Monday, September 30, 2013

Tuesday Tales - Hard, Rough, Dirty

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be starting a new paranormal romance written exclusively for Tuesday Tales. It`s been awhile since we touched bases with Maggie Owens and Gerard Williams, our sexy team of otherworldly investigators for the KBNY show Paranormal Private Investigators.

Maggie, who is 34 and divorced, and Gerard, who is 26 and single, are participating in a sinfully seductive flirtation that is about to turn into a scorching hot affair. When last we left our duo they had wrapped up the case of The Foggy Creek Hellhound, discovering it was a hoax. Hoping to grab some time alone in the B&B the station paid for, Maggie and Gerard are doing what lovers do: “Watching movies” while TCM plays somewhere in the room.

This week we were challenged to use three words - hard, rough, and dirty in our post. Since this hasn`t been edited by anyone but me, there may be some grammatical errors. I do apologize for any boo-boo you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!

Anastasia`s Locket

Chapter One


“Tell me, who was it you left me for? Was it Lazlo, or were there others in between? Or . . . aren`t you the kind that tells?”

I could hear Bogart. Barely.

My ears were filled with the sweet sounds of a man feasting on my neck and shoulder. My face was covered with dreads, my hands filled with bulging and contracting biceps. Is there anything hotter than gripping a mans thick upper arms as he samples your flesh? Shifting my leg, my knee nudged a delicate area between my cameraman`s legs. He grunted as he nipped along the swell of breast about to tumble free from my bra. Wrapping my fingers in the ebony ropes of hair, I pulled Gerard`s mouth back to mine.

His lips were full and delicately tinted with the chocolate we had dipped plump strawberries in earlier. His desire was pressed against my stomach. All manner of hard, dirty, rough, and oh-so adult thoughts spiraled around in my head as I gyrated underneath him. The room was lit only by the TV. We broke for a mutual intake of badly needed air, my fingers dancing lightly from his arms to his corded neck, anxious for him to plunder my mouth again.

“You need to give me a minute here to situate,” Gerard huffed, sliding his bulk to the side. I stayed glued to him, my breasts to his bare chest, my legs wound through his. The man did a fine scoot-and-lift, placing me atop his fantastically made body. Three cheers for ex-Pitt football players! Rah-Rah-Rah!

Sitting back, I eyed him openly. He waggled a brow, his teeth flashing pearly white in the flickering light. Lordy but he was splendid. Tall, ripped, handsome, sexy, funny, young, smart . . . did I mention sexy? It had to be the dreads. Or perhaps his smile. Or the way his stomach quivered when I ran my fingers around the rim of his navel. Or the way he looked at me as if I were the sexiest woman on earth.

“You are a beautiful man.” I bent down to tease his mouth with mine. His hand came up to light on the back of my neck. His body hummed like a perfectly tuned engine.

“Men aren`t beautiful, Maggie,” he said, running his hand down my arm then back up to my neck. “Now you on the other hand . . .”

“Please tell me you have protection,” I said, placing a pale hand on his dark chest. He nodded, tugged my mouth over his, and then showed me with a kiss just how beautiful he thought I was. There was nothing in the world that was going to get in the way of this happening. We had both turned off our phones so Eddie Delong, our producer, couldn`t ring us steadily to chew us out for the crap segment we had sent him. Gerard and I had but this one stolen evening, and by all the gods that look down on horny divorced women I was getting laid! He cupped a breast. I wiggled on my wondrously arousing seat, pulling a deep thunderous moan from Gerard.

Then some moron began pounding on the door. I flew off the sofa like some incensed and slightly insane Vulcan caught in the grip of Pon Farr. Gerard mumbled something. I ripped the door open, ready to lay into room service for disrupting us when the damned ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign was clearly visible. I came up short when faced not with a maid wanting to clean, but a short woman in her early sixties with round eyes. I glanced down, turned the color of a pickled beet, and quickly began buttoning my unbuttoned blouse.

“Are you the ghost chasers?” she asked with a thick Maine accent. I felt Gerard stepping up behind me, his body churning out heat like a forest fire as he slid an arm around my waist.

“Yes, we are, but we`re trying to grab a few hours of sleep and . . .”

“I have a ghost problem. It`s my daughter, Anastasia,” she whispered, pulling the handmade sweater she wore tighter to her lean frame. Her face was tight with fear. “She won`t leave,” she added, shooting glances down the nicely decorated corridor.

I looked over my shoulder at Gerard. He met my questioning glance with a slow nod.

“Show her in, Mags,” he said before dropping a consolatory kiss to my shoulder then backing away to turn on the lights for our guest.

“Why don`t you come in and tell us about this problem with Anastasia?” I smiled then closed the door on our stolen night.

Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey


Thanks for stopping in to visit! For more free reads by great authors follow the link back to the Tuesday Tales main blog.

See you next week!

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Dear Jon - Chapter # 9

The next chapter in my M/M historical romance Dear Jon is up over at Storytime Trysts.

I hope you enjoy this romantic trip back in time.

Storytime Trysts

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Chris T. Kat Is Here!

Please help me to welcome the talented and lovely author Chris T. Kat! Take it away, Chris!

A Day in the Writing Life of Chris T. Kat
Vickie, thank you very much for having me on your blog! Torquere Press published my new release Hunter's Hunt on September 18th.
Many writers write in the evening or stay up late into the night. I admire these writers! But... I just can't write in the evenings. Maybe it's because I'm too tired from working my day job, taking care of the kids and all the usual stuff or because I'm more of an early bird than a night owl, I don't know.
Mostly I write on the weekends or whenever I have a day off. How much I write varies and depends on when I could start or how often my family needs something from me during my writing time.
So, let's see how a usual Saturday works for me:
Between 7 and 7:30 I force myself out of my cozy bed and trudge down the stairs to check my glucose level, then make breakfast. My son will probably keep me company and tell me whatever floats through his little head (and that's a lot!) while he shadows me on each step and I'll try not to trip over him. Then it's feeding time for our two guinea pigs, Sam and Sky.

8 to 9: Breakfast with my family. My daughter will, as usual, show up at the last minute, throw herself against me and tell us how tired she still is. After a lot of chatting, I'll take a shower.

At around 9am I sit down at my laptop and write till around noon. Around 9.15 the guineas will probably squeak really loud because I forgot to bring them their tomatoes... What can I say; they get testy when I forget their favorite breakfast!

While I write the kids will come and go, tell me what they're playing, what they intend to do for the rest of the day, and ask me how long it'll take me to finish my book. My son will remind me that I still haven't finished the cross stitch picture I promised him and my daughter will push her brush into my hand with firm words not to pull so much again. I always tell her she could brush her hair herself but it never works. After braiding my daughter's hair, they'll usually leave me alone for a while. At least until they get hungry...

Hmm, I wonder how I ever get anything written at all!

Around noon the kids will tug at my shirt and ask when lunch will be ready. Sometimes it's my husband who wants to know if he should start setting the table (which is his polite cue of when was I going to make lunch?).

Some time between 12 and 2pm I've cooked, we ate, the dishes are done and I'm ready to collapse. If we don't have anything special planned, I'll write e-mails or guest posts or appear on Twitter for an hour.
Depending on the weather you'll find me either in the living room, chatting with my husband, doing some cross-stitch or reading. Sometimes I'll mow the lawn, which is so much easier now that I got a bigger one. :) Especially in the winter months the kids often decide it's time to apply make up to my face, get my hair brushed and transform me into a queen and they'll serve me. Hey, at least I get to be queen occasionally!
Between 6 and 7pm we have dinner and then begins the long and laborious task of convincing the kids to make themselves ready for bed...

Around 8pm my husband and I have finally some time for us, which we will spend—Hah! Did you think I'd tell you? ;-)

Buy links:

Wanted: one bear. Must be burly and hairy, and strong enough to paddle. Hunter Bell is on the prowl, and he knows just where to find his prey: at the Bear Trap, a gay leather bar he’s more than a little familiar with. So many men, so little time. He’s just about to pounce on his choice of the evening when a newcomer enters the bar, turning everyone’s head. Adrian Michaels is everything Hunter despises in a man. He’s lean and boyish looking, and he has the deepest dimples Hunter’s ever seen.
And yet there is an immediate attraction, one that neither man can deny. They’re both too astonished to do anything about this apparent interest in one another, and they waste their opportunity. Now it’s up to Hunter to forget about his stereotypical preference and go for the guy that’s just entered his dreams. If only he can admit to himself that Adrian’s what he really wants...

It took a moment for the newcomer to absorb his surroundings and, when he did, he flinched. A few men chuckled upon discovering the baffled look on the guy's face, which proved that he indeed hadn't known about the nature of the Bear's Trap. Hunter watched him shift from one foot to the other while most men turned back and resumed their conversations. The new guy remained rooted to the spot, dripping water all over the floor, before he squared his shoulders and pushed through the mass of bodies. At last he reached the bar, where Hunter was still standing, for some unknown reason interested in this guy.

The newcomer waved at the bartender. "Is there a phone anywhere?"

"You don't have a cell phone?" another guy asked, perplexed.

The newcomer shot him a 'drop-dead' look, startling Hunter into a laugh. The new guy turned toward him with a quizzical look. Hunter was face-to-face with an irritated man, whose dark blue eyes were blazing.

"Bad day?" Hunter heard himself ask.


Hunter pulled his cell phone from his pocket and held it out to him. "You might better go to the back. Otherwise, you won't be able to understand anything."

Baffled, the other man took the phone. "Thank you, uh, what's your name?"

"Hunter." He held out his hand for the other man to shake.

"Last name or first name?"


"Thanks, Hunter. I'm Adrian."

"Hey, Adrian."

Adrian gestured with the phone toward the end of the bar and raised one delicate eyebrow. "This way?"

Hunter nodded and beckoned Adrian to go past him. Adrian only made it a few feet before one of the other men groped him, drawing out a surprised yelp from Adrian. He shoved the guy aside then proceeded farther into the back. On his way, he struggled with advances from more guys than Hunter could count. At some point, Adrian whirled around and, even from that distance Hunter could see the fast heaving of his chest, the free hand balled into a fist, and the stressed look on his face.

With a sigh, Hunter pushed away from the bar and strolled after Adrian. He caught up with him right when another man, a regular customer called Dean, made a pass at him.

"Hey, knock it off. He's with me, Dean."

"With you? Since when are you going for his type, Hunter?" Dean asked with a sneer.

Hunter shrugged while he sent a dark glower toward Dean, which caused the other man to drop his eyes and inspect the contents of his glass thoroughly. Hunter laid a hand on Adrian's shoulder and pushed him ahead. Adrian cast him a worried look but walked where Hunter steered him. After opening a door to a private room at the end, he ushered Adrian through and switched on the light.

"Go ahead."

Adrian clutched the cell phone in his hands, staring at Hunter with an apprehensive look. Hunter noticed that Adrian's eyes were of a dark, almost navy, blue. He swallowed. Even behind the glasses, Adrian's eyes seemed large and expressive. He had to concentrate on listening to Adrian's question. "Is this... is this some kind of leather bar?"

"Yeah. Never been in one before, have you?" Hunter asked.

"No. No offense and all, but I'm not very fond of it."



"Need a bodyguard?"

Adrian eyed him before he obviously came to some kind of decision. "You free for bodyguard duty for maybe an hour?"

"Sure." Hunter grinned. "I won't even try to molest you."

Chris T. Kat
Chris T. Kat lives in the middle of Europe, where she shares a house with her husband of many years and their two children. She stumbled upon the M/M genre by luck and was swiftly drawn into it. She divides her time between work, her family—which includes chasing after escaping horses and lugging around huge instruments such as a harp—and writing. She enjoys a variety of genres, such as mystery/suspense, paranormal, and romance. If there's any spare time, she happily reads for hours, listens to audiobooks or does cross stitch.


Monday, September 23, 2013

Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing an excerpt from my new adult WIP (Work In Progress) Love of the Hunter, an M/M mythological romance. This week we`re writing to a picture prompt and the snippet must not be longer than 300 words. Since this is a rough draft there may be some mistakes. I do apologize for any boo-boo you may find.

In today`s excerpt – A tender moment between lovers.

Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!

As greatly as it saddens me, I do not allow my sister’s displeasure with my carnal tastes to dissuade me or make me leave Orion. I will never leave him. Each day we spend together, I love him more deeply. It takes his eyes three full moons to heal completely.

This day we have done well. Orion’s game bag is full. We now linger by a small trickling stream, having loved each other well amid tumbling leaves of crimson, orange, and safflower. His lips on my sweaty bicep make me roll my head to stare into eyes greener than any emerald.

“Will we ever tire of each other?” he asks, lying on his side to face me. I reach out to sweep a chestnut colored ringlet from his eye. Gazing at him makes me feel all-powerful and terribly weak simultaneously.

“Nay,” I say, running my fingertips around the edge of his ear, “We shall never tire of each other. We shall live and love each other until the stars fall from the sky.”

“You will see the stars falling, my love. I will not,” he reminds me, streams of dappled sunlight moving over his muscular chest and arms.

“Then we shall live and love each other until you pass from this realm. I will write sonnets about your beauty. Our love shall be remembered until the sun burns out.”

“Ah, you are truly the golden one. Even your tongue is gilded,” Orion teases. I laugh gently at his taunt, my head resting on my bent arm. I would lay here admiring him until we both were naught but dust.

Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey


As much as I hate to leave things dangling, I must. Apollo and Orion`s book is coming out in two months, and I simply cannot reveal anything more. I do hope that those of you who have been enjoying the excerpt`s will grab a copy of Love of the Hunter when it releases on November 13th. Out of all my mythological romances to date, Apollo and Orion`s may just be my favorite. I am so glad it found a home with Torquere Press.

Next week I`ll have something spiffy and shiny for you! It will be a new ghostly tale, just right for the upcoming season of Halloween, with the stars of The Foggy Creek Hellhound back for another spooky, sexy romp! Yep, Maggie Owens and Gerard Williams – my favorite paranormal investigators - are back to try to crack the case of Anastasia`s Locket, exclusively for Tuesday Tales!

Make sure you stop in to visit all the other great writers at

See you next week!

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Dear Jon - Chapter # 8

The next chapter in my M/M historical romance Dear Jon is up over at Storytime Trysts.

I hope you enjoy this romantic trip back in time.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Tony-Paul de Vissage Pays A Visit!

You’ve come a long way, baby!

First, he was ruthless, “mad, bad, and dangerous to know,” walking the corridors of centuries and loving every minute of it…

Then the “penitent vampire” raised his handsome head. Suddenly immortality is no longer a blessing. He broadcasts his angst, lamenting his ability to live forever, hating the fact that he’s forced to kill others to continue his own survival, while he searches the world for someone brave enough to accompany him on his Undead travels.

After that, he became sensitive, hiding his immortality, getting a night job, making human friends, actually coming to their rescue when needed and protecting them from his fellow Undead, the so-called “predators”…

and now, he sparkles

Quite frankly, the only time a vampire should sparkle is just before he bursts into flame, and with that statement, I say, Bring back the Old Time vamps!

And I’m going to try, if I have to do it singlehandedly. With a little individual tweaking here and there, they stick to the rules set down long ago by Bram Stoker:

avoid sunlight,
no garlic allowed,
easy on the crosses and holy water,
keep plenty of native soil around,
bring on the virgins!

Christopher Landless is my latest Undead creation and he follows the lead set by Damien laCroix, Vlad Chemare, the Andriescus, and Karel Novotny. Oh, Kit has a bit more conscience than his nosferatu brethren. He still remembers what it was to be human, but when it gets right down to the nitty and the gritty, he fights to save those like himself and not humans. In spite of that, I believe I’ve still managed to make him  someone the readers will like.

Kit’s story stretches from 1794 to the year 2580. For a while, Man and Vampire managed to live side-by-side peacefully, then a terrible event occurs making humans decide vampires are too dangerous to be allowed to go free. They’re imprisoned in concentration camps, on islands surrounded by moats of blessed water.

It was a challenge to fall back on the expected way of containing and fighting vampires while transforming them into futuristic forms. Staying true to the original genre while updating it to near-science fiction f was a definite test of originality and writing skills.  I hope, I believe, I managed it adequately.

Death in the Blood Book Trailer



…Mankind admitted vampires exist?

…Vampires followed Man into the stars, inhabiting every planet in the galaxy?

…They solved the “Vampire Problem” by putting the Undead in concentrations camps?

What would happen if someone decided to destroy off the imprisoned nosferatu?

Would the police investigate?

Should they?

Forced to assist Lieutenant Katherine Dalia in the case, vampire Christopher Landless fights desire and thirst to uncover a motive of long-lingering revenge as both vampire and mortal
discover old crimes never go unpunished.


When the woman appeared in the fog-closed street, he was more than ready to pounce.

            She wasn’t scurrying furtively with a clutching of shawl or threadbare cloak as he would expect a trull to be doing, but strode purposefully on the cobbles. Head held high inside its deep hood, her heels were making a rhythmic staccato upon the stones as the hem of her cape sent the fog scattering in little swirls.

            No matter. Lady or whore, the gems glittering in her ears and glimpsed at the throat of the velvet cape would soon be his, and bring his creditors to heel. He simply waited until she walked past the alley where he was hiding, then reached out and pulled her backward into the shadows, one hand going over her mouth. He didn’t even draw his pistol.

This is too easy, was his thought. After all, he was nearly a foot taller than she, outweighed her by at least seven stone, and being a man, was much stronger. The wench don’t have a chance.

            As she started to struggle, he whispered, “Be still and you won’t be hurt. I just want your jewels.” That usually halted any resistance. Not in this case. Instead of subsiding, her movements increased.

            Her scream of rage swept all coherent thought from him.

            He never really saw her move, just felt the blow as her hand caught him under the chin. His teeth cracked against each other as he was rocked off his heels and sent flying against the wall. The pistol slung from his hand as his shoulders struck the bulding. Kit’s head collided with a protruding brick, sending a stream of bright flashes before his eyes. Then his body slid down the wall, landing in a huddle at its base.

            The slut struck me! He lay there in dazed disbelief. She…

            The alley seemed darker. Where did all the fog come from? It rolled in, boiling and billowing, but… ’Tis black, like dark clouds. He could barely see the woman. Shaking his head, he sought to clear his vision, eyes sensing movement within the fog.

            She was running toward him, but slowly, oh so slowly. It was as if Time itself were caught in some kind of dark whirlpool and sent waning. All movement became unnatural…no sound to her footfalls, pale arms raised above her head, hands clenched into fists. The cloak was tangled around them, flapping like...wings.

            Kit struggled to sit up, a coil of panic trapped in his guts. He fell back against the wall, all power fled from limbs gone numb. All he could do was lie there…waiting.

            She passed through a shadow...emerged changing...head thrown back, eyes glowing, mouth a scarlet rim of enraged snarl encircling gleaming white teeth... Sweet Jesus, protect my soul! He didn’t know if he cried the words or simply thought them and the wonder passed through his mind if the Blessed Savior would bother with a sinner such as he.

            Then the teeth were at his throat and the shadows closed in, blood-red and spreading and smothering his mind...

Death in the Blood will be available from Class Act Books in August, 2013. You can pick up your copy here:

Death in the Blood

Tony-Paul can be found at:

Twitter @tpvissage


Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Outserve Charity Blitz Anthology Release Day!

Today is release day for the Torquere Press Charity Sip Blitz! 

I was honored to have my short story, Every Sunday at One, chosen for this anthology to benefit Outserve SLDN. OS-SLDN is dedicated to bringing full LGBT equality to America's military and ending all forms of discrimination and harassment of military personnel on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity.

I hope you`ll join us by grabbing your copy of this year`s Charity Sip Blitz. All authors involved donate all royalties from the sale of this anthology with Torquere Press matching 100%. You can pick up your copy of Every Sunday at One, or the complete anthology, at the Torquere Press website. I know that all of you will do your part to help make this years Charity Sip Blitz a successful one!

Thank you all. ♥

Every Sunday at One

2013 Charity Sip Blitz Complete Package

Monday, September 16, 2013

Tuesday Tales - Glass

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing an excerpt from my new adult WIP (Work In Progress) Love of the Hunter, an M/M mythological romance.

In today`s excerpt-Apollo and Orion have become lovers. Several months have passed. Artemis returns to visit her brother and is thrilled to see that he is so happy.  Apollo takes his twin to meet the man that has captured his heart. Artemis acts strangely and then runs off when she sees the two young men kissing.

 This week our word prompt is ‘Glass’. Since this is a rough draft there may be some mistakes. I do apologize for any boo-boo you may find.

Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!

“Let me examine your eyes,” I instruct. He leans in to taste my lips. I hear my sister inhale sharply. I turn just as she bolts from the cave.

“Did I offend, Apollo? I wished to make her comfortable,” Orion says, his hands moving about blindly.

I slide from my knees to my ass, my fingers on his face but my sight on the cave opening. “Nay, my love, ’twas not you that offended,” I say, swiveling my attention from the hasty departure of my sister to my love. “She was just surprised. Let me see under your lids.” He opens his eyes. I lean closer and tip my head side to side. “Orion, I begin to see color!”

His face splits in a wide grin. He throws his arms round my neck. I squeeze him heartily then draw back to claim his mouth. The rasp of his tongue over mine, the smell of him, the feel of his body flush to mine makes my blood bubble like a pot on the fire. If not for Artemis I would take him now. I break the kiss, wishing I had a looking glass of polished bronze so my love could see how well he heals.

“Soon I shall join you in hunting!” he announces. I kiss the end of his nose.

“I hope to hunt with you and my sister daily,” I tell him. “I must go see where she went.”

“Aye, you should. She left so quickly. Tell her my heart beats true for her brother.” He pushes me from him.

I turn to walk to the flap, and then I stop to look back at him. “My heart beats true for you as well,” I announce then duck outside.

Kedalion points to the rise behind the cave. I thank him and begin climbing. I crest a knoll that looks down over a valley that the Okeanos cuts through like a serpent. She is not difficult to locate: A blond goddess in a grimy chiton with an apple wood bow nearly as tall as she is. I walk through grasses and flowers that tickle my bare thighs beneath my chiton. When I am beside her, I cross my arms over my chest just as she has and study the rumbling, riotous river below.

“Orion thinks he offended you,” I open with. She tenses even more. Her jaw is so tight I fear she may snap teeth. “Artemis, I am sorry for not being totally forthcoming with you. I wished to sit you down, feed you, and then explain who it was that had captured my heart.”

“You are so stupid!” she shouts, spinning sideways then pushing me back with two powerful shoves to my chest. I glower at her. “You shall never come home if you don’t stop this!”

“Stop what?” I demand to know, hands rolled into fists at my side.

She throws a hand in the direction of the cave. “Stop bedding men!”

“I cannot just stop!” I yell. “I do not wish to stop! I love him, Artemis! I thought you were pleased about the fact that I was happy once more!”

“I was!” she huffs, great grey clouds beginning to blow in over us. “I was happy because I thought you would come home to me! But you are still an ignorant, greedy swine! You know father will make you languish here forever, but you refuse to stop doing what he dislikes! Why do you not think of me, or of mother? How dare you fall in love with Orion? How dare you?” she bellows and slaps me.

The clouds open up. Rain comes down in torrents. Water coursing down my face, I watch my sister run off yet again. This time I have no plans to chase her down.

Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey


Thanks for stopping in to visit! For more free reads by great authors follow the link back to the Tuesday Tales main blog.

See you next week!

Outserve Charity Blog Hop & Free Book Giveaway Begins Tomorrow!

Our Bloghop Starts Here: Torquere Press

People are always asking authors “Where do you come up with your ideas?”

Sometimes the creative process is a random shot between the eyes with a two-by-four from your muse. Other times, a song, picture, word, or smell can send an active imagination into overdrive.  For this year`s Charity Sip Blitz, the inspiration was far less painful than timber to the skull. As soon as I saw the call for submissions for Torquere Press, I knew where my submission would take place. The title ‘Every Sunday at One’ also jumped out immediately.

For well over a year, my daughter and I have been volunteering at a local charity that packages goodies for our troops. My daughter, who is a high school senior this year, did her forty hours of community service for with this local charity. I have donated copies of my self-published books, and have helped with a wildly successful chicken & biscuit dinner to raise funds for this wonderful organization. We give our time as often as possible and encourage others to do the same. To find how you can help our troops, check online. This is just one site that has a wonderful list of volunteer opportunities.

I was honored to have my short story chosen for this anthology. It is my sincere hope that we here at Torquere Press can raise a substantial amount of money for Outserve SLDN. OS-SLDN is dedicated to bringing full LGBT equality to America's military and ending all forms of discrimination and harassment of military personnel on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity.  

 I hope you`ll join us by grabbing your copy of this year`s Charity Sip Blitz. All authors involved donate all royalties from the sale of this anthology with Torquere Press matching 100%. It`s a wonderful way to help a very worthy organization while getting some great reads.

Here`s a small excerpt from my story ‘Every Sunday at One’—


Okay, this was the day I was going to do it. I was going to get my balls out of my purse . . . uhm, wallet, and go over and talk to him. No more sitting around making moon eyes at him. No more dreaming of touching those high cheek bones and that pouty bottom lip. No more fantasizing about staring into his arboreal green eyes or running my palms over the neat, black, military hair. 

Yep. As soon as I got the razor to fit into the empty plastic peanut butter jar we used for shipping, I was going to be the man that my mother gave birth to and saunter over to PFC Andrew Fraser and shake his hand and thank him, yet again, for giving more than most could ever imagine.

I planned to do all of this just as soon as I could stop gawking like a 'tween. I glanced up from my jar with the tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Those emerald eyes were on me. A flash of pink ran up my cheeks and I quickly returned to my packing duty. 

Funny how I came to this little basement shop under Carol's Candles & Crafts to volunteer, helping to pack goodies for our men and women overseas. I hadn't thought much about their sacrifices until a cousin of mine enlisted right out of high school. That jarred me from my complacency in a hurry, let me tell you. Instead of spending Sunday afternoon lying on my couch watching football, I was now here, with ten other volunteers, wrapping up care packages for our troops.

Who knew that one of our little goodie boxes would reach the handsome Purple Heart recipient Andrew Fraser as he recuperated from a near-death encounter with an IED on some sandy stretch of desert? Not me. I hadn't even known the man, yet he had come from my hometown in northwest Pennsylvania. Different high schools, same graduating class, both of us were twenty-four but Andrew had served and lost a leg in those six years. 

What the hell had I done? I had gotten a job and beaten my buddies in several MMOs. Yeah, big stuff, huh? Well, at least I felt like I'd seen the light. Let it never be said that Carter Preston was incurably stupid. Painfully slow perhaps, but not incurably stupid. It only took me six years to see what Andrew had known in high school. The real heroes are those who give all they have to give, not the ones you find in a video game.


Anyone who comments and leaves their contact information will be entered in a drawing to win a free PDF copy of any of my Torquere Press books! On Sunday, September 22 at 8 PM Eastern, I`ll enter all the names into the mystical and always magical Random Thing Picker. Readers can choose from the following-

He Loves Me For My Brainssss

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

Goaltender`s Penalty

Every Sunday at One

Thanks for stopping by, and if you wish to enter the giveaway, please don`t forget to leave your contact information. 

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Dear Jon - Chapter # 7

The next chapter in my M/M historical romance Dear Jon is up over at Storytime Trysts.

I hope you enjoy this romantic trip back in time.

Storytime Trysts

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Catching My Breath

Holy cow, it`s been a little while since I had a moment to sit back, grab a cuppa and touch bases with you! Since Tuesday Tales is taking a hiatus this week, I thought I`d take a break and catch you guys and gals up.

So, how is everything? *Pours a mug full for visitors*

Things here have been just this side of hectic. Which I think puts affairs smack-dab into the middle of close to insanity. I am not about to complain, either, as most of the chaos is a good kind of chaos, if you know what I mean.

First off, we recently became cow owners again. Meet Mooka Rask, who is a huge fan of the Boston Mooins. 

(Hats off to Miss Yodeling for the Mooin`s witty) I take full responsibility for Mooka`s name, so if Tuukka has any issues, he can take it up with me. Yeah, I sound tough, but if the goalie for the Bruins showed up on my doorstep I`d be all sorts of apologetic.

Me-“But Mr. Rask, it was meant as a compliment. Please don`t use me for a puck!”

I bet he wouldn`t buy it. Neither did Mister who insists on calling Mooka Henrik.  Ah, the joy of fans for differing teams living in the same house.

In other less bovine news, Miss Yodeling is now a senior. How this happened I do not know but it has. We`re now starting to fill out college applications, visiting campuses, and trying to negotiate scholarship forms. This is a fun learning experience. Neither I nor her father has attended college, so this is a whole new world for us.

The goats are biding their time until the middle of October. Perseus is not happy about this, and thinks that serenading the girls all night will earn him a gold star. It is not. All it is doing is making the people inside the house say bad things about Perseus and his love songs. Also, I think he dislikes his cow roomie, but hey, if I had to pick who smelled worse . . .

The writing world is superbly super. Never, and I mean never, would I have thought my new career as an author would be this busy. There are times when I sit back, look at what I`ve accomplished in a couple years and smile. Then there are times – generally when I`m facing two rounds of edits on two different books due within a few days of each other – that I wonder what was wrong with my head. Once the edits and proofs are done I`m off on another fictional journey, so obviously I enjoy the madness.

September and October are going to be energetic months for yours truly. I`ll have three projects coming to fruition in two months.

On 9/18 my short story, Every Sunday at One, will be included in the Charity Sip Blitz anthology.

In October my new adult mythological romance Love of the Hunter is scheduled to release. I don`t have a definite date yet, but will add it above the cover image along the right as soon as I do.

On 10/30 my M/M shifter story An Erie Halloween releases! This is a delightful little tale about a magical world filled with shifters of all breeds that I think fans of the genre will enjoy. Perhaps I can even lure non-shifter fans into this delightfully mystical and romantic novella.

I could not be happier with how things are going, even if my vision gets a bit blurred and my fingers knot up on occasion. There is nothing I love more than being able to share love and laughter with people.

I remember hearing that ‘Life Begins at 50’ somewhere. It surely did, at least for this goatherder.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Jean Joachim`s Blog Tour Stops Here!

I am so excited to have the lovely lady that runs Tuesday Tales stopping in as part of her blog tour! As you all know, Jean is a very prolific and talented writer with a heart of gold. This lady is always ready to help, cheer on, and nudge her fellow writers to embrace their dreams. As you can tell, I`m deeply honored to be able to call Jean a friend.

Jean`s stopping by to chat about her Hollywood Hearts books, as well as share some excerpts and give away a free digital copy of one of her books at each blog she stops at. If you follow the tour, your chances of winning increase!

Every person who leaves a comment for Jean will have their names entered. At the end of the day, I`ll put all the names into the wonderful and always superb Random Thing Picker, and just like that, a winner will be chosen! Please make sure to include your email address in your comment, or else we won`t know how to contact you about your winning status!

Please do visit and like Jean`s Facebook page if you haven`t done so already:

Jean Joachim, Author

Does love always mean total truth? Successfully shunning the limelight was one way for Megan Davis to keep her family secret. The press intruded on her life when her twin brother, Mark, became the star quarterback for the Delaware Demons. Disrespectful of tabloid superstars, financial advisor, Meg, was shocked when she was tapped to launch a celebrity division in the prestigious investment firm, Dillon & Weed. The biggest surprise: the charisma of her first client.

Gorgeous, magnetic movie star, Chaz Duncan, wary of women who wanted to bask in his fame or sell his secrets to the media, valued privacy above all else. Would attractive Megan Davis, his new financial advisor charm the truth from him or would he continue his high profile but lonely existence to keep his secret safe? Jealousy, deceit and scandal threaten two careers and the quest for true love and trust in this roller-coaster-ride contemporary romance

How about a few excerpts?

“This is going to take all night if you keep interrupting…” Her brows knitted.
Focus. Stop drooling. Remember, he puts his pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else. Stop thinking about his pants!
 “All night? Is that part of the service Dillon and Weed provides?” He cocked an eyebrow while attempting, unsuccessfully, to stifle a smile.
Megan couldn’t suppress a laugh as the heat crept from her neck to her cheeks.
“I love making you blush…so pretty.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
Her blush deepened. “Can I continue…please?” Focus, Meg! Oh, touch me again…shut up, Meg!


6   “You mean, did I choose you because of your brains or your…other assets? Brains. I like your other assets. I find them also…impressive. But when it comes to money management, I have to go with the best brains, who will work the hardest. You, hands down.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
He gave her a brief nod. Megan threw her arms around his neck and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, then shrank back in horror at her action. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I apologize…I shouldn’t have done that…it’s…this means so much to me, to the firm, to my career…” She reached up with her napkin to wipe the small lipstick smear off his cheek, but he grabbed her wrist.
“Let’s do it right,” he whispered as he drew her into his arms. He lowered his lips, moving them over hers slowly while she melted. He coaxed her mouth open to receive his tongue. Wooed by his charm, her resistance vanished. When he drew back, she was breathless.


Time to meet the author!

I didn't start writing until about 17 years ago. I had two small children and used to get up at 5:30am to write for two hours before they got up.
No one believed I could be a writer...least of all me...but I was driven to do it anyway. Like an addict I was compelled to write.

I started out writing 500 word articles on advertising, business and parenting, based on my own experience. Lo and behold, after my first article failed, everything else I wrote got published.

This was exciting and encouraged me to attempt my first book, "Beyond the Bake Sale, the Ultimate School Fund-Raising Book."

I got an agent from a friend of mine and she found a top publisher, St. Martin's Press, with a fabulous editor, Elizabeth Beier and I was off.

After six more non-fiction books were published, I tried my hand at fiction. One cold day last January, while I was recuperating from loss and illness, Callie and Mac landed in my head and told me their story. I flew to my computer to get it all down, just the way they were telling me.

"Now and Forever, a Love Story" was born. The characters have no resemblance to anyone I know and, least of all, to me. They are completely formed total strangers that leaped out of my head and onto the page.

It was a wonderful experience, listening to their story. I fell in love with them. After the book was done, I couldn't let them go. They were kind enough to bring another character to the forefront, Danny Maine who told me his story and "Now and Forever 2, the Book of Danny" was born.

After that I became a writing machine, writing seven days a week as many as seven hours a day. I finished "Now and Forever 3, Blind Love", the first two books in the Moonlight Series: "Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights" and "April's Kiss in the Moonlight". And the first two books in The List series: "The Marriage List" and "The Love List". I am finishing up the last books in these current series and will begin a new series in 2013, "Hollywood Hearts".

I hope you will keep reading as I intend to keep writing until the stories run out, which doesn't appear to be soon! Thank you for buying and reading my books.

Best wishes,

 Contact the Author:

Twitter is @Jeanjoachim

You can follow Jean`s blog tour, and improve your chances of winning, by stopping into the blogs listed below. Good luck!