Thursday, March 31, 2016

Throwback Thursday Tunes




And to wrap up this windy month of songs, how about a little Christopher Cross? I sure hope he reached that Mexican border.



Monday, March 28, 2016

Tuesday Tales - Swallow



Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.



Today we have the last issue in my historical M/M romance, Dear Jon, which is set in 1945. Every issue of this serial will be under 1500 words so they're quick reads.  Our word prompt today is 'Swallow'. This story contains mature language and gay sexual situations. If that offends now would be the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales offering. 

Don`t forget to visit the other talented Tuesday Tales authors. Thanks for stopping by!




            "Why don`t you and Aunty Charlotte go see what those noisy birds are up to?" Charlotte asked, rising from her seat to take Andrew by the hand. The boy looked at me. I nodded at him. Out they went as Corporal David Brooks held the door open for them as gallant as any man could be. Andrew peeked back once through the dirty screen. I smiled to put the lad at ease.
            "Are you two queer?" David asked as soon as Charlotte and Andrew were out of hearing range.
            "Yes," I said as strongly as possible. Ross squeezed my fingers. I have never felt as vulnerable as I did at that moment. The radio was nothing but white sound now. I couldn`t tell you who was riding the airwaves for all I could hear was my pulse pounding in my ears.
            "I just wish to say that while we may be homosexual that does not mean that we are pedophiles. Those are two vastly different--"
            "I`m well aware of the difference," David said then came back over to sit across from me. "My brother is queer. I suppose I was just shocked to hear that two queer men were going to raise a boy in such a backwoods county."
            Ross had to speak. I was too overcome with emotion to form a coherent thought. His brother was queer. Oh, thank you God or whoever looks down on men like Ross and me.
            "We had the secret well hidden," Ross explained. I nodded along as the whole story unfolded. I even smiled a bit when David choked on his bite of pie when the revelation about Charlotte was made. "I would have never guessed," he said after washing down the pie with some fresh coffee. "Betty never mentioned the fact that you were a homo. She just said you and her had harsh words the day your father died. She mourned the loss of your relationship, Jon. I can tell you that."
            "Yes, I do as well," I said timidly. "So, David," I began as Ross sat down on my left. We could hear Charlotte scolding the geese for splashing her dress on the hot summer wind blowing through the screen-door. "You said you had family in Boston? Is that . . ." I had to pause to force the query out. "Is that where you and Andrew will be going?"
            He nodded. My heart broke into several large chunks.
            "Yes, my family owns a large foundry that will employ over a thousand men. Most were off serving but now they`re slowly coming back. I have a managerial position waiting for me. My mother and father, they`ve opened up their home for Andy and me. I think, well, I think we`ll take them up on the offer. I had planned to buy a nice little house for Betty and me but . . ." he swallowed down his own ball of grief. Was it possible that this man, this shell of a soldier, this gaunt willowy man could need the uncompromising sort of love that only a child could give? Could he need Andrew now more than I did?
            "Would your mother take care of Andy while you were working?" I enquired. Ross now had my hand under his. Being open about our love made this a little easier.
            "Yes, she would. She`s looking forward to having us both back home. She, uhm, she said she feared she would never see her youngest son again, and now she has a son and a grandson to coddle."
            Corporal David Brooks blushed. I could not help but like the man no matter how I wanted to hate him. And believe you me, I was trying to hate him to beat the damn band!
            "Your parents sound like fine, upstanding people," Ross said. "I know this is very forward of me, but do you think it would be possible for Jon and I to come see Andrew once in awhile?"
            David lowered his mug from his thin lips. "I should hope so. Actually, I was hoping you and Jon would come along. I think if you two were there - people he knows and is obviously close to - well, it would make things easier for the lad, don`t you think?"
            "Yes," I grinned, "Yes, I think it would make things much easier for him. Thank you, thank you so much," I said then began to cry despite all my efforts not to. Ross handed me his hankie.
            "Betty would never forgive me if I cut off her Jonny. Tell me, did she leave any kind of letters for me with you?"
            I shook my head as I blew my nose. "No, there was only one letter. I`m ashamed to say that I haven`t read it yet. Life has been quite a whirlwind since I learned about Andrew."
            "Ah," David said, looking rather crestfallen. "Well, if you should ever come across any addressed to me that she wrote while she was ill I`d be glad to have them. How much is it like her to not share that sort of news with those she loved?" he asked with a wistful smile. "Damn, she was one strong woman."
            "Yes, she was."
            "I can see that same kind of strength in you. I mean, moving out here to raise my boy alone, knowing how much the people here resent your kind. You gave up everything for Betty`s son, and that takes courage. I`m really glad Andy will have men like you in his life."
            I began sniffling again. I was glad Andy would have men like us in his life as well. And a father that was so open-minded. And an aunt who wore pumps and pin-striped frocks like no other woman.

            *~*~*

Dear Jon,
I know this is going to come as a terrible shock, given how we ended things. You have no idea how many times I wrote letters to you, only to crumple them up. Pride. It is certainly a blessing and a curse and something you and I, and yes, Father, have in abundance.  Jon, no matter how you may feel about me, and the stand that I took that day, please do not let your hatred for me spill over onto Andrew. He is my darling baby boy. You are his uncle. He is all the family you`ll have left once this cancer takes me. His father is presumed dead, and that dream I had of marriage and a family is now gone. All that is left is sickness, hospitals, and a lost little boy with his uncle`s eyes and laugh.

Love him. Raise him well. Teach him about acceptance and forgiveness. Hold my baby close to you and never let anyone say that a man like you can`t be a good role model. I don`t care if you`re queer, Jon. I never did. Daddy did, I know, and I can only guess how much his disgust hurt you. But when I said those things about trying to be more like the rest of us, I only wanted to see you happy and safe. You took it to mean I was against your being a queer. I wasn`t. I was terrified of you being a dead queer.

Funny how when your time is near you see things with so much clarity, isn`t it?

Love,
           Your sister,

Betty

             I laid the letter on the counter. The sun was falling behind the trees. George and Gracie were resting beside the creek with their heads tucked under their wings. Andy and his father were sitting on the bank, talking to each other. The setting sun cast them in brilliant orange. I drug the back of my hand under my eyes. Someone big, firm, and kind slipped his arms around me.
            "I hear they have lovely landscapes in Massachusetts."
            My lips pulled up at the corners even though the tears weren`t dried yet.
            "I hear they have lots of wood there as well," I replied soaking all the strength I could from his embrace. "She never hated me for being queer," I choked out. Ross held me tight as father and son began to laugh out by the creek. We stood there in silence for several minutes.  "Will you come to Boston with me? With us?"
            "Just try to stop me," he whispered teasingly as a redhead called out that the hot dogs were sufficiently burnt.
           

           

The End




I hope you enjoyed Jon, Ross, and Andrew`s story. It has been a joy for me to write. I hope it has shown, in some small way, the steps that we have made in learning acceptance. Even today the war wages on but as Jon and Ross can attest to, love is love. It does not matter what gender or race those in love are. Let`s knock down those last remaining walls of intolerance once and for all.

Next week I'll begin sharing snippets from my current works-in-progress. Hope to see you then!


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


See you next week!













Sunday, March 27, 2016

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Throwback Thursday Tunes



 A great song from one of my favorite singers, Neil Young, singing about winds and keeping with our theme.








Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Full Strength Release Day!




What a bittersweet day this is for me. While I'm thrilled to have Victor's last book finally released, it breaks my heart to say goodbye to "The Venomous Pole" and the man who loved him though lots of ups and downs. I know lots of readers hated Vic, but plenty loved him as well. He certainly won my heart and I hope he wins yours with this last novella.

If you're interested in reading some exclusive excerpts, visit the following blogs during the Full Strength tour!




Blurb:

What a difference a year makes. Twelve months ago, Victor Kalinski was one of the best and most controversial ice hockey players in the pros. This year he’s playing in the minors, has a paternity case pending, and has just been vindictively outed to the world by one of his own teammates.

But he seems to find life in the tiny town of Cayuga to his liking. A large part of that is Dan Arou, the Cougars’ alternate captain and the man who now holds Victor’s heart. Surely venomous, viper-tongued Victor hasn’t been mellowed by love!


Well, perhaps a little. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t intend to get sweet revenge on those who’ve hurt the man he loves and the friends he’s somehow made along the way.




Buy Links:

Amazon-http://amzn.to/1U7oENq

Monday, March 21, 2016

Tuesday Tales - Mirror



Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.



Today we have the next issue in my historical M/M romance, Dear Jon, which is set in 1945. Every issue of this serial will be under 1500 words so they're quick reads.  Our word prompt today is 'Mirror'. This story contains mature language and gay sexual situations. If that offends now would be the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales offering. Since I made a tiny boo-boo last week, I'm using the same word prompt two weeks in a row. I'm so silly at times! =D

Don`t forget to visit the other talented Tuesday Tales authors. Thanks for stopping by!




            Dinner arrived with flair. Pity that pizzazz wilted as soon as Charlotte sashayed into my sister`s humble cottage. Andrew was on my lap, stuck to me like a dry burdock. Ross was filling a plate with some pie I had purchased at the diner. Coffee was percolating. Andrew`s father sat in one of the rickety chairs looking lost. His eyes would not move from his son. And damn me for being a bastard, I held onto my nephew as if he were my life. Well, he was.  Half of it anyway.
            "It`s not homemade, Corporal, but I wager even store-made might be tasty," Ross said as he placed the plate with the thin slice of cherry pie in front of the soldier.
            "Isn`t that just my luck?" Charlotte said brightly. Our guest glanced over at the stunning redhead and his mouth dropped open an inch. "A good-looking man in uniform drops in and I`m off fetching meals!"
             David stood up so rapidly his chair raced across the kitchen. He whipped his hat off his head.
            "My name is Charlotte," she announced after depositing our meals on the table. He took her gloved hand gently. "Imagine a lady having to introduce herself."
            "Sorry," Ross said as he moved to stand behind me. "We were still trying to recuperate from the pleasant surprise of Andrew`s father showing up."
            Charlotte`s smoky eyes went wide. She allowed the soldier to bow over her hand then tugged free, her usually composed features mirroring her shock.
            "I didn`t mean to cause hard feelings," David said. I pulled Andy closer. Ross placed a hand to my shoulder where it joins the neck.
            "There are no hard feelings, Corporal," Ross said kindly as his fingers worked on the steel cords in my neck. "We are beyond thrilled to have our boys coming back home to their families."
            Charlotte took the seat next to me. She stared at our guest openly, trying, I was sure, to find the similarities between Andrew and David. She didn't have to search long. I met her worried look with one of my own. Ross continued kneading the knot in my neck. 
            "I just want you to know that I am thankful beyond words for what you`ve done for Andrew. Taking care of him as if he were your own son. I - well, when I was recuperating all I could do was worry about him and his mother. She never mentioned any illness at all. The letters . . . just stopped suddenly. Then when I got into town and started asking around . . . I am so sad that the good Lord took her," he said, his eyes growing dewy.
             Charlotte handed the G.I. a frilly pink handkerchief from her clutch. He politely declined the offer.  I turned my head so no one could see my tears welling up. I could not cry. Not in front of Andy. He had to know that his father coming to get him was a good thing. Ross rubbed harder to counter the emotional train wreck I was about to become. "We had planned to get married after the war and move to Boston where the family business is. Damn my stupidity for not insisting she marry me before I shipped out!"
            "Don`t berate yourself, Corporal," Charlotte whispered to the distraught man. "We all think that we have lots of time."
            "You`re very kind, Ma'am," he said thickly. I went to stand up. Ross kept me seated, fearing I would bolt. He was getting to know me rather well.  The geese were at the back door. Andrew wiggled free.
            "That`s George and Gracie," he informed the stranger with the same chin as his. My stomach cramped. Ross now had two hands on my neck. "They eat bread. You want to feed them?"
            David smiled weakly at his son then nodded. The two went outside, each with a slice of  bread in hand. As soon as the rickety screen door closed, I buried my face in my hands. Charlotte began whispering platitudes. Ross worked on my neck to the point of pain. I welcomed the harsh fingers deep in my knotted muscle. It kept me from breaking down into a blubbering blob completely. Ross bent down, his thick arms wound around my shoulders. I leaned back, sucking in rapid breaths to try to regain some control. The radio was playing a song from that movie that Bogie released a few years ago.
            "I know," Ross said as his rough cheek rested against mine. "I know how hard this is for you, but the boy has to be with his father, Jon. I will be right at your side. You know I love you, right? We`ll get through this together."
            I nodded. Ross placed his lips to my damp cheek. The door opened with a slam. I jerked sharply as did the man holding me so intimately. Andrew bolted up to the table with mud on his nose. Corporal David Brooks stood in the doorway, the smile he had been wearing slowly slipping as he spied me in my lover`s embrace. If not for the gentle music falling from the radio, the moment would have been unbearable. As it was, I knew any thought I might have entertained about asking for visitation was now gone.
            I took one of those strong, rough hands on my shoulder in mine and held on tight.

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 Tuesday Tales authors.


See you next week!




Sunday, March 20, 2016

Snippet Sunday





Howdy! 


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

For this week's snippet we move back to Dance's point of view. This book is just flying along so it's going to be a bit jumpy at times and I apologize for any confusion that causes. Generally I write quickly, but this story is one of those that will not let me rest! And I am loving every minute of it.  In this snippet we get a good peek at how things are progressing relationship-wise between our two leading men. 

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. 



~~*~~


           "Dance," he shouted then waved the collapsible fishing poles at the opening. "If one of Lem's cows gets out I'm making you chase the fucker!"
            Knowing he would follow through on the threat, I threw the tackle box to the ground then unfolded myself out of the sidecar. I never even gave him a sideways glance when I stalked past him at the gate. A sound like an amused chuckle met my ear but I ignored it as well as the man who made it. The gate rattled shut behind me. My shoes had not been made for walking around the edge of a pond. They were nice suede boots made for city streets. By the time we arrived at a spot Corbin pronounced as suitable my feet were soaked as were my pant legs up to the knee.
            "Sit down."
            I gave the crooked tree behind us a look."I'd really rather stand."
            "Suit yourself." He bent down, opened the tackle box, found a lure that looked like a frog, and attached it to his pole. I folded my arms over my chest. A sharp smack to my ass sent me into the air with a yelp. "Sorry," Corbin said and tried to flip his fishing rod out to its full length. "I told you to sit down."
            With that, he dropped to his ass and leaned his back against a tree. Rubbing my backside where his pole had hit me, I stabbed him with dark looks. All he did in return was stretch out his legs, cross them at the ankle, and rest his pole over the tip of his black biker boots.
            "Why don't we try opening up the dialog by saying that the next time you send someone an email under my name I'll be on you like ugly on a baboon's ass." The pond was nice, too many bugs, but nice. The red cows were now staring at us. A blackbird with scarlet epaulets landed on the top of a post nearly hidden by brackish pond water and called out a loud Okaleeeeee. "I'll take your silence as meaning you understand." He reeled his lure up and casted again. It hit the water with a soft plop! that startled the black bird. "Now why don't you tell me why a kid who wears a watch that cost more than my mother paid for her house twenty years ago turned white as a ghost when renovations to the rink were mentioned."
            Dropping down into a crouch I watched his frog lure slowly coming back to shore leaving oddly shaped ripples in its wake.
            "It just startled me is all," I lied then flopped down to sit on the damp bank. My hip rested flush against Corbin's thick calf.
            "Uh-huh." Several long moments ticked by. My chin rested on my knees. Corbin must have cast out his lure at least a dozen times as I fought off a couple of persistent flies and tried not to feel the heat of that leg seeping into my hip. "You know that you can talk to me about any kind of shit that's going down in your life, right?"
            My sight darted from the nosy red cows cooling their bellies in the pond to Corbin. His expression sure looked sincere.
            "Yeah, right," I replied and then went back to watching cows skinny-dipping. His exhalation rolled over the low hum of flying insects. A dragonfly zipped by. Corbin's hand settled on my left shoulder. My body tensed. He squeezed, pushing his strong fingers deeply into my flesh. I wet my lips and glanced at the huge hand resting by my neck. Then my sight moved up his arm, over the cheap watch and tattoos in thick black ink, until our gazes locked. I'd never seen so many things in a man's eyes as I did that day. I wanted to take each emotion and extract it, analyze it, place it on a slide and study it under a microscope. Reading the things swimming in his gaze made a hunger rise up inside of me.
            "You and me…shit…it's going to end in heartache I can tell. Damn my soul if I can stop thinking about kissing you." His voice was smoky and hot. His fingertips bit into my shoulder as he tugged me back and to the side. I thought about resisting just to prove something. Something like maybe I didn't want him to touch me or say shit like that. But I did, I really did. God how I wanted it.






Don't forget to drop by Cathy, Misty and Ellie's blogs-



Thursday, March 17, 2016

Throwback Thursday Tune



Here's a classic windy song that always takes me back to my teen years. Who else loved Kansas?


Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Full Strength Cover Reveal!



I have to confess that as much as I am looking forward to this book coming out, I'm also dreading it. Saying goodbye to Victor and Dan is going to be really tough. I have fallen head over heels with these two men, the Cayuga Cougars, and the people who share Victor and Dan's world.

When I wrote the first book of this trilogy I never expected it to be such a success. Two Man Advantage has the most reviews/rankings of any of my books at Goodreads. That still amazes and humbles me.

I knew when I wrote Vic for the first time he was not your ordinary romance novel hero. I also knew that readers would either love him or hate him. And my gosh how the haters do hate him! I am so proud of him for pulling such strong emotions from people. I hope the final book in the Point Shot trilogy moves readers as deeply as the previous two have.

Now let's take a peek at the cover, blurb and an excerpt!




Buy Links:

Amazon

All Romance eBooks

iTunes

Goodreads Link: Full Strength

Blurb:


What a difference a year makes. Twelve months ago, Victor Kalinski was one of the best and most controversial ice hockey players in the pros. This year he’s playing in the minors, has a paternity case pending, and has just been vindictively outed to the world by one of his own teammates.

But he seems to find life in the tiny town of Cayuga to his liking. A large part of that is Dan Arou, the Cougars’ alternate captain and the man who now holds Victor’s heart. Surely venomous, viper-tongued Victor hasn’t been mellowed by love!

Well, perhaps a little. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t intend to get sweet revenge on those who’ve hurt the man he loves and the friends he’s somehow made along the way.


An adult gay romance from Ellora’s Cave


Excerpt: R-rated


“Is there something about pregnant bladders?” I asked as Dan and I meandered through the convenience store while Heather used the bathroom.
“You’re asking me?” He picked up a package of nacho cheese flavored chips and tossed them into the basket riding in the crook of his arm. “Want some blue cheese corn chips?”
“Sure.” I followed the Munchkin with the killer ass. “So what the hell would have made her cry like that? I mean, is Manfred Mann that fucking sob-worthy?”
Dan shrugged a meaty shoulder. “I’d never even heard of Manfred Mann before this car trip. Think we should try to find something nutritious?” His lapis eyes, those eyes that fill my dreams, scanned the inside of the gas station-stroke-convenience store.
 “You’ll be lucky to find doughnuts that haven’t been here since Nixon was in office,” I said as I lifted a box of uncooked macaroni and peered into the small cellophane window. “So is that normal? Crying over a fucking Manfred Mann song?"
"I think so,” he replied, then threw a box of powdered doughnuts into his basket. I yanked open a cooler on my right and extracted three bottles of milk, two chocolate and one white for Miss Weepy Britches in the powder room. “I’ve seen some shows about how women’s hormones are all over the place when they’re pregnant.”
“Hmm.” I glanced up when the bells over the door jingled. Heather bounced in looking cheerleader pretty. “You okay with all this?” Dan looked up from the rows of snack cakes to me, then to Heather chatting up the kid behind the counter. She was all white-toothed smiles and flowing golden hair. I’d bet that teenager staring at her like a besotted beaver had a boner so big it was probably tapping the alarm button under the countertop.
 “With her, you mean?” Dan whispered. I nodded. He nudged me back a few steps, so Heather couldn’t hear us. “She’s okay,” Dan said glancing over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t coming toward us then looking back at me. New whiskers covered his cheeks and neck. I had an urge to slam him against the wall and grind my face against his body, starting at his neck then making my way downward until his balls were pink and tender from the abrasion of my whiskers against them. “Stop thinking about sexing me up.”
 A sly smile tugged at my lips. Fuck, but he knew me well.


~~*~~

There will also be an excerpt tour from 3/23-3/30 hosted by Pride Promotions. I'll pass along the tour stops as soon as I have them so you can follow the tour and read all the exclusive excerpts! 





            



Monday, March 14, 2016

Tuesday Tales - Mirror



Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.




Today we have the next issue in my historical M/M romance, Dear Jon, which is set in 1945. Every issue of this serial will be under 1500 words so they're quick reads.  Our word prompt today is 'Mirror'. This story contains mature language and gay sexual situations. If that offends now would be the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales offering. 

Don`t forget to visit the other talented Tuesday Tales authors. Thanks for stopping by!



            Charlotte had brought my oils up from Greenwich a few at a time. I had sold several to tourists, and had three new ones with a decided rural feel hanging in my lover`s shop. She had also sublet my studio for me.  Life was good. Ross and I had finally found some peace. We spent nights fishing or playing baseball with Andy then we would retire inside and listen to the radio until Andy drifted off. Ross and I would then slip off to make love after the boy fell asleep. I never once felt like the pulse of the city was missing. I simply could not imagine anywhere else I would rather be that angry librarian aside.
            It was on a sweltering Friday evening that three of us men - Ross, me, and Andrew - were splashing in the creek that runs behind my place. George and Gracie stretched out their necks at us from time to time, but those two goofy birds in their down vests were too hot to honk. We were in shorts. I was seated on a large rock while Ross waded about in the swimming hole with his arms under Andrew`s pale belly. The lad was kicking to beat the band. His swimming lessons were going rather well. A car horn pulled my attention from Andy and Ross. I stood on the flat grey rock to see who was coming. Charlotte was sashaying across my yard, chunky heels to match her pink and black polka-dot dress. Even her hat had a polka-dotted band.
            "Well, well, look at all the wet, gleaming muscles!" the redhead announced when she arrived at the creek bank. A dragonfly zoomed past my face.
            "Aunt Charlotte! I got muscles too!" Andy yelled then flexed. Charlotte fanned her face with her gloved hand.
            "Why you`re another Johnny Weissmuller," she remarked, to which the boy did his best Tarzan call. The geese took exception to the lad being louder than they were. They flapped off to lounge in the shade on the other side of the creek.
            "I thought you weren`t coming up this weekend," Ross said then scooped Andy up for a ride out of the water. I followed behind in case the wild one toppled off Ross`s wide shoulders.
            "Yes, well, the man I had planned to go to Martha`s Vineyard with went with his wife instead," Charlotte said with a scowl. The wind tugged some red strands out from under her hat. "So, I decided to come spend the weekend with more faithful boys. Come give Aunty Charlotte a smooch."
            As soon as Andy`s bare feet hit the ground, he was kissing Charlotte dutifully on both cheeks.
            "He smells like frog spit," the ginger said as she straightened with some assistance from me. She patted my wet arm then squeezed my bicep. "As do you. Tell me, Ross, do you smell of tepid creek water as well?"          
            Ross lifted his armpit then sniffed loudly. "Yes, Ma`am, I do."
            "Well to heck with all of you stinky men! I`m heading back into town for some food. What shall I bring us? No! Do not think to offer to pay Ross Coleman. I am celebrating getting rid of a philanderer."
            Five minutes later Charlotte was speeding off to fetch us a rare take-out dinner. Cash wasn`t quite as tight now as it had been, but Andy and I were still living frugally.
            "Uncle Ross?" the boy pulled on Ross` hand. We both glanced down at the sodden young man. Water trickled from his sandy blonde bangs down his nose. "What is a philanderer?"
            "Don`t look at me, Uncle Ross," I chuckled then headed into the bungalow to gather some dry clothes for the three of us. He was on his own for that one.
            "Well, Andy, a philanderer is someone who collects dinosaur bones." Ross`s answer drifted in the open windows. I snorted at the clever reply. That lover of mine was one quick thinker.
            "Then I want to be a philanderer when I grow up!"    
            Ross laughed long and hard. There was no suppressing my laughter either. God, did we both love that child. Our lives could not be much better. We were no sooner dried off and dressed when we heard a car rolling into the drive. Andrew went barreling out the front door as he always did when Charlotte was expected.
            "That boy is infatuated with his aunt," Ross said as he pulled a sleeveless t-shirt over his dark, damp head.
            "She`s a real doll," I said with a wink before grabbing a kiss. Out we went, to help Charlotte carry in her bounty. We both stopped cold. Andrew was still on the porch, the bare toes of his left foot fiddling with his old ball and glove lying beside his toy box.
            A tall man slowly opened the door of a rather rough Chevrolet coupe. He was tall, fair-haired, and lean. So lean that he looked like he was just this side of starvation. His once handsome face held the dark hollows of someone who had recently come back from emaciation. He was in uniform, although it hung off his once strong shoulders. I tipped my head as he limped across the yard. His chin held my attention, as did the bold stroke of his eyebrows. I reached out to find Ross`s hand. The name over his heart read Corporal David Brooks. My throat grew tight. My grip on Ross increased.
            "Evening," he croaked as he removed his hat," I - I`m sorry I came unannounced but, well, you have no phone. I just had to come as soon as I was discharged. I never got her correspondence, not until I was released from the P.O.W. camp. I was too sick to come then, after the war. They gave me all her letters. I read them over and over in the hospital.  I never knew about him . . . My God, he's the mirror image of her . . ."
            "No, he's the mirror image of you," I told Andrew`s father.

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 Tuesday Tales authors.


See you next week!






Sunday, March 13, 2016

Sunday Snippet





Howdy! 


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

For this week's snippet we get to meet Corbin Hancock, the older half of this romantic couple. This book is just flying along so it's going to be a bit jumpy at times and I apologize for any confusion that causes. Generally I write quickly, but this story is one of those that will not let me rest! And I am loving every minute of it.  In this snippet we get a good peek into Corbin's mindset, the people in his life, and how he's feeling about a certain young man named Dance.

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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           "No, Pauline, it is not okay. What you did is not acceptable in the least. Go change and cash in your tips."
            "Fuck you too." The saucy blonde threw her hair over her shoulder then flung the change in her apron on the bar. The coffee drinkers gave her a wary eyeball as I exchanged coins and ones for a twenty. Pauline then pulled her boyfriend out the door.
            "Jesus H. Christmas tree balls," Lem said after the irate woman had left. "I don't think I have ever been witness to a woman dousing Becky-Sue from the Recorder of Wills office with a scotch and water before."
            "At least Becky-Sue had the good graces not to get all het up with Corbin," Muzzy pointed out as my mother walked behind the bar topping off coffee mugs.
            "I'm sure him offering to pay to dry clean her suit put her to ease. I warned you about hiring that Pauline Prattle. She and her family been nothing but trouble since that youngest boy of theirs clumb up that pine tree and fell out on his head. What was his name, Gloria?" Cole asked and poured a dollop of half-and-half into his coffee.
            "Bertie," Mom replied without a moment's hesitation. "He married the Wilkes gal from over in Potter County. Her family ran that Black Angus farm for years until Pepper Wilkes got his arm caught in the hay tedder. I think the Carson's bought it after Pepper give up farming."
            "I remember Pepper. He liked to sip on whiskey then ride his old Massey Ferguson through the fields without a stitch on," Angus said making the others snicker into their cups.
            "As fascinating as all that information about Pepper Wilkes is, the fact is that we, once again, do not have anyone to wait tables at night," I told the giggly group at the bar. Mom frowned at my temper. My mother was the town marriage and child historian. If you wanted to know who wed whom, how many kids they had, and whom those kids married, just ring up Gloria Hancock.
            "No need to get snippy," Mom chided as she squeezed around me. "I'll come in tonight."
            "Mom," I called after her as she sailed into the kitchen. When she didn't stop I turned to the wall and introduced my head to it.
            "You keep that up and you'll bruise your brain again," Lem pointed out while I bounced my brow off the paneling. "Last time that happened your ma said you didn't recall how to piss standing up for near onto a week."
            Dear God, please find a way to make my mother stop passing along personal information to the patrons.
            I straightened and stopped abusing the wall with my head. "It was only for a couple days. The problem is that my mother will be hustling burgers all night again. She's retired now. She's supposed to be relaxing at home knitting me those awesome slippers."
            "They are some damn fine slippers," Angus said and the six of them all bobbed their ball caps in agreement.
            "Guys, you're missing the point." They fell into a conversation about how incredible Gloria's crocheted slippers were when worn inside hunting boots. I gave up and decided to wash some glasses now that lunch was over. What a fucking day this had been and it was only one in the afternoon. First, my ex-wife calls to bitch about our daughter and her lack of respect for her stepfather. As if I give two twinkling fucks about Bill the insurance salesman and his issues with my little angel. I hoped Lisa was giving it to the uptight cretin Dee had married with both barrels as only a ten year old girl can. Then my new server douses a worker from the courthouse. All because Betty-Lou asked Pauline's moronic boyfriend what time it was since her watch had stopped. I had to imagine the day couldn't get much worse.
            The front door opened, throwing a square of brilliant late August sun across my face. As I squinted into the blinding beam, I heard his voice.
            "Oh for fucks sake," I moaned when Dance ran into my pub shouting at the top of his lungs. I lifted my gaze from the hot soapy water to see the twit rush unto my stage and wave a handful of papers over his head.
            "I got a full roster, I got a full roster, I got a full roster," he chanted in that annoying singsong way eight years did when they were being asshats. The urge to chuck a mug at his stupid head was strong. I would have if not for the witnesses. And that fact that he looked damn cute shaking his firm ass as he crowed about his achievement. I'd never seen a kid who wore clothes with so much personality.




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