Monday, August 21, 2017

Tuesday Tales - Bike




It`s time for Tuesday Tales.



Today we have a snippet from the third Cayuga Cougars MM hockey romance book, Coach’s Challenge. In this excerpt, Vic has just returned home after a bit of a tiff with Dan.

Our word prompt today is “Bike”.

This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!





“I just want to hold you for now, okay?” I closed my eyes and breathed him in.

“God yeah, for sure. I was scared you went…somewhere other than the woods.”

“Like Lou’s Pub a few blocks over?”

“Maybe.”

“Thanks for the honesty. I thought about it,” I whispered over his jugular. I felt him stiffen a bit. “Thought real hard about it but I ended up sitting beside a puddle filled with rotting acorns and a dead toad. Which, you know, says a lot about where my head and life is right now.”

“Puddles are good places for thinking.” He pulled back a bit then reached up to swipe at something on my cheek. “Mud,” he said then showed me the smear of wet dirt on his thumb. Our gazes locked and I had to kiss him. I had to. I might have died if our lips hadn’t met. And holy fuck, that kiss. It was like locking lips with a nuclear reactor. Everything that Dan and me were was in that kiss. His lips parted and I slid in, sweeping hotly into his mouth, sucking on his fat lower lip, rolling my tongue over his until we were both mad with emotions we probably couldn’t explain if our lives depended on it.

We did make it to the bedroom – with only a slight stumble over a tiny bike - before we fell on each other like starving jackals. This is how it has always been with him and me. Match meet tinder. He didn’t seem to care that I was muddy or rumpled, or that I was the poster boy for mental problems, or that I touched him too roughly at times. 

“I need you inside me, Vic,” he groaned.




Copyright 2017 ©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.




Saturday, August 19, 2017

Book Spotlight - Reality Check (To Love a Wildcat #4)








#MF #IR #Hockey #Romance

 Amazon KU

The team owner/head coach relationship can be a tenuous one at times. Isabelle Lancourt can testify to just how stressful it can be. Ever since her husband passed away, leaving her his beloved Wildcats, she and Philip Moore have been at loggerheads. When the opportunity to sign a Russian hotshot presents itself, Isabelle leaps at the chance to prove herself as more than just a pretty face. 

Dealing with hot flashes, salary caps, and trade deadlines she can handle with ease. The aftermath of an ill-advised, but erotically superb, rendezvous in Siberia with the handsomely annoying Coach Moore? That was not in any Wildcats playbook. Can Isabelle and Philip handle the changes life is about to throw at them? Or will combining their personal and professional lives prove to be a misconduct penalty that the league simply cannot overlook?

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Open Net - Cayuga Cougars #2 - Release Day and Review Tour Stops







#mm #hockey #romance #erotic

Buy Links:




Blurb:

August Miles has the world on a string professionally.

Augie, as his friends and teammates call the unassuming young goaltender, is on the fast track to the pros. The starting goalie for the Cayuga Cougars, he has a year or two in Cayuga to hone his skills and all his career dreams will have come true. Pity his personal life isn’t riding the same high. He’s the only one among his group of friends without that special someone to call his own.

Until he meets Salvatore Castenada at a lakeside party. The attraction is white-hot and more than a little wonderfully overwhelming for the romantically inexperienced goalie. August quickly discovers that Sal is everything he’s dreamed of in a man: mature, settled, sinfully handsome, and filled with gentle humor. Sal is also HIV positive. 

Will Sal’s revelation about his status end this budding relationship before it can even begin? Or will the two men be able to handle the challenges life—and a championship run for the Cougars—throws at them?




R-Rated Excerpt:


Several days later, trying to be nonchalant about things, I stood outside his door, empty container in my hand, features schooled not to reflect how scared I was.
He looked shocked to see me on his doorstep. “Hey,” he said.
I held up the empty dish.
His gaze darted to the container, then back to me, a smile tugging at the corner of his sensual mouth. “Looking for a refill or something more?”
“Both.”
He stepped aside to let me enter. I paused just inside the front door, turning to look at him after he shut it.
“I’d like to have more,” I said, and held out the container like some sort of orphan in a musical.
“More what?” he asked, and I heard the uncertainty in his voice.
“More food and more you.”
“Are you sure, August?”
I nodded.
He gently took the container, his eyes locked with mine. “Are you one hundred percent sure? Maybe you should take more time. I’m not a prime dating candidate for you. I’m seropositive and I’m fifteen years older than you are. I can almost guarantee you that some of your friends are going to be against us seeing each other.”
“I don’t need more time and I don’t need friends who would be so judgmental. Yes, I’m one hundred percent sure. I’ve spent days reading, watching videos, and then reading more. I even talked with a medical professional. I know what I’m going to be facing—what we’re going to be facing.”
He tossed the container onto a small table at the end of the sofa. “We can never have unprotected sex. Ever. Not even once.”
“I know,” I said as want began pumping through my veins.
“If a condom breaks you could get infected.” He stared deep into my eyes.
“I know,” I replied. “I know all the bad things that can happen. I still want to date you.”
“No, you just think you know all the bad things, Aug. There’s so much you don’t know.” He sounded sad and weary.
“Then I’ll learn. Sal, I want to be with you, okay? I mean, if you don’t want to be with me, then that’s fine. I’ll just leave and you’ll never have to look at my dumb face ever—”
Sal stepped up to me without a word and pushed my back against the wall. A shocked grunt escaped me right before his mouth dropped over mine. He ran his tongue over the seam of my mouth. I let him in. He was powerful, possessive and hungry. His tongue slipped around mine as his hands found the edge of my shirt.
Breaking the kiss, he jerked my shirt upward, not caring that it caught under my chin. He just tugged harder to get the neckband free. Once the material popped free, he grabbed the shirt with both hands and held my arms over my head, the soft cotton keeping my hands off him.
“I should tell you to leave now, but I want you too bad to be noble,” he growled.

He captured my mouth again, this time letting his body lean in to me from chest to knees. My fingers slipped out of the T-shirt and I pushed them between his. Sal gyrated against me. His hard cock slid over mine. I sucked in a heated breath. He moaned, then began feasting on my neck, collarbone, and finally a nipple. He slipped his hands out of my grip and his palms, flat to my arms, slowly slithered downward.

Monday, August 14, 2017

Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt




It’s time for Tuesday Tales!



Welcome back! This week is our picture prompt week and all posts must be 300 words or under and reflect the chosen image. Today we have a snippet from Coach’s Challenge, Cayuga Cougars #3, which gives us a peek at Dad and son time with Victor and Jack.

Thanks so much for dropping by!




Jack and I slid down a small incline, surrounded by bushes and trees that carried red and yellow leaves already. Heavy rain early in the month had left a huge puddle that my son – hell any kid – simply couldn’t resist. He found a stick – naturally – and started poking at the water. I dropped my ass to a rock jutting out of the incline and watched him investigate the world. He was such a happy kid. Bouncy, smart, full of piss and vinegar. And not once had his mother belted him for acting up or told him he was an accident. I mean, yeah, he wasn’t a planned child but he was the fucking earth and stars to me. Dan was my moon.
            “Dad, a squirrel!” he called. I lifted my gaze from the ripples his stick had made on the puddle. “A squirrel!” Jack ran at the tree the gray squirrel was barking at us from.
            “Don’t run with that stick,” I reminded him. He did anyway.
            “Dad,” he called again, his round cheeks as red as his hair which needed cut. “I kiss that squirrel!”
            I glanced up into the canopy. “Sorry buddy, you can’t kiss that squirrel. He’s too far up in that tree. And in all honestly, kissing squirrels probably isn’t a good thing to do.”
            He stared up at the squirrel who was chattering up a storm, his plush tail flicking in irritation. Probably Mr. Squirrel was pissed about not being able to get to the acorns lying under Jack’s little sneakers.
            “Dad, you kiss that squirrel?” Jack asked, pointing into the swaying yellow leaves with his stick.
            “Nope, I don’t kiss squirrels.”
He turned from the tree and folded his arms over his chest. “You kiss girls?”
            “Sometimes,” I replied, leaning up to rest my elbows on the ratty holes in the denim covering my knees.
            “You kiss boys.” That wasn’t a question, it was as statement. I nodded. “Like Papa?”
            “Yep, I kiss Papa.”
            “But no squirrels?”
            “No squirrels.”



Copyright 2017 ©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.




Cover Reveal - Ellie Mack's Roxy Sings the Blues




Blurb:

Scars tell the story of a past. Roxy's scars aren't visible but they have carved her deeply and the pain they caused pours out through her music. If facing an uncertain future after losing her mother wasn't enough, a failed relationship from the past returns to wreak havoc. Just when she was trying to build a new life for herself, the troublemaking ex Devon drags her into danger. Roxy sits in the spotlight of a pivotal investigation. Detective Devon Miller is hot on the case and stirring the embers of forbidden fires. 
Will Roxy hit the right note to help her old flame solve the case in time or will she be left singing the blues?

To be Released September 14th


Buy Links:


Excerpts:

One phone call can change your life forever.

I’ve heard it said many times and I get it. If you are a ball player waiting for that call to the majors or if you are waiting for the call that you got that job you were hoping to land. I always thought however, that most people are just being overly dramatic and using that as a cliché’ statement.
What if you didn’t get this job, but instead got a call from a different company that ended up being a better job? What if, as a ball player you never get called to the majors but stayed in the minor leagues and ended up being a top-notch coach? What if that call was the worst thing that could happen?
It’s always been my view that there are multiple paths that our lives could take. There are numerous opportunities presented to us and that one phone call bit was a bunch of hogwash.
Until today.
Until I received the phone call that without a doubt, changed my life forever.

**~**

“Detective Miller, Detective Alvarez.”
Devon Miller nodded in acknowledgement. He hated these calls. He hated seeing veterans in the homeless shelter. It never made sense to him. “What have we got?”
“Two males. Looks like meth heads, but we need to find out what is going on. This is the fourth time this month that homeless guys have shown up dead. I am putting you two on the case. Check with Dickerson in narcotics, see if he has any leads.” Seargent Brenner stood, flipping the body bag back over the victim’s face. “I want to know what they are taking, who they are buying from, what the cause of death was. I want a full tox screen and have Simmons report anything out of the order. Anything! Talk to some of the regulars at the shelter up the street.” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket, eyes downcast to the ground. Hesitating as if he wanted to add something more, but then changing his mind. He added, “I want reports on my desk in the morning.”
Devon watched him walk away before bending to examine the body. He reached for a discarded straw in the pile of trash that the first body lay in. Using the straw, he opened the vics mouth, checking for missing teeth, foaming, anything. “Still got his teeth. That’s something.”
Alvarez stood with his hands shoved into his jacket. “This kid is too young to be here.”  He bent swiping the hair out of the eyes of the second body. “Both of them are. I’d lay odds that test results are going to be the same as the last guys. I think our best bet is going to be Dickerson. See if he knows who’s dealing the designer drugs down here and find out how bums can afford it.”

**~**




Author Bio:


Ellie Mack received her BS in cartography from Southeast Missouri State University. Since leaving the corporate world for the title of MOM, she has pursued her writing dreams. Nowadays Ellie charts unmapped territory through her fiction and humor writing. Formerly a columnist for a local paper, her weekly column received a lot of attention. She lives near St. Louis, MO with her husband of 32 years and their college aged daughters. When she’s not writing she can be found bullet journaling, crocheting, or cooking.

You can find her musings on her blog: https://quotidiandose.wordpress.com



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Monday, August 7, 2017

Tuesday Tales - Business




It`s time for Tuesday Tales.



Today we have a snippet from the third Cayuga Cougars MM hockey romance book, Coach’s Challenge. In this excerpt, we get a wee peek at how married life is treating Victor Kalinksi and Dan Arou.

Our word prompt today is “Business”.

This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!




“You rock my world,” I confessed then nibbled a path from his lips to his neck. We tussled around a bit, tasting each other, touching while cooling down, whispering secret things that lovers do. I lay there in our bed, enjoying the way his chest rose and fell, and how each breath lifted my head. I dropped a kiss to his stomach, and laid my hand over his navel. My wedding band caught the light. “I can’t believe that you’re still married to me.”
“Me either,” he replied then chuckled, his belly rippling with laughter. Smiling to myself, I nipped at his stomach, getting a sharp hiss from the man who held my heart. Dan carded his fingers through my hair, the hazy tender moment making me feel sluggish and loved. So damn loved. Marriage rocked. I had the hottest man ever created from clay – if you back that particular creation story business – in my bed every night. “You know what day it is?”
“Mpfh.” Sleep was tiptoeing up my spine.
“It’s Thursday,” he said, his fingers still gliding through my hair, making it harder for me to keep my eyes open.
“Thursday night fucks are the best,” I replied, burrowed my face into his tight abs, and began to drift off.
“Thursday is trash night.” Soon as the words left his mouth, I knew what he was getting at. I pretended to be asleep. Fucker wasn’t falling for it. He pushed me off his tacky chest. I flopped to my back like a dead carp. “Go put out the trash.”
  “Are you kidding me with this shit now?”






Copyright 2017 ©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.





Friday, August 4, 2017

Book Spotlight - Playmaker




#FF #hockey #romance

Buy Links:






Blurb:

Secrets. Sometimes keeping them in confidence is a good thing. Other times secrets can slowly allow a woman’s soul to rot. Whitney Beaupré has been hiding a big secret for years, one that’s beginning to wear her down both on and off the ice. Pretending to be something she’s not is exhausting. Wanting to be free but afraid to break out of her prison is terrifying. Seeking love but then hiding from it is crushing to the spirit, yet Whitney feels compelled to keep living the lie.

Until the night Hannah Kym appears in her life. Whitney’s attraction to Hannah is deep, fierce, and instantaneous. The Temple art major is everything Whitney has dreamed of and more. But those old fears keep clawing at the Venom center, keeping her locked in the closet despite the passion and affection she feels for Hannah. Can love finally break the shackles holding Whitney’s heart and soul captive?

Excerpt:

My cosmopolitan arrived. I handed the server a twenty and continued to sit in the shadows, enjoying the dancers and my cocktail. Everyone seemed to be paired up already. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe I should just finish my drink and go home before someone recognized me as a Venom player and—

“Did anyone ever tell you that you have an amazing brow?” A small Asian woman sat down across from me, startling me out of my ruminations. She was adorable, I saw that right off. Her face was round, her hair short and dyed aquamarine. Her mouth was drawn into a studious pucker. She shoved her hand across the table. “Also, your mouth is perfectly aligned with your nose. Hannah Kym.”

“Thanks.” I muttered and shook her hand.

She smiled, and it lit up the club. “Would you consider posing for me sometime?” The music died off and applause broke out for the DJs choice. I cocked an eyebrow. Hannah Kym snickered as a white strobe light moved over our tiny table. When she smiled, her apple cheeks nearly obscured her beautiful brown eyes. It was beyond cute. She was beyond cute. “Okay, I know that sounds like some lame come-on that a guy would hit you with. I’m really an art student. I’m in my junior year at Temple, and I’d love to paint you some time. You have this amazing face. Sensual, sad, sophisticated, sullen.”

“Suspicious.” I tacked on. Another song, this one I didn’t know, kicked to life.

“Here, let me find my student ID.” She stood up and began pawing around in the various pockets of her baggy jeans and sweater, then finally in the overstuffed tote dangling off her shoulder. She pulled out a card on a lanyard and bounced around in circles to celebrate, her arms up over her head. The motion pulled her short sweater up and exposed her stomach. Her tummy was soft, not the hard and toned abs I was used to seeing in the dressing room. Her rump and hips were rounded and lush, and her breasts were small. Men would probably stick their noses up at her curves and tiny tits but I thought she was perfectly proportioned. “There. Total proof that I am indeed one Hannah Kym, starving college student slash artist striving for my BFA.”

 I took the ID card and glanced at it. Hannah plopped down across from me, rested her elbows on the table, placed her chin on her hands, and stared at me. The ID card showed a younger Hannah and the red plastic card was clearly a Temple University ID badge. I’d seen Greg Blue Blanket’s a few times.

“I know one of your professors,” I said as I returned the ID card to her. Hannah continued to appraise me. “Greg Blue Blanket?”

“That man is awesome! And so visually stunning. Kind of like you.” I blinked at Hannah, dumbfounded. Our server appeared and asked Hannah if she’d like something. “Oh hey, yeah, how about a rum and Coke?” I handed my empty glass to the waitress and tapped it to signal I’d like a refill. “So, what’s your name and when can I put you on canvas?” She winked impishly.

My body reacted with a flash of heat that made my breasts tingle. “Why would you want to paint me? I’m far from model perfect,” I shouted over the thumping of the current song.

 “That’s what makes you desirable,” she yelled, frowned, and then moved over to sit right beside me. Her perfume was fruity. It fit her. “I love women who are confident in themselves. Take that chick over there, totally refurbished from head to toe. When you strip her down, what you get is not at all what you see.”

I looked behind Hannah to see a tall brunette who should be a centerfold in some magazine for straight dudes. She certainly had enough female admirers fawning over her.

“She’s beautiful,” I replied, to which Hannah wrinkled her flat little nose in disgust.

“She’s a fake. You, on the other hand, are perfect in your imperfections. The sharp cut of your jaw, the gap in your teeth combined with the lushness of your lashes and the heavy sway of your big breasts is true feminine beauty.”

“Are you sure you’re not a poetry major?” Hannah laughed, her hand coming to rest on my thigh. A hot curling of desire ignited between my thighs.


“It might be my minor.”