Wednesday, April 30, 2014

A Sit Down With Liz and Veikko

            I grew up outside of Philadelphia, and the city holds many great memories for me. There is nothing like coming back to a warm, friendly place to catch up with those close to us.

            That`s not quite how I felt when I slowed to a crawl as I entered Veikko Aho`s driveway. Creeping between the two stone lions that guard the opening of his drive, I felt kind of little. And poor. Really poor. Like church mouse poor. I was anxious to see Liz and her love, but I was feeling a tad out of place among such wealth.

            Aho lives in Radnor Township, a county that is just one of many affluent communities that lie along the Main Line. The history of the area is pretty fascinating.  The 'Main Line' refers to the old Pennsylvania Railroad line that ran northwest from downtown Philadelphia parallel to Lancaster Avenue. In the 19th century, the towns along the Main Line slowly became sprawling country estates that belonged to some of Philadelphia`s most wealthy families. Over the years the term 'old money' has been bandied about when describing those who dwell in the Radnor, Lower Merion, Gladwyne, and Villanova counties.



             I wasn`t visiting the world of old money today. Nope. Today I was entering the world of new money. Sports money. Big sports money. When I parked my maroon Dodge Caravan with the peeling New York Rangers bumper sticker behind a white Jaguar, I knew I was out of my element. I felt like Granny Clampett when she first laid eyes on Beverly Hills. I exited my van, straightened my slacks and sweater, then gave the gurgling fountain we were all parked around a look. I hurried over to toss a dime into the crystal clear water. I wished not to make a fool out of myself. I gave my watch a fast look. Good. I wasn`t late. Being late, even by a minute or two, is considered very bad form by the Finns.

            When I tripped while ogling the exterior of the ten thousand square foot estate, it was Jethro Bodine I most resembled. Obviously the dime didn`t work. I should have used a quarter. My hand was poised to knock when the double doors flew open. I was more than taken aback when someone threw their arms around me. It took me just a moment to realize it was Liz hugging me tightly as opposed to Veikko`s delightful cook/housekeeper, Mrs. Fraser. We both drew back giggling a moment later. I gave the young woman a fast, motherly once-over. It was hard to imagine that this finely dressed, glowing woman was the same Gothic girl we met in Pink Pucks & Power Plays. It appeared that loving, and being loved, by Veikko had helped our shy black and grey caterpillar transform into a vibrant butterfly.

            "You look like you won the lottery," I said as we stepped into the foyer, arm in arm. I took a moment to slip off my shoes, as is custom in Finnish households, or so the internet tells me.

            "I feel like I did," Liz confided as I was led over black-and-white Italian tiles."We`re really happy you could come out to visit."

            "So am I," I said, allowing the new countess to lead me down an airy corridor lined with modern artwork. "Obviously life on the Main Line agrees with you?"

            She blushed attractively. "It does," she confessed, "And Mama is doing well."

            "Good." I patted her arm. I knew how dearly Liz loved her mother, Helen. And how much Helen depended on Elizabeth. We stepped into the living room. Veikko rose from the couch, an Xbox controller in his hand. I blinked. The goalie winked. I clamped my mouth closed so I didn`t start gushing. Veikko had that effect on me. I wasn`t sure what it was about him. Maybe the icy blue eyes, or the thick sandy blond hair styled impeccably, or the dark blue sweater that made his eyes and perfect white teeth seem that much brighter. Or his cologne. Or the way he tossed the controller aside to clasp my hand between both of his. Yeah, goalies send me


            "Please, sit down. Can I get you a drink?" Veikko asked. I sat on the end of a plush sofa, my attention drawn to the black baby grand in front of a wall of solid glass.

            "A diet soda would hit the spot nicely. So, tell me about how it`s been since we saw you two last. Or do I need to ask?" I chuckled when Liz grew pink. Veikko smiled at his lady love then went to get my drink. You would think that he would be more touchy-feely but this Finn simply isn`t an overly demonstrative person. Liz sat down beside me. I had always noticed a cool exterior to Veikko. Players on other teams call him cold, or aloof. Uppity has also been bandied about, as well as other derogatory things, most said when Aho has shut out his opposition. I simply chalk it up to his personality combined with his upbringing. He certainly has shown he has a fiery side when he`s alone with Liz!

            "It`s been really wonderful. The holidays were super! Someone spent far too much on presents." She gave her 'Count' a pointed look. Veikko shrugged a wide shoulder.

            "What is all the money I make if I can`t spend it on the woman I love?" I couldn`t argue with that philosophy. He padded back to us then handed me a tumbler full of fizzy soda. "Kippis!" he said then tapped his soda-filled glass to mine.

            "That means 'Cheers!'" Liz whispered as I took a drink. "I`m picking up a bit of both languages."

            "I speak Pennsylvanian and not all that well," I said, took a sip, then placed my soda to a round cork coaster on the coffee table. "This is really a lovely house," I said, enjoying the warmth of a spring sun flowing in the windows. "I have to ask, since I`m sure the readers wish to know, is there anything that you`ve discovered about each other that -- you were playing Grand Theft Auto 5?"

            A sheepish look moved over his face. I noticed the couple were discreetly holding hands.

            "He`s a video game addict," Liz whispered. Veikko nodded in agreement." But yes, there are a few things that we`ve discovered about each other since last fall." Liz turned her pretty brown eyes to Veikko. "Can I tell her about your toothbrush thing?"

            "If I can tell her about the way you put away laundry."Liz`s cute nose wrinkled."She has this habit of simply tossing her delicates into the drawer!"

            "Who cares if your underwear is wrinkled? It`s not like anyone is going to see them," Liz argued lightheartedly. "Am I right?"

            I couldn`t help but notice how relaxed and brimming with self-assurance Liz seemed to be. From her casual but well-made pants and blouse, to the new haircut. Even her make-up was light, natural, sophisticated.

            "Don`t yank me into the middle of your domestic underpants battle," I replied then took a quick sip of my soda. I just caught the flash of white fur in my peripheral.

            "Some help you are," Liz said, working to make her frown look sincere."This man is the biggest nitpicker when it comes to clothes. Everything has to be ironed. Even his socks and underwear."    

            "My underwear do not have to be ironed, Piglet," he said, squeezing her thin fingers tenderly. "Now my socks on the other hand…"



            "You two sound like an old married couple already."

            They both said 'Thank You' at the same time. Could two people really be this happy? Do fairy tale romances really happen, and last? I had a thought to ask about future plans. Maybe get a scoop about impending nuptials, a tidbit about any baby plans. I knew both had fervent wishes to settle down and procreate. A snowy ferret climbed up the sofa, then raced across the table, sending glasses, magazines, and the remote for the huge plasma tumbling to the floor.

            "Someone`s in a hurry to get to Isengard," Veikko commented, his voice tinted with exasperation. Liz grabbed up her pet. The Wildcats goalie went to fetch a towel from the bar.

            "I swear, Gandalf," Liz hissed at the ferret. He squeaked and wriggled. The bid for freedom did not work. Veikko returned, then dropped to one knee to dab at the dark cola staining the new off-white carpeting. "He`s a scamp," the young woman said as she rubbed her cheek against Gandalf`s furry side.

            "Scamp is one word for him. Smärta i röven."

            I looked at Liz for a translation. She lifted a thin shoulder in reply.

            "It means pain-in-the-ass," Veikko informed us without looking up from the stained carpet.

            "You love him, even if he is a pain-in-the-ass." Liz winked at me. The man on his knee dabbing soda made a grunting sound that made us ladies smile. A sharp knock on the wall of glass pulled all of our attention from the troublesome ferret, and his mess. Liz`s mother, Helen, and Mrs. Fraser, the housekeeper/cook were waving at us, their hands covered with dirt and their noses red.

            "She looks so happy here," I said as we all waved back.

            "They couldn`t wait to work the flower beds. Mom`s been rather anxious to get her gnomes outside among the posies." Liz made Gandalf wave a paw. Helen and Mrs. Fraser both laughed then returned to their garden duties.

            "Helen has settled in well," Veikko said as he rinsed out the towel behind the bar.

            "She really has," Liz said, releasing her ferret. Off Gandalf went. We all had a good chuckle when the impish thing scrambled over the keys of the piano, scaring himself badly. No amount of cajoling from his owner could get him to stay in the living room now.

            "It sounds like this house is full of fun times," I giggled as the ferret skidded across the tiles lining the hall.

            "It is now," Veikko said, his eyes moving from the dirty towel he was wringing out to his Countess. Liz`s smooth cheeks grew rosy.

            I was no physic. I had no finger on the pulse of the future, but I suspected that this new couple would be sharing many tender moments and laughs in the days to come. It`s not often one gets to see love so pure, so sweet, so sensual. I had a warm feeling flare to life deep inside.
           
            "Call me an old romantic, but I can`t wait to see what the future holds for you two," I said, feeling rather verklempt.

            "Us either," Liz said rather wistfully. "How long do we have to wait for O Captain! My Captain!"

            "Oh, not too long," I teased."Maggie would get snippy if I let her story sit untold."

            "I hope she finds the kind of love that we have," Veikko said then lifted his Countess`s hand to his lips. The kiss he placed on her knuckles was regal. The look in his their eyes when Liz looked at Veikko made me sigh internally. "She deserves it."

            "Oh, I suspect Maggie will do just fine," I said. So far I was batting a thousand. Oops, wrong sport. Well, you all know what I mean.

           




Monday, April 28, 2014

Tuesday Tales - Flying

Welcome to Tuesday Tales! This week I`ll be sharing excerpts from my 2013 NaNoWriMo novel, Laco Law – The Gnarled Oak. Laco Law is an M/M historical western romance, set in the fictional county of Laco, Texas in 1867.

This week our word prompt 'Flying’. In this excerpt Clayton and Zeke discover that fate sometimes smiles upon lawmen.

A note for my readers:  This is a gay romance novel, and so the romance that occurs is man on man. If this is not your cup of tea, no one will think less of you if you read no further.

 As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes 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!



            As it turned out my deputy had not removed the man`s hair from his head. He had stabbed him repeatedly when the drunken sot lunged at Zeke upon entering the building. I should have made contrition for leaping to the wrong assumption but I did not. I rode in steeping anger. When we came back upon the good Dr. Dante, I was beyond foul-tempered. I was a cauldron filled with churning resentment. 

          I pulled the head of the Negro up. Dr. Dante made the identification. We allowed the victim to take back his money, as well as any that the gang may have had upon them. He was ecstatic to have his old swaybacked nag back. He spoke to the horse loudly, sometimes in rhyme, as he hooked her back to his wagon. Zeke was smoking on the other side of the wooden-sided wagon. I sat in the shade, picking at the heel of my boot like it was a scab. Dr. Dante hurried around the wagon smiling widely. I got to my feet.

            “Truly you and your rather taciturn deputy are saviors!” Dr. Dante beamed while shaking my hand. His grip was stronger than I would have assumed. “If not for your timely intervention, I would have been delayed beyond repair to pick up the lads for delivery to--”

            “What did you say? Picking up what lads?” I asked. Dr. Dante`s pale blue eyes grew wide with alarm. The lid upon the bubbling cauldron inside me rattled ominously.

            “Lads? Heavens above, no! Lads! I cannot – Well, the word was simply a mistake spoken in a rush of gratitude that – there are no lads to pick up! None at all! No!”

            The wagon shook terribly when I slammed the snake oil salesman into its side. I heard Zeke grunt in shock. I tightened my hold around the stammering mans collar. His neck and jowls began to grow scarlet.

            “Lie to me again and I will bring my deputy over to remove your hair from your skull,” I growled into Dr. Dante`s pock-marked face. Sweat appeared on his brow. His upper lip twitched. Fear seeped out of his pores.

            “There are unwanted children that I deliver! I swear upon the holy face of God that all I do is transport them from one place to another!” he whimpered. I twisted his collar. He gagged. Spittle was flying from him as his arms flailed aimlessly. “I do not . . . soil them in any way! No . . . scalp . . . please!”

            “Where are you meeting them for pick-up?” I asked. He blabbered uncontrollably. The sight of my deputy coming to see what the disturbance was loosened Dr. Dante`s tongue. He relayed the name of a certain man, a Caldwell Emerson, in San Antonio that was fond of young boys. He used them as house servants as well as bedroom enjoyment. He was known to be fond of the whip. “Did you make a delivery to this man, this Caldwell Emerson, within the past month?”

            “Yes, just a few weeks ago! There was . . . but two children! Apache girl . . . bastard white boy!”

            I then drew back my fist. I drove it into his face relentlessly. Blood coated my right hand, my forearm, and my clothes. It rained over my cheeks. I beat upon that man until Zeke forcibly pulled me from him. Then I kicked out at the snake oil salesman. I longed to drive the toe of my boot into his ribs hard enough to make the bone crack. I attempted to stave in the side of his skull. Zeke dragged me further away, his arms locked around my waist. When the writhing Dr. Dante was out of my reach Zeke threw me to the ground. The ensuing wrestling match was unseemly for two lawmen. My blood rage burned up quickly. I stared unseeing at the man lying on top of me. His hair was in my mouth. My fists lay on his wide back.

            “I am a poor excuse for a lawman,” I confessed breathlessly. Zeke slowly pushed upward, his elbows locking. His bottom lip had been split. “That was . . . unseemly.”

            “You`re human,” he replied with blood coating his teeth. He expectorated a mouthful of blood to the dirt then got to his boots, his clothes coated with dust. I remained on my back, squinting into the brilliant yellow orb in the sky.

            “He deserves to die,” I panted, my head spinning from exertion and mental stress. I felt myself stepping precariously close to that rippling landscape that sometimes engulfed me. “Does he not?”

            “Yes, he does,” Zeke said after he took a moment to light a cheroot with trembling hands. “He delivered innocents into the hands of those who abuse them. A man like that . . . he deserves to die, but not by your hand. He has no bounty. There is no reason legally for you to end his life.”

            “I agree,” I said. “I did not mean to assault him so. It was . . . rage that propelled me.” My voice sounded distant to my own ears. The rushing sound blew in on a dry wind. Dog padded past, his tail between his legs. Zeke called to me. I rolled to my side. I covered my head with my hands. The sounds of a hundred cannons rolling closer vibrated through my soul.

            Zeke did not allow me to fall into the madness. He pulled me to my feet. Shook me, yelled at me, slapped me, held me close. I clung to him with my eyes wide open. I looked at the pummeled face of Dr. Dante. Zeke`s voice beside my ear slowed the pounding of a soldier`s heart. When the worst had passed, I remained in his embrace. His palm moved over my arm tenderly. He cradled the back of my head. He whispered endearments. I thanked him on a reedy exhalation. In his arms the terror was less.

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 with more from the old West!






Sunday, April 27, 2014

Sneak Peek Sunday

Here`s a fun way to discover possible new reads. Just hop from one blog to the next for six paragraphs from that author`s current WIP or published work! This week I`ll be sharing something extra special. Six paragraphs from a M/M hockey romance titled Two Man Advantage. I`m hoping to compile a collection of gay hockey romances, since so many people fell in love with Cam and Jacobi, my leading men in Heir Apparent, which is part of the Seduced by the Game cancer charity anthology.




This novella contains one of my favorite gay leading men, the highly abrasive Victor Kalinski. Be warned folks, there is really bad language in this excerpt. These are hockey players, not monks. So even if you clicked past the mature content warning and have gotten this far, if you are upset by dirty words, now is the time to leave. No one will think less of you. We`ll also be seeing a man in bed with a man. Again, if that`s not your cup of tea, please feel free to move along to the next sneak peek. 


Since this is a rough draft, you may stumble across some errors. I do apologize about any mistakes anyone may find. 


Don`t forget to check out the other Sunday Sneak Peeks!

Sunday Sneak Peeks


*~*

    
Dan crawled over me, settling his body between my longer legs. We made out. We touched. We tasted. We curled up and cradled and clutched.

“I don`t think I can do this,” Dan said sometime later. I held him to my chest. His pelvis rested on my thigh. His prick lay docile and meek on my leg. I had stroked his hair from his face for so long it had dried standing up on one side. “I can`t leave.”

“Dan, you have to. You signed the contract,” I told him. I rubbed the back of his calf with my foot. The sheets were damp in spots so we tried to lie between those wet patches. “Just go and be a star. Your folks`ll be so proud.”

“Fuck this sucks.” He exhaled strongly. His cheek was abrasive against my nipple. I let my hand rest on the side of his head.

“Yeah, it really does.” I shucked him to the bedding, his leg gliding over mine. There was no need to say a word. We made love a second time. Then we grabbed a few hours of restless sleep. We showered separately and got dressed in the clothes we wore last night. And then he left. It was a quiet parting. I pinned him to the hotel door and kissed him until he shoved me away with a hitched gasp.

“This isn`t over,” Dan vowed then slid out into the corridor. I hated to be contradictory but it was over as far as I was concerned.  It had to be. Daniel Arou had it all ahead of him. Me? I was careening in reverse. I stared at the evacuation plan for the third floor as the first rays of the new morning tried to sneak around the drawn draperies.

“I love you,” I whispered, proud as hell of my restraint.


*~*

Looking for more M/M hockey romance? Check out Heir Apparent in Seduced by the Game:




Seduced by the Game



Or you can grab a copy of Goaltender`s Penalty:






Goaltender`s Penalty






Thursday, April 24, 2014

Please Welcome Elise Hepner

You all know me. Someone mentions 'Greek Pantheon' and my ears perk right up! I`m tickled to have Elise Hepner here today to share some info, and a great little character interview, about her new release, Furious Temptation.

~*~




Character Interview: Omen from Furious Temptation

1)      What’s your favorite color?
Green. Don’t ask me why, I hate that question.

2)      What’s the perfect way to let off steam?
Uh, I don’t think I can say, at least not without getting in trouble

3)      When you’re not working, what do you do?
I’m a big reader, I’m halfway  through Les Mis right now.

4)      What was your most embarrassing moment?
Probably being commissioned to make a set of rose gold shackles for Hades for his bride on their anniversary with a matching collar. Yeah, I didn’t need to know those things and now I can’t get them out of my head.

5)      If you could do anything, what would you do?
I can’t. Next question.

6)      If you could go anywhere, where would it be?
My human home. Is that too sappy?

7)      Socks or slippers?
Socks, house slippers sucked in my time.

8)      Boxers or Briefs?
A man doesn’t give away all his secrets, though if you ask me in person I might give you a sneak peak.

9)      Hera, Alecto, and Persephone…Kiss, Marry, Kill?
Oh, you had to break that out, didn’t you? Persephone, kiss…if I married her Hades would kill me and same if I killed her too. Alecto, marry, we could probably work well together. Hera, kill…because, well, it’s self-explanatory right? That doesn’t break the treaty with Mount Olympus does it? Hope she doesn’t read this interview.






Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance

Blurb:  

For millennia Megaera, a Fury, has functioned as Hades right hand by passing judgment on demons who break the sacred laws. Stalwart in her  moral compass, but harboring a curse triggered by rage, she walks a thin line between perfection and destruction. But when she digs into a case  uncovering a string of demon rapes, she incites a war with Mount Olympus that could ripple chaos throughout the ages.

     Omen Cole was demon made during the Civil War after repeated torture at the hands of his enemies.  Sentenced to an eternity as watchdog over  his emotionally frail, once human ex-wife, he’s haunted that he couldn’t save her from a brutal assault.

    Now it’s happened again. And Megaera needs his testimony. Omen will sell his body—and anything else—to avenge his fragile ex-wife. If that means  an alliance with Megaera, he’ll make it the most memorable of their eternity.

Excerpt 1: “Give me a chance, you won’t regret it. You want out of this situation as much as we do. It would be more than worth your trouble, I would guarantee that for you.” His fingers skipped across my collarbone until my fingers shook at my sides and I shoved them onto the edge of the bookcase behind me. I held onto the antique wood and pain twisted up my wrists. But he didn’t move back. His lips remained poised against my ear, our hair mingled, and his fingers danced on the only expanse of naked flesh on my body.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you know by now?”
I couldn’t see his eyes, but judging from his tone they were twinkling and bright with mischief. All the anger he’d been carrying, every stubborn action had been wiped away and replaced with misleading flirtation. And as much as I wanted to doubt him—he was good. Embarrassingly so. Omen’s every attention spanned into a gapping chasm of sex I’d all but put under lock and key. And then I swallowed that key. Yet his teasing voice, small bursts of air from his conversation, still licked across my skin in invisible caresses down my neck.
“Why don’t you tell me.”
If he was truly insinuating what I thought he was whispering in my ear under lock and key as my prisoner I wanted him to say the words. Because I couldn’t imagine he was desperate enough to make the proposition outright. While my fingers scrambled, I navigated the murkiness of my thoughts. If only he’d draw away. As if he meant to break me down bodily before making me take leave of my senses. With the knowledge of his manipulation came the tendrils of my anger that I’d been tamping down all day, trying to bank the embers. Suppression was a nasty business.
As sexy as he wanted this little meeting to be, I had a lovely secret weapon tucked in my pocketless skirt suit. My rage had never been my friend before, but if she would keep me from making a reckless mistake, right this second she was my BFF. Omen shifted as if he knew something between us had changed. Surely the atmosphere between us crackled with a different energy, one far more deadly than the reason I had wanted my hands wound around his neck.
“I’ll do anything you want, be anyone you want, if you give me this chance. Taking you into my bed would be far from a hardship. In fact, I’ll go farther. I can’t stop thinking about you beneath me. How well I’d love to treat your repressed little body so that my name echoes in your mind because you’ve been crying it out for so many hours. I’ll make this risk in the investigation merely a bump to get my attention, for as long as you’ll have me. And for both our sakes, I hope you keep me for a while. I don’t get bored easily.”
As his lies slid across my neck I did the first thing that came to mind. While he was lost in his seductive ploy, I lunged, wrapped my hand around his throat, and threw us both back onto the bed so I was straddling him, pinning both his hands above his head. For a beat I couldn’t recall whether or not my move was intentionally sexual or not—but here we were—and judging by his obnoxious smirk he had a fine idea.
But I only needed one hand to pin down his wrists, so I shifted in a blink and clasped my other hand around his throat, erasing his cocky expression, as if I’d drained the light from the room. His neutral expression held all the calculation of someone very, very careful. And though I’m sure he wished to, he didn’t move a muscle beneath me. Well, expect for the betrayal of his cock, which hardened between my thighs as my skirt rode up higher on my outer thighs and I tried my best to act as if I wasn’t enjoying our little moment together. I’d lose my high ground if I let the smallest moan slip. No matter how hard it was to ignore his pleasant pressure between my legs as his hard cock rubbed against my pussy.
I tried to remind myself I held all the cards when his gaze locked with mine. Neither of us spoke a word, waiting for my answer to his ludicrous proposition. He couldn’t be serious. Not when his charm and good looks got him in with my secretary as much as any other woman he’d seduced in his lifetime. I was one of many, of that I was certain. Even if he did look at me as if I was something special. And I’m sure he would have fought my silent accusations—if I’d given him room to speak.
“Even if for a second I didn’t see past your charade, Omen, I wouldn’t entertain the thought because it very clearly breaks several codes of ethics. But thanks, for the offer. I really, really appreciate it.”
With a look of smug wickedness I put emphasis into my words with every slow tilt of my hips against him as I held him immobile against his bed. His eyes flashed. Whether with anger or arousal I couldn’t care. Instead I slowly untangled us, tugged my skirt, and smoothed it with my hands. Omen lay on the bed as if I hadn’t gotten off of him. When he rubbed his neck with a few low noises in the back of his throat, I didn’t hold an ounce of guilt for my actions. Even if I still sensed him flush against my pussy.
“You still haven’t rejected my prior offer. Does that mean it’s off the table even without the incentive?”
“No. If it means making my job any easier I’ll allow you to see Claudette and follow your plan, but if it doesn’t work expect me to be beyond displeased. And you won’t enjoy me when I’m angry.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I can find many different ways to enjoy you.”
He half sat, leaning on his hands on the bed so I got a peek at his bare chest through the straining buttons of his button down which was rolled up at the sleeves. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t so gullible to fall for his act. No man had wooed me before now and none would unless a group orgy was involved. Granted, what Omen was offering was very one on one—but he only offered his body as a substitute for manipulation. By taking him to my bed I’d be belaying a weakness in my character.
And I had many flaws, but weakness wasn’t one of them.
I silently reminded myself of that as Omen straightened up entirely before wincing at the tent of his pants. I wish I could have felt sorry for him, but my mind was otherwise occupied with our more pressing problem. His erection would go away eventually and I would continue dodging his roguish comments so long as the investigation lasted. If he didn’t get sentenced for Claudette’s crime then the possibility of entertaining him in a less formal capacity in my bedroom slunk around in the back of my mind—but the likelihood of that was slim.
As if Omen read my mind he smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“How do we proceed?”

Excerpt 2:  Omen Cole would get nothing from me. Not when we’d be working together for Goddess knows how long. His grip on my bicep tightened imperceptibly, as if he wasn’t aware of his strength. Heat washed up my arm, as bitingly painful as any burn. But I didn’t flinch, tense, or move a muscle. Let him unleash his rage on me, at least then we’d be working with a clear-headed demon instead of one clouded by unbelievable rage.
“What do you want?” I narrowed my gaze, tongue easing across my bottom lip.
It wasn’t really a question, not as he backed me against the hard press of marble. Nowhere to go and no one to see us. Adrenaline pounded at my temples as his other hand took a hold of my other arm. I was as good as pinned by his body and his stare. I cocked my head, a subtle dare. The lift of my lips, only at one corner—come and get me.
“A distraction.”
Before I could make another comment, the small inch of space separating our bodies dwindled to nothing as he shoved himself on me, his lips bruising against mine as my whole body went limp with acceptance. Take, take from me for the good of our cause—a cause that suddenly outweighed all of my common sense once I’d convinced myself on the walk to the elevator that this form of distraction was exactly what he needed to keep himself on track. Not as though our plan benefited me in any way at all. Gave me an excuse. The excuse.
His tongue pushed against my mouth without invitation and I opened for his perusal knowing that, as his fingers tightened around me and pain spiked up to my shoulders, he wouldn’t give me a choice. Part of me—the beast, the anger—coiled inside me. An innate reaction to a predator as my hands slid up through his button down to have skin on skin. His first few buttons burst because I couldn’t get to him quick enough. I let myself dabble in the freedom of touch. In the longing for unshackled emotion of any kind—and my beast was sated, even as I yearned for more of him.
Our bodies molded together and he groaned in my mouth, easing his other hand to my left breast before he cupped me. His possessive touch was an electric shock to my system and I jerked against him. His laughter as he tugged my lower lip between his teeth and brought my nipple hard against his palm. A yearning unlike anything I’d ever acknowledged, nothing and everything shifted for me all at once as if a part of myself was merely waiting, dormant for the pleasure that would calm me and piece together my tormented puzzle.
When my fingers skimmed the line of his pants, he let out a satisfying hiss that made my panties damp as my stomach plummeted to my sensible heels. In kind, Omen brushed his thumb across my nipple, earning my small shift as if to get away from the torment despite the wall at my back. On the second pass, I did the next best thing. I left the teasing to amateurs. My hand slid past his pants and found his hard, long length hot against my palm. I squeezed him, unable to suppress a noise in the back of my throat that ricocheted inside my bones.
Omen moaned and mumbled something I couldn’t make out with the sound of my need pounding against my temples. As his hand moved from my bicep I tried to pinpoint his next move. Oh, so wrong. His nimble fingers tipped my head back with his tight grip in my hair so it stung enough to get my attention. He underestimated me. I wasn’t losing this battle.
Despite my small groan, lips partway open, eyes slit while I watched his expression flit from one emotion to the next. Nothing stopped my progress when my palm slid from the base of him to the tip, one hard, long slide that made him quake against me. He yanked my head back even further. His grip on my breast was relentlessly hard and he bared his teeth in a smile that rocked me to my core.
“You haven’t gone for the obvious point yet.” I struggled to exhale, every bit of me trembled, and my voice was gravely with lust.
“Unlike you, I don’t need to cheat.” He drew close to my cocked back head as our lips almost pressed together, our body heat mingling as he ground himself against my palm. “For another time.”
His light kiss caught me by surprise—but the swiftness with which he entangled from me must have hurt, as I was still very much attached to him. Even from practically across the room he showed no pain. Though his pants were a bit constricted at the fly and that bit of discomfort was enough of a hit for me that I was satisfied.
“I wasn’t distraction enough for you?”
“No, you were perfect. I simply can’t stand the idea of using you up so quickly. Even if I do want to fuck you into the wall behind your back until you can’t walk straight for a week. But a gentleman doesn’t tell his superior that, especially when she’s a lady of good breeding. So you think on that, and I’ll pretend I didn’t say it out loud. Wouldn’t want to give you any ideas you couldn’t handle.”
“I can handle far more than you know, little boy.”
“Oh, now, come on.” He gave me an incredulous, cocky look. “We both know I’m not little. The warmth tingling on your palm speaks for itself.”
Thankfully before I had the chance to lick my lips and tip my hand, the elevator’s telltale wind pushed us both a bit to the side. The car came to a standstill with barely a screech of effort and the golden, shimmering doors pulled back as I fought to regain some kind of composure. I was buzzed from the tips of my toes to the top of my scalp. It took everything in me to wipe the dopey grin off my face that would have proved it as I moved into the elevator car without another glance or word to Omen. I only knew he followed me because he greeted Hermes and told him to take us to the archival room.
Point. Set. Match.
And there would be no rematch.



Bio: Elise Hepner lives with her husband and two eccentric cats in Maryland. She spends the majority of her free time in her basement office concocting smutty characters and sinful situations that leaves readers satisfied. When not writing, she researches everything from automatons in the 18th century to gladiatorial rules in Ancient Rome. She prides herself on being an avid information hound as well as a blog reading addict--which is her favorite way to procrastinate. Her previous publications include books and stories with Entangled, Excessica, Xcite, Ellora's Cave, Secret Cravings Publishing and Cleis Press.

Author Links:

Website: www.elisehepner.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/EHepner



Wednesday, April 23, 2014

QTA Blog Hop and Giveaway!

Hello, and welcome to my little corner of the interweb! My name is V.L. Locey and I`m a multigenre erotic romance author. I love being able to jump from M/M to M/F as my Muse dictates, then leaping from a saucy ice hockey tale into a zombie apocalypse!



I was thrilled to get the invitation to participate another Queer Town Abbey Blog Hop. And the theme was a straight up winner! Favorite summer memory. There are so many to choose from, but the one that leaped out is one from the summer after I graduated high school. A couple friends and I decided to hit the Jersey Shore as a sort of last hurrah. 

I won`t mention names, but we`ll just say that Madame J and I were thick as thieves back then. Still are. I might have had a crush on Master J, the young man with the golden locks, killer smile, and cherry red Chevy Chevelle SS that looked something like this:



 Uh-huh. Yeah. The stuff of dreams right there, gals and guys.

Of course, being kids right out of high school, we never imagined that we might have any trouble. We were bullet proof. Isn`t that what every eighteen year old thinks of themselves?

Well, things were fine until that hot red muscle car needed gas. I`ll date myself badly here but getting gas in June of 1979 wasn`t always easy. Those along the East Coast were caught in the second oil crisis to hit the US in that decade. If you`re unfamiliar with this event, Wikipedia has a rather nice account of it. Many gas stations looked like this:



And if you happened to find one that did have gas, the lines were like this:




Needless to say, it was quite a hairy experience. We did manage to get enough gas to get us back home, but had to sleep on the beach for a couple of nights until the nearest gas station got a delivery. Good times. Good times.

Do you have any summer memories from those wild teen years? If so, and you`re not too embarrassed, share them down in the comments thread. Those who do leave a comment will be entered to win their choice of one of my M/M backlist Torquere Press books. Check them out here:


You must leave your summer memory as well as your email address. If you do not leave your contact information, I can`t contact you. I`ll be forced to skip over any comment without an email address as I simply do not have time to search for the commenter. So please, leave that email address when you comment! I hate having to omit folks.

Thanks for stopping by and make sure to visit all the other participating authors!


Have a swinging summer!

V.L. Locey





Monday, April 21, 2014

Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing excerpts from my 2013 NaNoWriMo novel, Laco Law – The Gnarled Oak. Laco Law is an M/M historical western romance, set in the fictional county of Laco, Texas in 1867.

We have a picture prompt this week so the excerpt is written to reflect the image and must be three hundred words or under.  

A note for my readers:  This is a gay romance novel, and so the romance that occurs is man on man. If this is not your cup of tea, no one will think less of you if you read no further.

 As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes 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!



They were the most gloriously stupid men I had ever met. Drunk as hogs they fired at us sloppily. I called to the four drunkards again. They kindly refused to lay down their weapons. Bringing them in dead sounded better to me. So we proceeded to pick them off one by one. It was akin to shooting at chickens in a pen. 

When one head would pop up in the window, the Henry balanced on my knee would eradicate the outlaw. I had plucked three inebriated fools when Zeke entered the dusty Express station. I stood up, cradled my Henry, and waited. He emerged a few moments later, his hands covered with blood.

“You shall need to stop doing that when you are wearing the badge,” I informed him as we went about gathering the bodies for transport back to Galveston. Hopefully they carried bounties for we were sorely lacking in funds. His eyebrow quirked upward in response. “It upsets the civilians,” I added. He stooped down to rub dirt over the tacky red liquid coating his fingers, his motions cool as a breeze over a snow-capped mountain.

“Maybe the civilians should be worried about upsetting me,” he commented as he worked the dust into the blood.

“Maybe, but since they outnumber you by a few thousand, you may wish to reconsider your defiant disposition. Scalping is not accepted among the . . .”

“Who said I scalped him? Quick to jump to conclusions, aren`t you, Pan?”



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 with more from the old West!