Monday, July 29, 2013

Tuesday Tales - Bargain

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 we see exactly how the eternally youthful god, Apollo, has been forced to live, and the abuse he suffers at the hands of a bitterly defeated Titan.

This week our word prompt is ‘Bargain’. 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!




I study the path that leads to the temple as I walk. It is lined with ground shells. Or perhaps it is the many bones of those who have tried, and failed, to enter this shrine at the eastern end of the earth. Helios does not take kindly to visitors. If not for his fear of Zeus and his powers, I would have been incinerated just as the hapless humans seeking to own the sun were. I find a rounded chunk of calcium and kick it ahead of me, my chiton drying as is my hair. The hot winds feel good. They whip around the home of the Titan, lifting my yellow curls playfully. One zephyr, Eurus, the eastern wind, tries to tug my chiton from my shoulder. I spin around, scuffing up clouds of dust in an attempt to wrest my robe from the wind god and his spirits.

“Release my robes at once, foolish sprite!” I yell, tugging violently to free the sky blue garment. The laughing winds of the east race off, my chiton bouncing merrily from one gust to another high above my head. I run back down the path, my bow and quiver slapping my backside. I curse the winds as they race further ahead. Even Apollo cannot catch the wind. I pause in the chase when I hear the first rumbling sounds of the sun chariot. I quickly turn and dash up the hill. I must not be late to take the reins of the steeds or I shall feel Helios` whip. One does not bargain with a Titan. I push my body. Olympian blood courses through me, fueling my muscles and heart with heavenly golden ichor.

The chariot races overhead. The light is so bright my eyes water. I cannot see clearly and run into a marble column. Down to my naked ass I go. I scrabble to my feet, pushing my weaponry back onto my shoulder. I dare not be late. The stables are many hectares away. I run as fast as I can my arms and legs pumping, still I know I will not arrive on time. I can feel the horses touch down on the earth. The ground trembles. My feet blur as I run onward, hoping now to only receive one lash with the fiery whip.

I skid around the side of the stable. The whip flies out, snaking around my right ankle. Helios jerks upon the flaming lash. My leg is wrenched out from underneath me. I land on my side. The Titan pulls me to him. I writhe and scream for mercy but I know there will be none. The four horses stamp the ground, their flaming hooves singeing the grass. I throw my arms over my face. Helios steps from the chariot, a glowing ball of fire that can turn even me to ash with a flick of his finger. He pulls me away from the horses, the whip burning through my skin, tears flowing down my cheeks.

“Shall I call you the weeping god, son of Leto?” Helios taunts, dragging me like a ragged doll across the yard. I roll from one side to the other, trying to free myself. “Crying like a mortal girl child,” the Titan thunders down at me then with a jerk of his wrist the whip tears free. Flesh rips and smolders and I scream in agony. I beg for his forgiveness. He reaches down. I curl into a ball. “You fill me with shame,” he sneers in my face. I flop to my stomach. The whip lands across my lower back. The biting fingers instantly sear through my skin. I kick and twitch. I bite through my lower lip until thick golden blood fills my mouth. I do not cry out. That seems to please the Titan for no other lashing do I receive.

“Your father,” he spits out the word with distaste, “bid you sent here to me to learn my ways and stop your feminine mewling over a lost boy love.  He has given me freedom to make a god out of you, and so help me Apollo I shall do as bid by him. Now attend to my steeds.”

I sit up, sniffling quietly. The Titan stalks across the grass, his lash leaving a burnt snaking mark on the withered lawn. My ankle throbs terribly as does my back. They would heal. When next it was time for Helios to ride across the sky all that would remain of his cruelty would be a faint pink scar. That is his pleasure. He knows that he cannot kill me lest he incurs the wrath of Zeus, but he can whip me to mold me. That Zeus does not object to.

My father is worried. I know it and my sister knows it. Even my mother has whispered warnings to me when she visits, which is not often for she fears the Titan sun god. They do not understand how I could have loved another male so deeply when such things are to be cast aside once a man is a man, or so they believe in the learned city of Athens. So they turn a blind eye to the violence that Helios directs at me. Secretly, I feel they hope he can beat me into being the god they wish me to be.

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, July 27, 2013

Wind in White Birch - Issue # 30



Today, over on Storytime Trysts, you`ll find the final issue of Wind in White Birch.

I have greatly enjoyed sharing the romance of Jonah and Dana with you, and I hope to return to White Birch lodge in the future.

Starting next week, I`ll be sharing a new free romance read. This time we`ll be stepping back in time for a M/M historical romance. I hope you enjoy Dear Jon when it launches next Saturday exclusively at Storytime Trysts.

Storytime Trysts


Thursday, July 25, 2013

Hockey? What`s Up With That?

My sister-in-law recently asked me this as we were returning from a family wedding. So, I`ll try to explain how not only a love of the game, but an entire sports romance series was born!




For many years, we were not a sporting family. Mister Yodeling wasn`t into any kind of professional sports, nor was Miss. I grew up with a rabid Pittsburgh Steelers fan, so sports was part of my DNA, I suppose. You didn`t dare speak ill of Terry Bradshaw lest the wrath of the gods descended upon you and your firstborn child. No kidding, I think my mother hexed those who did not cheer the Steelers.

So, while I grew up watching sports, it was generally because someone else was the fan. When I married Mister, he didn`t do sports, and so it slid into the background of my life. I raised my daughter, fell in love with writing, did the goatherder thang, and enjoyed things as they were. Then a call for submissions from my publisher caught my eye. It was for an anthology about sports. It intrigued me to say the least.

A couple weeks later, I was having lunch with two local authors and dear friends, when one of them mentioned something about a fight among some hockey players that rumbled out into the parking lot after the game. Viola! Just like that the idea for Goaltender`s Penalty leaped into my head.

Now, though, I had to not only write the story, but I also had to begin watching hockey to familiarize myself with the game. I did find a willing hockey guru who reads all my ice hockey work before it even goes to the editor to help catch errors that a novice like me might make. (Thank you, Lola, for that and so much more.)

So, with the storyline for this M/M sports romance perking along, I sat down one night, poked around, and found a hockey game on. Calling it research - which it was at the time - Mister didn`t give me too much grief and sat down to watch.

A rather fascinating thing began to happen. We both started to enjoy the game more than we thought we would. As the M/M hockey story began to take shape, I began to watch more and more hockey. Mister as well found himself glued to the screen, as well as Miss! Within a few weeks, the whole family had fallen in love with the NHL! 



While we might cheer different teams – Miss and I love the New York Rangers and Mister cheers the Boston Bruins – we gather every time there is a game on, as a family, to shout encouragement to our teams.

So, I got Goaltender`s Penalty done and submitted it for the anthology. The end of regulation hockey was winding down. I still wanted to write more romance with hockey players though. So, taking off like a slap shot streaking down the ice, came the birth of my To Love a Wildcat sports romance series. I am so proud of these M/F hockey romances!

Each book centers on a leading lady who is not the typical cookie-cutter romance heroine-

In Pink Pucks & Power Plays we meet Viviana Land, a curvy and proud of it reporter, and Alain Lessard, star defenseman for the `Cats.

A Most Unlikely Countess tells the Cinderella story of Liz Argon, a slim young woman hiding behind the darkness of a Goth exterior whose sweet nature captures the heart of ‘The Count of the Crease’.

The star of O Captain! My Captain! is Maggie Charles, a forty something mother of a troublesome teen that finds love with Derrick Andersson, the aging Wildcats captain.

The fourth novel, which is as of yet untitled, will give us a romance between the Wildcats owner, Isabelle Lancourt, and the team coach, Philip Moore, both of whom are in their fifties.

And the fifth book`s details are being worked out, but the leading lady will be the hearing impaired daughter of the `Cats owner. 

It is entirely possible that a sixth book may be written! There are a lot of players on a hockey team after all. I submitted Pink Pucks to a publisher a few weeks ago, so now the waiting game begins. But don`t fear, if they pass on publishing it, I will simply self-publish the series.


I`m tickled pink that my first hockey story Goaltender`s Penalty has been chosen to be part of the Scoring anthology, being released by Torquere Press on 8/28/13. It will also be available as a standalone novella which is quite exciting as well!



So, now we know where, how, and why the love of hockey began. I`ve dished some good gossip on how my M/M and M/F sport romances came into being. Now we just have to figure out how to time travel to October so I can watch my Rangers hitting the ice with Hank in goal!


Anyone have a bead on where I can find a flux capacitor on sale cheap?


Monday, July 22, 2013

Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing an excerpt from my 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 Apollo has spared the life of a stag as he returns to the castle of Helios. The stag bounds into a nearby river and is sucked downstream. The god takes umbrage at the river trying to take a life he had spared, so he tries to save the stag.

 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!



When my lungs are close to bursting I push off a boulder. I`m propelled from the whirlpool, the stag bouncing off rock in my wake.  My head clears the water. I am momentarily blinded by a sodden mass of golden hair that I throw from my eyes. The river spins me in circles. I am breathing harshly. With one arm I begin to fight my way to the river bank. It takes a very long time. I am exhausted when I stumble from the waterway.

I drop the beast. My breathing is already calming as I place my bow to the ground. My quiver is empty, all the golden arrows washed away. They will float for many passes of Helios. I will get more. Father will command Hephaestus to fill my quiver as I sleep.

I peel my sodden chiton from my body. My skin prickles as the winds roar down from the golden palace. The stag lies behind me. I kneel beside the animal. My hands move over the wet fur. The heat of the sun warms my hands. My lids flutter. Heat resonates within me. With a shuddering gasp the stag leaps up and blinks wide brown eyes. I cross my arms over my hairless chest.

“Go,” I tell the stag.

The sound of my voice startles the deer into motion. He breaks away, jumping and bounding up the side of the mountain. I glance down at my hands. They are still illuminated. I am pleased with this gift of healing. Sadly, I cannot snatch a human from the cold grip of death. They are past the skills of the healer. Their psyche then belongs to Hades, and into his realm even I cannot travel. The ride across the Acheron in the ferryman`s boat is one forbidden to me.



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, July 20, 2013

Wind in White Birch - Issue # 29







It`s time once again for another issue in my free contemporary romance Wind in White Birch. 

I hope you`re enjoying reading this romance as much as I`m enjoying writing it for you.


Storytime Trysts

Thursday, July 18, 2013

I Am a Rocking Hobbit!

Oh yes I am!

You all know there are a few things that get me all sorts of excited. Any new Marvel movie, a New York Rangers game (if the Rangers win that makes it even better), a package of comics fresh from the comic shop, a new book, Daryl Dixon, writing, my hubby, and of course, rock music. I`ve been a rock fan since way, way back in the day and have been lucky enough to see quite a few great bands.

Tuesday night we three goatherders plus one (Miss Yodeling`s boyfriend) ventured off to see Mötley Crüe at a local outdoor venue.




I had seen these bad boys many years ago when they were touring the country during their Girls, Girls, Girls tour. I knew they kicked rump back then, but had they held up? A simple one word answer is HELL YES! Oh, that`s two words. Sorry, my brain is sort of sluggish. It used to be easier to be up late shouting and dancing all night. Nikki (who still looks just yummy), Vince, Tommy, and Mick haven`t let up one ounce! The show was a non-stop power ride through new and old songs.

The Kids-




The old folks (Please note that we older ones don`t care if our hat matches our shirt, we just don`t want sun in our eyes)-





The only downside was that being a resident of the Shire, my chances of viewing things was greatly hindered once the headliners hit the stage. Darn tall people with their long legs! But, aside from having to bounce up and down to take a picture – which turned out to be quite blurry because Madame Baggins here was, in fact, bouncing up and down – the night was a rousing success and the torch of classic rock appreciation has been passed.

If you squint you can see Nikki plucking his bass like the sexy son-of-a-gun that he is on the left of the stage while Vince was singing and Mick Mars was shredding.



Now that I`ve handed the love of great rock and roll to my child, and recuperated from the late night partying, I`m ready for more metal music!



Well, maybe in a couple more days I`ll be ready for more. 

Monday, July 15, 2013

Tuesday Tales - Court

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

In today`s excerpt we first meet our storyteller, Apollo, son of Zeus and Leto. In this retelling of the legend of Orion, we discover that Apollo is being mentored by the Titan sun god, Helios, who hates the golden son of Zeus deeply.

This week our word prompt is ‘Court’. 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!



My name is Phoebus Apollo. I am the son of Zeus and Leto, born on the isle of Delos a few moments after my twin sister, Artemis. I am as old as time yet as young as a breaking dawn. I am immortal. I am godhead. I am divine. I am alone.

I have been called “the most Greek of the gods” but I do not feel it. Most days I look down upon my thin arms and gangly legs in disgust. I cannot pass a pool without stopping to see if I am older, even by another day. But no, I am as I am. Young and beautiful, trapped in this golden form that so entices and bewitches. Anger flares through me upon seeing my reflection. What unjust fate is it that keeps me from being a bearded warrior like Ares?

I tire of always appearing to be a fey youth. Why can I not be a man in body as well as action? Was it not I who slew the great dragon of Delphi with a hundred arrows at four days of age? When will my chest broaden? When will my voice deepen? When will I look the god that I am?! When will I be treated as the chosen bringer of light and not the apprentice, the fledgling, the youthful romantic? The answer to those queries is, "never”.

Is it the unkind touch of Hera upon me that keeps me in such a boyish form?  All who sit in the court of Olympus know the hatred she has for my sister and me. I despair of ever growing older. I despise my reflection. I reach out to slap my face in the cold water. The ripples flare out from my divine touch. When the pool stills I see not myself but the young man I loved and killed. His name is a mere whisper of pain upon my tongue. Never shall I feel for another as I did for Hyacinthus.

I move from the wooded glen and the image of my lover in the water. My bare feet carry me silently and swiftly through the trees that surround the home of Helios. I have been here on this mountain for a long time. My father, seeking to bring back the one who delights those upon Olympus with his golden prose, sent me here to learn the ways of the Titan. One day, Zeus proclaims, I shall be known as the God of Light and Sun. I do not wish to be anything but what I am. I wish only to be left alone, to hunt with my sister when she visits me here, and to recall the feel of my lover`s mouth under mine.


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, July 13, 2013

Wind in White Birch - Issue # 28







It`s time once again for another issue in my free contemporary romance Wind in White Birch. 

I hope you`re enjoying reading this romance as much as I`m enjoying writing it for you.


Storytime Trysts

Friday, July 12, 2013

Scoring Anthology Cover

I just had to share this amazing cover!



I`ve got a story in the Scoring anthology - a sports themed collection of romance tales - coming from Torquere Press at the end of August.

My novella - Goaltender`s Penalty - features a hockey player, a new fan, and a terrible first meeting. After that disastrous first meeting, the attraction between Daryl and Ryan grows hot enough to melt the ice Ryan skates upon!


Thursday, July 11, 2013

What`s On Your Shelf?

Hey there gang, let me put a fresh pot on!


You know, there is nothing I like discussing more than books.



Okay, hot Swedish goalies are up there.



Fine. Comic book heroes can be included as well.



Okay! And sexy zombie hunters too! Sheesh!

Aside from those things, I do love to chat about books. A couple weeks ago I said I`d share my keeper bookshelf. These are the books that never get traded in at my beloved Indie bookstore. These books are loaned out, but only to people who I know will return them in the condition they left in, and who are willing to sign over their first-born as collateral in case of book damage.



As you can see I don`t have a huge wall of books. Not that I wouldn`t love to, but living in a single-wide trailer, space is at a premium. Mister built me these shelves and I just adore them! Down below the books are the table-toppers for my own books. Pretty snazzy, huh?

So, let`s see what we have. We`ll start with the YA section, and see if there are any surprises. 



Nope, nary a shock in the bunch! My Greek god guru and idol Rick Riordan`s books are here, never to be given away, as well as the Hunger Games. I just adore Percy Jackson! I know that you all are quite aware of my love for all things Greek by now. Of course The Hunger Games are also staying right there on the shelf. That trilogy was one of the most powerful set of YA books I had ever read.

Okay, so moving from YA we step into the good stuff. Oh yeah, the grown-up, spicy hot section. *winks naughtily*



Yep, those there are my oft-read and many times drooled upon Black Dagger Brotherhood books. Over the years I have read many a paranormal romance, but no one does Para-Rom like The Warden. What`s that? There are two copies of Lover Unleashed? Well, yes there is. One is the reading copy; the other is personalized by the great one, J. R. Ward, herself. The personalized one is never to be read. It is only to be taken down on high holy days, opened carefully, and then placed back after a loving glance at the autograph.

Once we move past the Brothers (pauses to blow kisses at Vishous) we find my favorite historical romances of all time, the Outlander series. You will note that three of the books aren`t on the shelf. One is being read by a trusted friend, the other is sitting on a pile to be given to that trusted friend, and the last book in the series is waiting in my TBR pile. I have vowed to read An Echo in the Bone before the newest book in the series comes out next spring. I can almost smell the heather and the warm scent of Jamie Fraser as I think about stepping back into history and moving through the stones.

Le sigh.


So, those are my special books. What are the books that you own that you hang onto passionately? 

Monday, July 8, 2013

Tuesday Tales - Long

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing an excerpt from my WIP (Work In Progress) Pink Pucks and Power Plays, an M/F sports romance, starring my sassy curvaceous society page reporter, Viviana Land, and defenseman for the Philadelphia Wildcats professional hockey team, Alain Lessard.

In today`s excerpt we reach the end of the book. Viviana is back at the ice rink, incognito in standard trench-coat and D&G shades, to watch the Busy Bees getting a trophy at the end of the season. Then someone shows up and  . . . well, you`ll have to read along to see what happens.

This week our word prompt is ‘Long’. 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!



Six long weeks had passed since Alain and I had broken up. I glanced up from my iPad, wondering what I could say in my most recent blog post. Blogging was the only writing I was doing now. That wasn`t necessarily by choice, either. Needless to say my backing out of and then deleting my article did not endear me to my EIC. When I flatly refused to let one nugget of personal information pass my lips I was canned. Now I worked the four to midnight shift slinging cocktails at Randy`s Rest, a shit-hole club with a shitty owner and equally shitty clientele.

I hated it but it paid some of the bills. I was quickly using up my retirement fund but if I starved before I hit sixty-five that nest egg was pretty redundant. I glanced at the tiny clock on my tablet and groaned. I had eagerly agreed to coming in a few hours early to give another girl some time off to celebrate her daughter`s birthday. I know, I`m so nice it`s nauseating. Twelve hours of men sliding their hands under my ridiculously short skirt or trying to squeeze a boob. Yippee. Personally I`m amazed I haven`t killed one of the drunken slobs yet. Just because they see breasts all pushed into a bustier they assume it`s grab and grope time. Men are pigs.

“I hope that is not a blanket statement.”

His voice ran over my senses like hundred year old brandy. I rocketed to my feet guiltily, my tablet hidden behind my back. Alain was leaning nonchalantly on my pillar looking as delicious as he ever had. His hair was tousled and his shoulders wide. Waist lean and legs powerful and long, the man robbed me of speech and made my heart flutter dangerously. I hurried to grab my purse from the bench where I had been seated.

“I`m just going,” I mumbled, making my eyes leave him. He was casual in jeans and a dark grey ‘These are my shoes!’ tee with ice skates prominently featured.

“You don`t have to go,” he said. I looked up from shoving my tablet into my purse. I think I blinked. I know my eyes grew dry before I replied with the stunningly literate ‘Oh. Okay.’ “I know you have been here for many weeks,” the man informed me, hands in pockets and shoulder on cement.

“I didn`t think you`d notice me back here.”

“I would notice you no matter where you tried to hide, Viviana.”

I coughed lightly, willing the light breakfast of fruit and coffee to not come back up my throat. I couldn`t allow myself to hear something in his tone that wasn`t there, because there was no way in hell he had just purred at me like he used to.

“The girls did well, considering,” I said and tried to smile while sliding my massive purse over my right shoulder. Alain ran his eyes over me from toes to layered bangs before he nodded.

“They have heart and drive; they will do well with much practice. What is that thing?” he had opened my trenchcoat, exposing my gaudy uniform. I wanted to curl up under a bleacher and die. Instead I smiled widely and popped out a hip, making my coat open wider.

“This is my new work wear.”

“I hear you are selling drinks. I think your new work wear is too short and too much of your boobs are rolling out.”

I gaped at him, my hip sliding back slowly. “Where did you hear about that?”

At this the man smiled and I wondered if I should sit down. Why the hell was he up here chatting about jobs and hockey and acting possessive about my boobs? I was more than confused. I was scared because something like hope was blinking to life in my desiccated heart.

“Your aunt found me after a practice. It was at night, and you were working at that cheap bar. It is below you, Viviana, such a place.”

“It pays the rent,” I threw out to hide my shame at my situation. “I am very sorry about my family accosting you.”

He shook his head, sending a black curl tumbling over his left eye to caress his scarred brow. I sat down before I did something out of line like push that wayward curl from his eyebrow. Alain left his post and sat down beside me. My pulse tripled as his scent enveloped me. Is it possible to grow wet from a man`s elbow brushing yours?

“Do not be apologizing. She was very . . . honest with me about you.”

I then buried my face in my palm. “If she told you about that time I was ten I am still sticking to my story that it was Violet who painted the living room windows.”


His laughter was like balm to my soul. “No, no, she did not tell me of childhood things. She told me about now things. How you told your newspaper that you would not tell them what you knew about me, and so were fired. She told me that you worked at that place and made little money but had men pawing you. She told me that you cried for many weeks when we broke up.”         

“Did she tell you she was a spy?” I asked weakly.

“No, but she was very proud of her hat. I have never seen a beaver sitting in such a position on a person`s head, and I am from Quebec where men sometimes wear moose antlers and nothing else.”

“Dear God,” I moaned into my palm. “Dare I ask what else she said to you?”

“She said that she thought I was being cruel not to give you a second chance, since you love me so very much. Is this true, Viviana, do you love me so much that you give up a job that is so important?” he asked, his hand settling on my bare thigh making me start. I nodded. He absorbed my reply slowly before he spoke again. “So, I think for many days about what she says. I find out that I miss you still very much and that I cannot stop thinking of you. Maybe I am mean, Veikko says.”

“Veikko said you were mean?”

Alain shrugged a shoulder, his warm, rough fingers on my thigh felt glorious. “He said that you make contrition with quitting and not writing about our love on your blog, which I read since it begins. You are very funny, Viviana. I miss your fun in my life.”

“I miss being fun in your life,” I whispered. His head was down and tipped towards me. My heartbeat was loud in my ears. “I never meant to hurt you. It was just an assignment when it started. Then I fell in love with you.”

“Yes, I know. I did the same. I think it would be good for us to maybe try again? I am hoping to do so, if you will quit the cocktail place. I know of a job that is opening in the Wildcats` main office for a promotional person to write things for papers and magazines and, well, do whatever the people in the PR office do.”

“Like press releases?” I asked, my whole being now glowing with hope. Alain shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“I do not know. I am only a puck pusher, yes? You would have to move to Philly though, to take the job. I know a place where you can stay until you find an apartment, if you think you might like to try once more, with me? Est-ce que possible?”

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.


I hope you enjoyed meeting Viviana and Alain. I`ve recently submitted this manuscript to a publisher, so hopefully I`ll have some good news to pass along about the Wildcats and their lady loves soon. But now we need a new story to share and hopefully entice you with every Tuesday.

I like to shake things up for my Tuesday Tales excerpts, and switch between my M/F romances and my M/M romances. Next week I`ll begin sharing snippets from my retelling of the classic Greek legend of Orion, Love of the Hunter, which is being released this October by Torquere Press.



See you next week when we first meet the young god of the sun, Apollo.



Thursday, July 4, 2013

The Equal Rights Blog Hop - July 4 through July 7

What does being a member of the GLBT community mean to me?



Wow, that`s one tough question to answer. I suppose I never really thought about it before now. I just was. There was not one brilliant moment of light that made me leap onto the GLBT bandwagon that I can recall. I simply was here, walking proudly beside those who love within their own gender. I`ve been blessed with an open and rather liberal heart, I suppose. Or perhaps there was a nudge . . .

At a very young age, I was shown how hatred lives in our world. I recall being told I shouldn`t play with a young black girl by my step-father when I was perhaps five. The reason is not one that needs to be explained, we all know why a white girl was being led away from a black girl in 1966. Perhaps it was that incident that helped shape me? I don`t honestly know. I do know my mother battled for my rights to play with who I wished, sadly to no avail, so maybe it was my mother who instilled the notion of accepting everyone for who they are. If so, thank you, Mom, for that and so much more.

 I am an ally of the GLBT community and quite proud of it. Being a part of this wonderful community means that I stand behind acceptance for all people. It means that I shine the light on those who try to infringe on basic human rights when I can. It means I try to put forth the good within the GLBT community that I stand beside. It means I teach my daughter and her children that love is not based on what sex the person lying beside you in bed is.

It means I write romances that show loving couples, be they a man and a woman, or a man and a man, and I hold my work up high for all to see. It means I have a responsibility to keep helping my allies win the battle for marital rights, being able to walk safely down the street, and living their lives just as my husband and I do. It means I try my best to show those who live in fear of others that there is nothing to fear. It means I try to dispel the darkness some carry within to the best of my ability by writing love stories that show how true love really can conquer all.


*~*~*


Looking for zombies, humor, and loving committed men (Who isn`t?)? Don`t want wait until October when that show with the hot crossbow-toting man starts (It`s only July?!)? Grab a copy of Two Guys Walk into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham from Torquere Press and spend your holiday weekend up to your elbows in laughter, macaroni salad, sparklers, and undead goop!

 To win a free e-copy of Two Guys 2, just leave a comment below. I`ll use the always amazing Random Thing Picker to pick a winner sometime Sunday. Make sure to leave your e-mail address so I can contact you and give you your prize!




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For the Grand Prize Giveaway: The year I had my first taste of injustice was _______.





Monday, July 1, 2013

Tuesday Tales - Sun



Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing an excerpt from my WIP (Work In Progress) Pink Pucks and Power Plays, an M/F sports romance, starring my sassy curvaceous society page reporter, Viviana Land, and defenseman for the Philadelphia Wildcats professional hockey team, Alain Lessard.

In today`s excerpt, Viviana has tracked Alain down at the Main Line mansion of Veikko Aho, the Wildcats goalie and Alain`s closest friend on the team. She is there to discuss the news that the youth hockey league plans to close down the program, since Alain left them without a coach after his departure from Green Hills.

This week our word prompt is ‘Sun’. 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!



“Did Veikko tell you why I`m . . .” I snapped my mouth shut when he showed me his back and stormed off. I hurried up the carpeted steps and followed him down a hall lined with oils by provocative newcomers to the art world. Alain sailed into a room at the end of the corridor. I entered a moment later, giving the masculine area a quick scan.

Dark paneling, heavy furniture in blues and hunter greens, trophy cases filled with golden cups and silver pucks and all sorts of memorabilia from a career that was just now in its prime, much like the goalie himself filled the study. I had to wonder what Alain`s life would be like when he was in his early thirties like Veikko was now. I`d have to keep track of him as the years moved past. But now just hearing him breathe across the room was shredding my insides into ribbons. I stared at a picture of the Philadelphia Wildcats posed like school children.

“Say what you come here to say.”

I looked away from the team win to locate Alain standing by a case of glass that held hockey sweaters from days gone by as well as old sticks.

“The youth hockey league is saying they are going to shut down the program because you left,” I told him, hoping he didn`t hear the tremor in my voice. His jagged brow climbed upward a bit. I wanted nothing more than to hold him. I dug my fingernails into my palms instead.

“That is stupid. You call them and tell them someone will be there from this team to coach for the rest of the season,” he announced.

“Why don`t you come back? The kids love you and . . .”

“I do not want to see you every day, Viviana. But, peut-etre, a self-centered woman like you can`t understand this, no?” he asked sharply. That cut went deep.

“I`ll resign,” I countered quickly. He shook his head. “Yes, it`s better that I step down than for those kids to lose you as their coach. They idolize you. The boys and girls both want to be you when they grow up. You`re kind and funny and sweet and patient and gentle yet firm. You`re the perfect man for me – I mean them. Perfect for them,” I whispered.

He stared at me for so long I had to avert my eyes. “Good then. Yes, you step down and I will come back.”

I smiled because I had won, right? Alain was coming back. The kids would learn from one of the best professional players there was, and all I had to do was turn in my beret since I had let Oscar burn the Queen Bee costume.

“Thank you. The kids will be thrilled to hear it,” I walked to the door, my eyes firmly on the curved doorknob and not the hunk of French Canadian man staring at the ceiling. It hurt terribly to know that he couldn`t bear to even look at me. “For what it`s worth, I deleted the article.”

I waited for a second or two. Maybe five or six even. Alain said nothing so I opened the door and walked through, making sure it closed soundly on him. I held myself together nicely as I walked outside to find Veikko and his guests chatting about the Wildcats` chances of winning the Stanley Cup this year. Badger and Veikko were chatting, I should clarify. Liz was staring up at Veikko as if he were a Norse god, a long shank of hair dangling from her lips and her dark eyes all but hidden behind her overgrown bangs.

Badger had decided to spend the night. I thanked him for his help and grabbed my Goth girlfriend by her skinny wrist. We both made a beeline for my Honda. Once I got the driver`s side door closed I lost it. I fell apart totally and sat there crying like a flaming jackass. Finally I had to climb out and hand the keys to Liz because there was no way I could drive.

“I hate rich people who don`t even know you`re there,” Liz kept mumbling as we drove around the fountain with care, “This night is a total FML night, you know?”

“Yeah, I do know,” I gasped, blew my nose, and then let my head thud into the side window. “Thanks for sharing this FML night with me. You`re a nice girl, even if you are spindly.” Liz made a goofy snuffling sound like Sheldon Cooper`s when he laughs.

“You`re pretty okay even if your boobs weigh more than I do,” she countered then sniffled as if she had been tearing up too.

“I hate love,” I moaned as we headed back, the sun cresting over Philadelphia. 


Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey

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