Saturday, May 20, 2017

Tuesday Tales Bookstore

The authors of Tuesday Tales are kicking off a new and exciting monthly feature. We'll be sharing cover art, buy links, and an excerpt from books that came to life in Tuesday Tales. This month I'll be highlighting the third in my M/F To Love a Wildcat series, O Captain! My Captain! in the TT bookstore. 

Make sure you go back to the main blog to look over the other wonderful books written by the  talented Tuesday Tales authors. 


Free with Kindle Unlimited or $3.99 without KU subscription  

“Oh yah, you telling that little girl to tell me,” he recalled, waving a hand the size of a hubcap from me to him and back again. “You think that’s a grown-up, womanly way to handle it?”

 “Maybe not, but at least I made the effort!” I shot back, losing my train of thought as I stared into his eyes. They had small flecks of gold amid the jade. 

“Oh yah, yah, yah. You made the effort! That was some piss poor effort,” he huffed. “It’s a good thing that I didn’t really think you was all that sexy to begin with.”

 That stung a lot more than I wanted to admit. “Oh yeah? Well, I didn’t think you were all that sexy either with your face hair and crazy Scandinavian Rose Nylund manner of talking!”

We stared at each other for the longest moment of my life. And then some bizarre need to kiss each other grabbed us both and threw us into each other. My back hit the wall of the elevator. Derrick’s arms were wrapped around me like twin bands of steel. His mouth was moving over mine, seeking and tasting. I shoved my fingers into his hair to pull him down to a less neck-wrenching level, then I gave him the access he had been searching for. 


Friday, May 19, 2017

You're My Best Friend...Sometimes

I have a great affection for secondary characters. They’re a vitally important part of my books, some even going on to have their own books because they’re so popular. *hugs Mario McGarrity* I take great care when making those best friends or roommates that interact with my guys and gals. Is there anything better than a great friend, a wacky roommate, or one of those eccentric goalies?

Secondary characters many times become the voice of reason to our protagonist. They help calm our hero down, pick them up, cheer them on, and sometimes point out the errors of their ways. Those supporting characters keep our hero from being too perfect. They keep them grounded and relatable while sometimes providing help in solving conflict. Just like in real life, our buddies give us a hand when we need it the most.

But, on the other hand, not all secondary characters are friendly. Some are real jerks who push and prod our hero into action, create plot twists, or add drama or upheaval to the story.

In First Season, Harrisburg Railers #2, the book I’m currently coauthoring with the delightful Rj Scott, I have a secondary character who’s a very important part of one of the leading man’s life. I have plans for this supporting character to be the one person that Adler can turn to when faced with the crazy and wild emotions he’ll be feeling about Layton. Hopefully, Apollo will be able to give his best friend some good advice, and if the advice fails, he can boot Ad in the ass when needed.

Who are some of your favorite supporting characters? I’d love to hear about them – and how you feel about secondary characters – in the comments below.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt

Welcome back!

This week is our picture prompt week and all posts must be 300 words or under and reflect the chosen image. In this final snippet from An Erie Uprising, we get a small glimpse of things after the first night of the battle the shifters and their allies have waged against the Elder Counsel.

Thanks so much for dropping by!

Several of the old folks spit on their fingers and made circles to ward off the vampires. That made me think of Rugby and the staff. They had done the same with the merfolk until they grew to know them. There was so much distrust among our kind. Suspicion and fear just for being different. Seems even those in our shifter community had biases. Odd that. Perhaps we all could stand to learn to be more accepting.

“Right, well, you heard my friend Vincente, the Elders remain. Since we don’t know how that fight will go, we need to find hiding places. Pick somewhere that you can wiggle into comfortably. It might be a long wait until it’s safe to come out.”

They broke off and wandered away among the rock formations. I snuck off to strip and shift. Penelope and the old mink – I’d not gotten her name – waited for me. Little Miss Fennec had shifted as well. The first slim beams of sunlight danced on her red fur. My, but foxes were beautiful creatures. Penelope and Mama Mink joined me in searching among the crags and crevasses. We located a nicely sized crack in the rocks that ran far back into the stone. The ladies wiggled in first then I joined them, blocking off the opening with my body. If anyone reached in they’d get a damn good bite. And woe to the fool who pulled me out. I was now all about the spraying first and asking questions later.

The three of us nuzzled and wriggled close, sharing our body heat. I managed to sleep but it was a fitful rest. Every little sound caused me to jerk awake, sniff the air, and squint out into the brilliant fall sunshine warming the rocks. It was during a short period of deep sleep that I was ripped out of the toasty little nook by my tail. That was the wrong end of a terrified skunk to be yanking on, I can tell you that. Whoever had this polecat by the tail was going to regret it.

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, May 12, 2017

Why Would You Write a Character Like THAT!?

Last Sunday I did a radio interview and had an amazing time answering questions from readers and friends. There were so many questions that I didn’t really have time to answer them as well as I would have liked. I thought I’d tackle a few here on the blog and get a bit more in-depth. So, we’ll start with one that was asked by Rachel. She said that Victor Kalinski was a marmite character – which for those like me who may not have never heard the term before means he’s either loved or loathed – and did I set out to write him that way?

You bet I did! Victor wasn’t my first “Love them or Hate them” type of character, though. The first one of those was Viviana Land, the leading lady in Pink Pucks & Power Plays, book #1 in the To Love a Wildcat series. Viv is a bit self-serving to say the least. She’s brash, stubborn, and a bit selfish. Did I mean for her to be that way? Yep! I love a character that you have to dig into to see the good because in real life not everyone is sweet as butter almond cookies. 

People are complex. Some are nice, some not. Viviana and Victor are a couple of complex characters who don’t make loving them easy at first. Thank goodness Dan and Alain took the time to get to know the good person under the hurt and fear.

You have to peel away layers to get to know the real Viv and Vic. They don’t make liking them easy. They’ll use humor or insults to keep people at bay to keep their hearts safe. And I think that makes them far more interesting than bland, old, vanilla Mary-Jane Goody-Two-Shoes or Tad Heartthrob. The fastest way to put me off a book is to have the protagonist be too sweet and innocent. I like gritty characters filled with flaws that hide a good heart buried deep, deep down. Characters like Victor and Viviana.

And yes, I have gotten plenty of bad reviews because of how Victor and Viv act. I won't apologize for them because they are who they are. Also, if Vic heard me apologizing for him being him he'd boot me in the backside! 

What about you? Do you like a deeply flawed protagonist? Or do you prefer they be squeaky clean and pure as the driven snow? Let me know down in the comments.

Point Shot Trilogy

                                                  Pink Pucks & Power Plays

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Blue Line Collection #1 Cover Reveal!

Add to Goodreads: Blue Line Collection #1

Four must read rereleased M/M erotic hockey romance stories in one reasonably priced collection coming in June!

There’s no sport quite like ice hockey. The speed, the action, the physicality, the blood, and the rabid fans. Add in sizzling hot M/M romance and you’ve got the setting for some amazing romance tales! In the four stories contained in this collection, you’ll experience the ups-and-downs of finding that one true love through the eyes of four different men, ranging in age and experience, from collegiate players to the pros.

Readers should be over 18 due to mature language and gay sexual situations. The set includes:

Crashing the Crease
Long Change
Shutdown Pair
Heir Apparent

Monday, May 8, 2017

Tuesday Tales - Mother

It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

 Welcome back! “Mother” is our word this week. Today I’m sharing snippets from my new M/M shifter romance, An Erie Uprising, which will be the final novella in the Lake Erie shifter series.

In this excerpt, Templeton is fleeing the scene of a rebellion bomb that has just destroyed the OTTER (Office for Transmogrification Registration) building where he worked. He’s desperate to get back to Lupei Manor and check on his parents and Mikel, as well as the others who call the manse home.

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 curled into a ball, stuffing my nose under my tail, and tried to keep my brain active. It was a short ride, and thankfully so, for as scattered and shaken as I was, I’d been having trouble focusing on staying awake. When the truck bounded and bounced in and out of a pot hole, I squeezed myself back between the kegs a bit more and waited. The door on the rear opened and light flooded the back. I grimaced at the sunshine. The driver was whistling. I hunkered down, belly flat to the icy cold flooring. The keg I was hiding behind moved. I arched my back and stamped my feet. The driver took one look at me and dove out of the back of the delivery truck cussing like a sailor.

Long nails scrabbling for purchase, I hustled my fuzzy ass out of that truck, hit the ground with a ‘Fwump!’ and then took off in the direction of home. Running down the road I warmed up, my thoughts got a bit clearer, and my worry grew heavier. Once I smelled familiar land – and the heavy scent of wolf – I left the roadway and used the rocky shore of Lady Erie to guide me back to Lupei Manor.

The looming mansion was shrouded in fog as a cool front rolled over the still warm water. I paid no heed to the mist or the gargoyles sitting so high above. I hit the doors at a dead run, leaping and scratching, chattering wildly, trying to get someone’s attention. After a moment, it came to me that I could shift and turn the damn door knob, which I did. Eru was standing on the steps running a feather duster along the hand-carved balustrade when I ran inside, panting madly, my backside bared to her gaze. As was my frontside. She screamed and shoved her pointed face into the feather duster. I cupped my genitals and bellowed for Rugby. As soon as I saw him rushing down the stairs, I spoke to him.

“Find me some pants – and some brandy - and then meet me in the library,” I said while backing away from the tiny girl with her face firmly buried in ostrich feathers. Rugby took Eru by the elbow and led her back to the second floor. I turned tail and bolted to the library to wait for my trousers and my loved ones to arrive. Loved ones! By Fenris, my parents! What had become of them? I dove for the old black phone sitting on a petite little side table just outside the library. The dampness of the keep was creeping through my bare feet and up the back of my thighs. Lifting the handset from the cradle, I spun the dial several times and bounced from one foot to the other.

When my mother answered I nearly wept. “Mom, are you safe?”

“Templeton! Oh, thank the Elders!” I grimaced at the old saying. “Your father has been calling your mobile phone ever since the news about the offices came over the radio.”

“I’m fine. Just a little shaken. Mom, I want you and dad to throw some clothes into a bag. I’m going to send Rugby to fetch you and get you on a plane.”

“Templeton what happened at the OTTER office? Mikel? Is he safe? They’re saying it was a rebel bomb. Do you know anything about that? Why? Why do people have to blow things up? Why can’t they just all get along?”

“Because change always comes with loss, Mom. Please, get some clothes packed. Rugby will come get you and take you to the airport in Erie. Fly down to Texas and visit Cousin Felicity.”

“But Templeton, those hog-nosed skunks are always so uppity.”

“Mom,” I had to inhale to calm myself. “Just go to Texas. I’ll pay. I need to know that you’re safe.”

“Okay, Templeton, we’ll go visit Felicity. Promise me you’ll stay far away from all this uprising stuff.”

“I’ll do what I can about the uprising, Mom.” She sighed so I assumed that she’d been placated. “Now go pack. Rugby will be there in thirty minutes.”

“Call me when this unpleasantness is over.”

“I will, I promise. Give Dad a hug for me. I love you.” I gently replaced the handset into the cradle. The major domo stepped out of the shadows to my right, clothing draped over his arm. I never flinched. I guess once one has had a bomb go off twenty feet from him, an elderly Elven halfling appearing out of nowhere loses its shock value.

“You heard my conversation with my mother?” I asked while shaking out then stepping into a clean pair of dark blue khakis. He handed me my spare spectacles which I quickly slid on.

“Yes, Master Reed. I’ve already made the reservations for the flight to Corpus Christie and used Master Lupei’s black American Express.”

“Good man.” I pulled an old sweater over my head. “Get my parents on that plane. I’m entrusting you with their care.”

“I shall deliver them safely onto the airplane. Master Reed?” My head popped out of the sweater’s stretched neck. “Is it true that a bomb detonated in town?”

“Yes. Yes, it’s true.” I touched the scab on my cheek. “Things will never be the same for any of us here in the manor. Now go. I’ll go rouse the rest. May the Elders… I mean may the gods of the North watch over you.”

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.