Monday, September 18, 2017

Tuesday Tales - Crush




It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

Today we have a snippet from a new MM May-December hockey romance book, Lost in Indigo. In this excerpt, we have a small bit from the prologue of the book that sets up how Mathieu Beresford, captain of the Buffalo Surge, suffers a possible career ending injury.

Our word prompt today is “Crush”.

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!



“And the puck squibs free and goes behind the net. Beresford is on it like a dog on a pork chop.”

“I think that dog comparison is a good one, Drew. You can see how hungry the Surge captain is.”

“Beresford has some trouble corralling that puck. Looks like it’s on edge. And Heckerman is coming in hard. Got to love seeing two big defensemen on a collision course!”

“Yes, you sure do, Drew. Keep in mind that Beresford is probably looking at one of his last chances to win it all so he’s going to be one ravenous canine. The man is thirty-eight years old although he plays with the passion of a man half his age. He said once in an interview that I did with him back at the beginning of his long and illustrious career – Ouch! Holy blindsided! Heckerman came up behind Beresford and knocked the stuffing out of him!”

“I’m not sure if that wasn’t an illegal hit but there was no call on the ice and Heckerman takes the puck down to the – Oh boy, Andy, Beresford is having trouble getting up.”

“I see that. He seems to be in a lot of pain. That’s not good news for the Surge and their coach, Wally Tombs.”

“Let’s pull up the replay to see if that was a missed call. Looked to me like Heckerman’s skates may have left the ice but – wow, Beresford just tried to stand and went right back down. Come on, Mat, get up. This isn’t good, Andy.”

“No, no it isn’t. And now we have the whistle after that soft shot on the Surge goalie.”

“Oh, my God, you hate to see this. He did try to get up but collapsed back to the ice. That’s grit right there, Andy. That’s why he’s been such a force in the league. What mettle. You don’t teach that. This is why hockey is a man’s game. You get hurt you get up and continue your shift. Backbone. Look the word up you young players.”

“Okay, we have the replay here. We’ll give this a look as the Surge physician now begins to attend to Beresford.”

“Ah, okay, Heckerman’s skates didn’t leave the ice. It appears to me that Beresford may have lost an edge right before the moment of contact. What do you think, Andy?”

“I think you’re right. And then the contact with the boards. Oh. Oh, that is not good. Did you see the way that leg bent, Drew? Now we’ll have to hope and pray that whatever damage was done to the left leg is something that will heal quickly. Maybe a day or two of rest. This Surge team is going to be crippled without their captain on the ice.”

“Did you see Heckerman go over a second ago to check on Beresford? Looks like they’re calling for the stretcher. Oh dear. That’s not good. The Surge are going to be crushed to lose this man who has lead them to the finals. Pluck and determination, that’s always been how I’ve described Mathieu Beresford. Let’s look at the replay again...”

I’d watched that replay a hundred times over the past two weeks. I knew the words the play-by-play and color man said by heart. The pain in my leg was equal to the pain in my heart. Greedy pain it was. Greedy, envious, shallow pain. I was a bitter man. Sick to the core of my being over losing a chance to raise the Cup over my head, bring it home, and participate in the long-awaited victory parade. I’d missed it all. Twenty years in the league working for that moment and I’d missed 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.





Saturday, September 16, 2017

Saturday Story Spotlight - Changing Lines (Harrisburg Railers #1) Coauthored with RJ Scott







#MM #Hockey #Romance


Blurb:

Tennant ‘Ten’ Rowe is one-third of the famous “Rowe Brothers”, a trio of siblings who have all found themselves enjoying great success in professional hockey. Ten is the youngest of the three and has lived in the shadow of his older brothers for years. After a trade moves him from Dallas to Harrisburg, he runs into Jared Madsen, an old friend and one-time teammate of his eldest brother. It’s been years since Tennant has seen Jared, and plenty has changed. Like the fact that Tennant is now a man and Jared just might be the sexiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

Jared Madsen’s hockey career is cut short when a terrible accident on ice reveals hidden medical issues that even he can’t defeat. Taking a coaching position with the Harrisburg Railers keeps him close to his beloved hockey. But, when Tennant Rowe is traded into the team, Jared’s entire organized world is thrown into chaos. Nine years his younger, and the brother of his best friend, Jared knows Ten is off limits, even if he is gorgeous and ticks every one of Jared’s boxes.


 NSFW Excerpt:

Slow sucked. Seriously, it was the worst. Obviously my slow and Mads’ slow were worlds apart. His slow consisted of nothing but touching here and there, long looks, and secret smiles. My slow would have had us at least into some slippery-hot, ball-slapping sex. I spent more time jacking off in the shower now than before he’d said we were going to see where we went. If we didn’t get some physical shit going soon, I’d be in the padded room at the nearest mental hospital.

Maybe not getting laid—or even kissed—was good for my game, though. Back in the day, the old coaches had thought so. I was playing like a fucking demon, crushing anyone in my path, and sadly that included Connor, the good guy. Nothing personal, but he stood between me and that first line center position. I’d blasted his doors off during the preseason and now, with the last preseason game against Carolina under our belts, all that remained was for Benning to make his final cuts and decide on the starting line-up. If that SOB didn’t put me on the first line, I’d—

“More balls.”

Stan’s deep voice jerked me harshly from my angry daydreams. There were ten of us gathered in my hotel room. A late season tropical depression had blown into North Carolina. Traveling had been called off until the swirling storm moved on overnight, so here the Railers sat, playing Pok√©mon Evolutions and dreaming about getting on the line they wanted or getting laid. I downed another can of Mountain Dew Code Red. It was my fourth. I felt like I could scale the walls like Spider-Man.

“Ten, you into this?” Addison inquired. He’d joined the training group last week and was kicking all sorts of ass. “You seem spacey.”

I tossed my training cards onto the table and stood up. “Too much Dew. I’m wired.”

The guys chuckled and play continued without me.

I paced the room like a puma in a cage. “I’m going to see if I can walk this off. Stan, you take my balls.”

“Groovy, man!” the big Russian said, then swept my cards from the table.

The laughter faded as I closed the door behind me. Starting that group had been a good idea. I’d grown much closer to several of the guys since we’d started playing. Pity we couldn’t lure any of the older players in.

I started off walking the hallway. That didn’t burn off the soda fast enough, so I jogged up and down the hotel corridor. When I’d done four laps, I was slightly winded but still cranked. I did what any man who was hard up and running on four cans of red Dew would do. I rode up to the fourth floor, where the coaches were rooming, and pounded on the door of the hottest defensive coach in the eastern division.

Mads opened the door in nothing but dress slacks and an unbuttoned dress shirt. I’d at least changed into some jeans and my favorite Doctor Who “Bowties are Cool!” T-shirt after we’d gotten back to the hotel. Not that I was complaining, because he fucking rocked his half-dressed look.

“Hey, Tennant, what’s up?”

He looked shocked and more than a little guarded. Did I send off perv vibes or something? Was I drooling? Shit, he looked so good…

“I wanted to talk to you about… uh, about how the defense is playing in the neutral zone and its impact on the forwards.” There, that sounded official in case anyone might be eavesdropping.

He eyed me warily like I was something dangerous that had come rapping on his door. A lust demon or a succubus. Could dudes be succubi?

“Come in,” he said, then stepped back to allow me to enter.

His room looked just like mine. Basic hotel tan, blue, and white. It smelled of him. His cologne and his unique scent.

“I was just diagramming some plays for the defense. I’d be happy to have your input on them, since there seems to be a problem with—”

I pounced on him. Hungry and desperate, I lunged at him, clapping my hands to the sides of his head. A sound of surprise escaped him before I covered his mouth with mine. I felt him stiffen, like he was going to push me away. Nope. We were not doing that shit now. I lapped at the seam of his mouth, then at the corners. He opened for me and I dove in, starving now for the taste of him. His mouth was wet and hot and tasted of coffee. Mads grunted. The sound amped up my desire even more. I suckled on his tongue until I got the reaction I wanted. When I did—his arms going around my waist—I released his head and grabbed his ass. Frantic for his touch, I rubbed against him, shoving my erection into his stomach. The man groaned again in reply. I made a move to palm his dick.

“My God, you’re like a chipmunk pumped full of Red Bull.” Mads chuckled breathlessly, trying to pry my hands from his crotch and ass.

“I know, I’m sorry.” My hands moved over him, desperate for all the touching they could get. “It’s just… I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks. You and I…doing this, touching, kissing, getting into your bed. I’m wired and grabby. I need more than just a smile during scrimmages, Mads.”

“I understand the need.” He held my wrists, then pressed several kisses to my mouth. “I’ve wanted this too, but we’re taking this slow, remember?”

“Why slow? I’m ready now.”

Since he had my hands, I simply leaned in to lick at his mouth. He steered me toward the bed, fingers around my wrists, kissing me with warm passion in return. His attitude to this whole sex thing was languid and lazy. It was making me insane.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked, then shoved me into a seated position on the edge of the bed.

I gave him my dirtiest look, then reached for his belt buckle.

He patiently removed my fingers from his belt. “I’d like a little more to go on than that glare.”

“Ugh, yes. I’ve sucked dick before.”

“Have you ever had a man inside you?”

A rumble of want rippled through me. Instead of going for his dick, because he was suddenly all Mr. Chastity about it, I opened his dress shirt a little wider, baring a wide swath of hairy chest and tight abdomen. My cock throbbed in time with my pulse. I pressed a kiss to his stomach, then one to his chest, my thumbs dangling off his belt. Soft, deep noises rolled out of him each time I placed my lips to his skin.

“Tennant, have you ever had a man inside you before?”

“Once,” I replied, licking around the edge of his navel.




Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Cover Reveal & Preorder Links for COTF - The Second Period




I'm so excited and honored to once again be taking part in the Changing on the Fly charity anthology of MM hockey romances. Last year we raised over $3000 for our charity and we're hoping we can do the same if not better this year!

I hope you'll consider picking up a copy. 100% of proceeds go to a charity that promotes inclusiveness in sports. The cover art, editing, formatting, stories, and blitz tour have all been donated so huge thanks to Jen Needles for her cover art, Rebecca Cartee for editing services, Mary Smith for formatting, and Rachel Maybury for the reveal blitz. And of course a huge hug of thanks to the wonderful authors who are taking part - Jeff Adams, Heather Lire, and Rj Scott.

You can preorder your copy now. Release date is 10/4!


And now for the cover and story blurbs for Changing on the Fly: The Second Period! 






Buy Links: (More Sites to Come)







Blurb:

Changing on the Fly is a celebration of romance, featuring four M/M stories about hockey players falling in love on – and off – the ice. All proceeds from the anthology will be donated to a charity that supports inclusiveness in athletics.

The anthology will be available starting in October 4, 2017, for a limited time only.

It includes the following stories:


Head in the Game by Jeff Adams
Second Chance at Love by Heather Lire
Rookie Moves by V.L. Locey
Secrets by Rj Scott

Story Blurbs:
Jeff Adams’ – Head in the Game
After a disastrous breakup, pro hockey defenseman Roger Jacobson’s game is slipping. With his contract up for renewal, he has to do something quick because his fourteen-year career is on the line. Roger returns to his hometown to work with his old coach, helping run the summer hockey camp. But Dylan Barker, a handsome graduate student and the coach’s son, proves to be a romantic distraction that Roger couldn’t have anticipated.

Can Roger’s trip home fix his game and mend his broken spirit?


Heather Lire’s Second Chance at Love
Growing up in Holiday, Vermont Zach and Tony were best friends. After high school, they drifted apart as their lives and careers took them in different directions. When they run into each other on vacation they fall back into the easy friendship they’d had as kids.
The one thing they didn’t expect was the sexual tension between them. As they explore these new feelings for each other they discover that sometimes the last person they expected fall for is their Second Chance at Love.

V.L. Locey’s Rookie Moves
It’s been three months since New York Nightwings superstar center and captain, Riley Zeally, came out. The glare of the media has been incredibly bright but Riley’s used to dealing with the spotlight. His boyfriend, Keiffer, isn’t. The intense scrutiny of being at the side of such a huge sports star is proving to be incredibly stressful for the one-time hustler.
Details about his former life on the streets is now common knowledge, his life with Riley is under a magnifying glass, and his past is about to step out of the shadows in an even bigger way. Can a rookie in the ways of the press and professional athletics survive the pressure of sharing his life with the league’s most famous gay player? Will the tentative new love Riley and Keiffer share fold under the weight of fans and fame?

Rj Scott’s Secrets
Benji is the skater in the league who brings down the height average. Coming in at five eight, he's used to players chirping at him all night about his height. Including the sexy defenseman for the Carlisle Rush, Avery Lester, with his stunning eyes and his cute smile.

When Benji makes a single inappropriate comment about Avery's ass, everything goes to hell. Add in Avery’s heroics during a hate crime, and things just go from bad to worse.
 Abruptly it's not his height Benji has to worry about, but the chance that his closely guarded secret is shared all over the Internet.

Can love find a way, or will keeping secrets tear Benji and Avery apart?





Monday, September 11, 2017

Saturday, September 9, 2017

Saturday Story Spotlight - Holly & Hockey Boots






#MM #Holiday #Hockey #Romance


Minor league goalie Adam Seiger is a nice guy. He’s kind, cute, and a little quirky (but show me a goalie who isn’t) and he loves to interact with fans. During a meet and greet after a game Adam meets Cason Reyes, a hard-working young man with stunning amber eyes and a smile as sweet as a candy cane. Desperate to see Cason again, Adam does something more than a little naughty.

To add insult to the egg nog, it appears that one little white lie may end Adam’s chance of having a merry Christmas with a new boyfriend. Will he end up with nothing but a lump of coal in his stocking, instead of the man who owns his heart?




Buy Links:


Excerpt:

“So tell me about Adam Seiger, the first gay black goalie I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating spiedies with.”

            I smiled around the mouthful of awesomeness. “Not much to tell,” I said after I swallowed roughly. “I grew up in Toronto, played lots of hockey, and was taken in by my aunt and uncle when my parents were killed in a motorcycle accident.”

            “Ouch,” he murmured after dipping a fry into a glob of ketchup on his plate. “That must have been rough on you. How old were you when they died?”

            “Four, so I don’t really remember too much about them. My aunt and uncle were the best, really.” I looked up from my food to find Cason staring at me. “Do I have food on my face?”

            “No, no, you’re just,” he paused with a fry hovering in front of his face, “you’re probably the best looking man I’ve seen in this city for years. I guess I’m kind of stunned to find myself sitting here, on a date, with such a sexy jock.” I had to avert my sight, just until I could get the surge of embarrassment and white-hot lust under control. “See, that there—that is so hot. I love that about hockey players. They’re always so damn humble.”

            “So yeah, enough about me or my face will combust,” I said, and Cason chuckled then shoved his fry into his mouth. “How did a kid with a dad from Argentina get into hockey? I’d think you’d be a soccer fan.”

            “Oh, I am, but winter in Binghamton means hockey, so I go to the games when I can afford it. I like the speed of hockey, and the violence. Also, the goalies are really cute.”

            I coughed and ducked my head. “You’re doing it again.” Cason laughed and I felt the rib pit tip dangerously to the right. Making him laugh again now seemed like the most important thing ever. “Do you always talk up your dates this way?”

            “Only if I’m dreaming about a kiss at the end of the date,” he confessed, but I saw a shade of pink settle into his smooth cheeks. Seemed he was a bit of a blusher as well. That was good to know.

            “Yeah, that dream is pretty sure to be fulfilled if you keep talking like that.”







Friday, September 8, 2017

MM Goodness Book Review - The Altered by Annabelle Jacobs







Amazon

*~~*


What a wonderful read! I've been hankering for an MM paranormal romance for some time, and was thrilled when a friend directed me to this one. Ms. Jacobs does a fantastic job of world building and introducing us to her wolf shifters aka altereds. 

The story line was brisk, the plot tight, the dialog snappy, and the leading men instantly appealing. It's a nice sensual read with hot bedroom scenes and tenderness throughout. I'll be grabbing the next two in the series as I'm quite interested in finding out about some of the secondary characters we met in this first book.

For those who like a little bite with their romance, this one comes highly recommended. 


Monday, September 4, 2017

Tuesday Tales - Bone




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, Victor gets to show some of his straight forward coaching technique.

Our word prompt today is “Bone”.

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!





The Cougars had won four out of five games which kept us sitting atop our division, but just barely. And the just barely also applied to the wins. Skin of our teeth fits our play well of late. Sure, we were winning, but just. The team was sloppy after getting a lead, which we normally did quickly. Dewey, and the rest of the coaching staff, had been harping on them to not play like they were ahead but to play like they were behind. Keep the fire lit, stop falling back on our heels and our goaltender. That was a large part of the issue. August Miles.

 The kid was fucking phenomenal. I mean, we’re talking Patrick Roy kind of good. If this were the pros Augie would be the leading contender for the Vezina trophy hands down. He was a brick wall. Dependable, off-the-charts skilled, and calm. Nothing rattled him anymore. And the team knew that. They saw how he picked up the slack when they sloughed off. Problem number one was getting them to stop relying on the excellent goaltending to win games. That would come soon, I hoped. Maybe Dexter should pull Miles for a game to shock the team out of that lethargy. I made a mental note to present that idea at the next staff meeting.

Problem number two was about to get handled by yours truly, aka Coach Finesse. We’d rolled into Waconia, MN late last night. This morning before skate, I was sitting down with my bone-headed buddy in the kilt.

McGarrity glanced up from the hotel buffet breakfast offerings he’d been perusing. I grabbed a plate off the stack and headed to the eggs and sausage.

“You’re down early,” Mario said and tonged up some bacon.

“Yeah, wanted to talk to you before the team rolled out.” Scrambled eggs and ten sausage links filled my plate. “Join me, won’t you?”

I walked to a round table – just one of eight or so in the lounge area off the buffet room – and dropped my plate to the table. Then I went back to get flatware and coffee. When I had those, I returned to the table, sat down across from McGarrity, and placed my silverware beside my plate.

“How are we feeling, Grandpa?” His eyes narrowed a bit. “Knees holding up?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking peachy.” He dove into his food with gusto. I set into cutting up the links. I’d have to eat them first. If Dan saw how much greasy pork was on my plate he’d bitch. The man was such a wife at times. I studied Mario’s flattop as I hacked sausage. His hair was a lighter red than mine, with a lot more silver. “You don’t have to worry about me. I got my eyes locked on that Finn,” he said around a mouthful of bacon and eggs.

“Yeah, about Pepperpopperpooperman, give us all a break and just play your game, okay?”

He swallowed and studied me intently. “I have been playing my game.”

“No, you’ve been playing the role of a goon and that’s not your game.” I forked some pork and shoved it into my mouth. Mmm, grease and sage. Mario gave me a dark look.

“Maybe I’ve been a bit more physical but this is my last go-round, you know. Scores to settle, memories to make, that kind of shit.”

I washed down my food with some surprisingly good coffee. “Right. Scores to settle and memories to make. And what kind of memories are those exactly? Recollections of sitting in the box while your team struggles night after night to cover your stupid ass?”

That put some fire into his gaze. He jabbed at me with his empty fork. “Look, Kalinski, I know you’re wearing a tie now and so you think you can talk to me like I was some tit-sucking pup, but I’m not and you’re a little too young to be preaching to me.”

I took another sip to let him stew for a second then I lowered my mug to the table. The sun was just cracking the blue-black of a bitter cold Minnesota morning outside the pane of glass we were seated by. Cold air leeched through the window, chilling the back of my neck.

“Yep, I am younger than you. By about ten years, but that’s no reason to dismiss what I’m saying. You know deep down that I’m right. This shit of tossing gloves every game is not you. Sure, you don’t take shit but now you’re instigating and losing focus.”

“I’m focused.” He stabbed at his eggs violently.

“Really? What are you focused on? Being an enforcer or being a forward who might help get his team a trophy? If this was my last season, I’d be all eyes on the prize but that’s just me.”

And I returned to eating. The ill will flowed from him for several minutes. We ate in silence. Players began filing in. I nodded to all of them as the shuffled to the food.

“I might see what you’re saying,” Mario mumbled when Mike moved past wearing some major bedhead.

“Good. I’ll make it clearer so even a thick-skulled Italian-Scot like you can grasp it with ease. If you get into one more fight between now and the end of the season I will kick your kilted ass up between your ears.”

“That’s not very coachy.”

“I’m not talking as your coach, I’m talking as your friend. I’m not sure what it is you’re trying to prove with this happy horseshit, but it needs to stop. Go prove you’re still young somewhere else like in bed with Lila. Go skateboarding with Langley. Sign up for a yearly subscription to Seventeen or Teen Vogue. I don’t care, but this asshattery needs to stop. You’re costing the team. Pull your fucking head out of your ass and go out with some dignity.”

“Don’t hold back or anything.”

“You ever know me to hold back?”

“No, not really.”

“There you go then.” I hurried to eat my sausage before my better half arrived.






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.