet. So, leave your comment with your email address and make sure to visit all the other wonderful authors who are taking part in the hop. Good luck!

Skate hard and love deeply,

V.L. Locey


a Rafflecopter giveaway


Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Bragging Up My Boys!

Forgive me while I toot Templeton and Mikel`s horn for just a wee bit.

I was extremely excited to get an email from Torquere Press informing me that An Erie Operetta just made the All Romance eBooks Best Sellers List!

 The boys of Lake Erie are at #50 at the moment and I am just proud as Punch about seeing them there.

ARe Bestseller List

Thanks to everyone who grabbed a copy of Temp and Mikel`s latest adventure. Rest assured there are more tales planned for everyone`s favorite skunk shifter. If you haven`t got your copy yet, you can find it, and the first book in the series,  An Erie Halloween, at the following retailers:

Torquere Press Store

All Romance eBooks



Monday, February 23, 2015

Tuesday Tales - Arm

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

 Today we have chapter ten for Wind in White Birch and our word prompt is "Arm". Don`t forget to visit the other talented Tuesday Tales authors. Thanks for stopping by!

Wind in White Birch

How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? I knew he wanted to get into a deep conversation about this. It was obvious by the steady way he held my gaze. I just wasn`t prepared to deal with it now. It was too sudden and too intimate. Why was he laying this out to me as if I were his wife or something? We had gone on one mess of a date. Two if you counted this weekend.
We weren`t involved in a long-term relationship or had any kind of commitment to each other. He could stay up here at this lodge for the rest of his life without my input. I had no claims on him or his time. So why did the thought of not seeing him again feel like someone had taken a melon baller to my heart?
            Rhett gave me the out I needed. He had broken his icicle and appeared at our sides. I swallowed over the lump in my throat then tore my sight from Jonah to look down at my boy when he tugged on my arm.
            “Can we explore?” Rhett asked his cheeks rosy red and his eyes bright. Again, I was at a loss.
“I don`t know, maybe we can walk the property line?” I offered glancing at Jonah. He nodded his mouth a slash.
“We can walk down to the river. The property line runs for over fifteen hundred acres,” Jonah said, shoving from the side of the lodge to descend the steps.
Rhett seemed happy with that plan and scurried after Jonah. I followed the two intrepid explorers, my mittens shoved into my coat pockets, my scarf covering my face from the bridge of my nose down, and my thoughts scattered like the birds that took to wing when we walked underneath their perches.
The river was a glorious sight. It was a rough and tumbling swath of clear water. Ice formed at the edges. The sun reflected off the ice and rumbling water as it ran past us on the bank.
“Down there about a mile is a small pool that feeds into a lake. There`s native trout in there as long as your arm,” Jonah was telling Rhett. I shivered deep inside my coat as the man pointed downstream.
“We should get going,” I called over the pounding of water over boulders. Rhett complained about not seeing the trout lake, but ran ahead using the path that he and Jonah had made coming down. Keeping my eyes on my son I didn`t see Jonah sliding up beside me. I felt his presence and peeked over my scarf.
“I`d really like to get into this with you, Dana.”
I shook my head. “Not now, okay? Let`s get back to Andy`s and get some lunch. I need time to figure things out, Jonah.”
He studied me for a long moment. Sunbeams slid through the white birch woods, dappling his black hair and gorgeous high cheekbones with golden shapes of light.
“Yeah, okay, that`s fine,” he replied stiffly.
I wanted to say more, to try to make him understand how confused and scared I was, but six year old boys aren`t known for their sixth sense when it comes to intimate moments. The snowball hit me right in the face. I shrieked in shock and fright. Blinking rapidly to clear the crystals from my eyelashes, I saw my child rolling in the snow, laughing hysterically. I sputtered into my wet scarf and chanced a peek left. Jonah was the very picture of utter composure. Until he dared to look at me again, then he too lost it.
“Think that`s funny, huh?” I asked. The battle then began. It was a terribly lopsided fight but I managed to get a few good shots in before we all were soaked through. Once I heard Rhett`s teeth clattering I called a halt. The heater in the truck felt wonderful. Backing away from the lodge and stands of white birch I felt a sniggle of something unpleasant inside. It felt like jealousy. But how foolish would it be to be jealous of a building?
“Mom, can we go snowmobiling when we get to Andy`s?” Rhett asked as we left Jonah`s dream behind.
“That`s up to Jonah,” I said, peeling my sodden mittens and scarf off.
“How about we hit that up tomorrow, buddy?” Jonah said, finding my son in the rearview mirror. “I`ll need to time to tinker with my sled. It hasn`t been out of the garage since last year.”
“Okay!” my boy smiled then ran the back of his coat sleeve under his running cherry of a nose. The ride back to Andy`s was pleasant if not slightly stilted conversation wise. I suspected that Jonah would want to find some time to talk as soon as possible. Pulling off the main road into Andy`s graveled driveway and seeing at least six strange vehicles, I got a feeling one-on-one time wasn`t happening this afternoon.
“Shit,” Jonah sighed, staring at the cars, trucks, and single Jeep blocking the small drive. He dropped his truck into park and laid his arms over the steering wheel.
“Looks like company,” I smiled timidly. He gave me a quick sideways glance.
“No, it`s not company, it`s my sister and brothers,” he grumbled. Just then, the front door flew open and six boys were released from the confines of the doublewide like greyhounds freed from the starting gate. “And nieces and nephews,” Jonah tacked on when the rowdy group in thick coats, snow pants, gloves and hats raced over to greet their uncle. “I`m really sorry about this,” Jonah grimaced then jumped when a snowball smacked into the window beside his head. “I was hoping we`d be able to put them off until a later time, like next year or something. I wanted to talk to you about things.”
“It`s okay, we`ll talk later,” I said, rather relieved to have some plausible excuse for postponing this discussion.
It would give me time to get my mental ducks lined up, or at the very least flipped upright, so that their heads and not their asses were visible above the water. The driver’s side door was opened and a blast of cold air and young male laughter filled the cab. Jonah was unceremoniously pulled from the vehicle and bombarded. Rhett, laughing like a hyena, climbed over the front seat and dove out into the fracas. Somehow, Jonah managed to stay on his feet even with several young boys pummeling him with snow and trying to knock him into the deep powder.
 Giggling at the shenanigans, I slid down to the driveway. As soon as my feet hit the gravel, I felt someone accessing me. I found a woman standing in the door left open by the rambunctious boys. She was perhaps in her late thirties, rather pudgy, black-haired with onyx eyes the same shape and intensity as Jonah`s. She also had her brother`s wide nose. I shook off the last drops of melted snow from the battle royal at the lodge and walked towards her, hoping the tingle of fear her unwavering dark eyes instilled in me didn`t show.

Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey


Click on the link below to return to the Tuesday Tales main blog for more great reads from the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.

See you next week!

Sunday, February 22, 2015

My Goofy Gaggle

Over the course of the past twelve years, many people, my hubby included, have wondered why I have geese. Geese are loud, pushy, and tend to pinch people on occasion. They muscle the ducks out of the food and the water dish. In general, geese can be real stinkers.

However, for all the bad things that geese can be, they can certainly be lovely additions to the farmyard. They are faithful to their mates, make wonderful parents, are protective of the property they call home, and can be gentle when raised properly. The trick to raising geese, for me, has been to make sure that goslings do not bond to me during the first few days after hatching.

 I've found that once geese are bonded to you they consider you part of the gaggle and that is when the trouble starts. Things are all fine and fuzzy when they`re goslings. They follow you around just as they would their parents and by gosh it`s cute! Fast forward to the following year, when the ganders start to feel funny stirrings and you`re viewed as an unwanted trespasser/goose who is getting far too close to their chosen ladylove. A flogging may be in your near future.

Geese are not for everyone. If you have neighbors who dislike noise, don`t get geese. If you`re intimidated by large birds that can get pushy on occasion, don`t get geese. But if you enjoy birds with tons of personality, you just might enjoy having your own goofy gaggle. 

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Throwback Thursday Tune

Oh yeah, this one was trouble! Sexy as heck and with talent to burn. Which of Jerry Lee`s songs is your favorite?