Sunday, March 6, 2016

Snippet Sunday






Howdy! 

My muse made up her mind. For the past week I've been working on the first book for an M/M hockey romance series, the Brighton Wood Blades! I'm so excited to be starting this series since I've been tossing the idea of it around for about two years now. I'm not yet sure if this will be submitted to a publisher of if I'll go the indie route yet. I'll be dipping my toes into the big scary lake of self-publishing again with a holiday M/M hockey novella in December. We'll see how that goes before I make a call on how to proceed with the Brighton Woods boys. 

Today I'm sharing a snippet from Finding the Edge, the first book in the Brighton Woods Blades series. Our leading men are a retired defenseman, Corbin Hancock, and a young forward, Dance Coldecott. 

For this week's snippet we get to enjoy a fun moment when Dance, the city boy, finds himself a wee bit lost in the mountainous rural area of Brighton Woods, Pennsylvania. 

This excerpt is hot off the presses and has not been professionally edited. I've done my best to make it as tidy as I could but there may be some misplaced commas or other mistakes. Please be kind about any flubs you may find. When you're done reading today's snippet, skate on over to Cathy Brockman, Misty Harvey and Ellie Mack's blog to see what they've been up to recently. 

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           Being raised by my paternal grandfather and his sister had never been easy. They were so old and so set in their ways, and old-fashioned thinking, it was scary at times. When I had been young, it was just a matter of them not being able to keep up with a kid. As I got older, it became a matter of their world clashing violently with mine. Life sucked for Dance Coldecott, really it did. Did that sound whiny? Probably. I kicked the front tire just because I hated sounding whiny. There were probably thousands of people who would love to be in my boots.

            I mean, who wouldn't love to be a Coldecott? My grandfather, Durwin Edward Coldecott I, is the owner and CEO of the largest solar commercial and residential installer of solar heating systems on the east coast. Last year Coldecott Solar Energy's revenue had been forty-five million and change. We were sinfully, sickeningly rich.

            "I wish you were home, Dance. We miss you," Aunt Loolah was saying when I flopped back down into the front seat.

            "There's no coming home for me."

            "Maybe if you would just reconsid—"

            Dread crept over me. Jerking the iPhone out of the holder, I stared at the battery display in horror. I might have had a small panic attack, which included beating on the steering wheel with two fists while cussing out my grandfather, homophobia, and the world in general.

            "Oh fuck me royally." I slumped over the steering wheel in defeat. Bon Iver continued singing. I continued feeling sorry for myself. Then a noise broke through the music and old woe is me stuff. What it was I didn't know but I leaped out of the car, leaving Bon to do his thing, and stood beside my Kia. A strong wind blew down the dirt road, lifting the brick red scarf tied around my neck. A large farm machine rounded the corner. The wind shifted a bit. A terrible stink rolled under my nose.

            Jumping up and down like an idiot the farmer and his disgusting shit wagon stopped right beside my Kia. No kidding, I had to hold my scarf over my nose while I talked to the man.

            "Fancy yellow car," the farmer said as he eyeballed me as if I was a Yeti in skinny jeans who had flagged him down.

            "It's a Kia Exclaim," I yelled over the loud rumble of the tractor. "My phone died. Can you tell me how to get to Brighton Woods?"

            He studied me intently, nodded, readjusted his John Deere ball cap, and then pointed down the dirt road. The stench rolling out of the wagon he was pulling was seeping through my scarf. Gagging was not too far off.

            "Go down until you reach the old McArthur farm. Make a left onto the Keeley Road. Follow that to the next fork in the road. Go right, not left. If you go left you'll be in Little Fork Corners, then you'll have to double back 'cause the bridge is out over the Little Fork creek." I blinked at how thick his accent was. "After the right go about ten miles until the road switches from dirt to tar and chip, after that, you go another five miles until you hit blacktop. Keep on the blacktop 'till you reach the main road. Pull a left. Go through the hog back and you'll be in Brighton Woods. Got that?"

           "Can I borrow your cell phone just long enough to access a GPS?" I yelled through my scarf. The old man with the big nose sitting up on that torn seat laughed so hard he nearly fell off his tractor. 





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3 comments:

Misty Harvey said...

Oh Vicki!! This is going to be another great one! I can't wait.

V.L. Locey said...

Glad you like it so far, Misty!

Ellie Mack said...

Made me laugh! I could see my grandpa/ my dad/ my brothers doing the same thing. I can tell I am going to like this one already.