Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt

It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

Today we have a snippet from a new MM hockey romance book, Lost in Indigo. In today’s excerpt Mat is having a talk with his nurse after disobeying her orders to stay in the sick bed on the first floor of his house.

This week is our picture prompt and all snippets must be 300 words or less and reflect the image chosen. 

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 remind me of my sister. She was mule-headed much like you.” Nurse flung the double doors of my bedroom open and I rushed in, disregarding her comment about being mule-headed. “Once when we were young women before leaving for college, she broke her arm riding her bike. She loved to bike and would ride for miles and miles up and down the St. Lawrence, stopping and sitting beside the river to watch it flow.”

My bedroom. Finally. I was so proud of myself. Amazing how quickly the things that fill you with pride can change. A month ago, nothing short of holding that silver cup over my head would have done so, now, getting to the second floor of my old home made me slaphappy.

“So, your sister. She was determined like I am?”

Nurse snorted. I wasn’t sure if it was humorous or dust in her nose. I glanced back over my shoulder but saw nothing on her emotionless face to give me a clue. 

“Determined. Yes, that’s one word for her. She left home one day on her bike and didn’t return. The police found her body four days later floating in the river.”

“My God, I am so sorry for your loss.” I wiggled around on my dusty bed to try to see her better. All I saw was her stiff white back now as she folded one of the drop cloths into a square so sharp the corners would cut you.

“It was many years ago but thank you for your condolences.” She turned to face me then, her gray eyes cold as flint. “That is what happens to people who don’t listen to the concerns of those who are caring for them. My mother and I would warn her constantly about going off on that bike alone, but she never listened. I’ll go call the cleaning company and inform them that they’ll need to come back to do this room. Rest now, please, and do not go out on the balcony alone.”

I nodded. She walked out, folded cloths in her arms, her step brisk.

“Cher dieu,” I whispered then fell back onto my naked bed. So much for my good mood…

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.

Tuesday Tales

Tuesday Tales - Chain

It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

Today we have a snippet from a new MM hockey romance book, Lost in Indigo. In this excerpt, Mat shows off his bear imitation but Indigo seems impervious to the snapping and snarling.

Our word prompt today is “Chain”.

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!

“Who is driving?” I snapped, arms folded over my “Ride the Surge” t-shirt.

They all looked at each other as if they were leery of crawling into the cart with an angry golden bear.

“I’ll drive you up.” Indigo skipped around the back of the cart, tossed my bags into the back, then planted his ass behind the wheel, an impish smile playing on those rouged lips.

“Does that grumbly grizzly yanking on his chain act always work on people?”

“Not always.” Apparently Indigo Neu wasn’t scared of the big bad bruin. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. “Usually not.” I grimaced as I tried to find a comfortable way to sit in the tiny cart. My legs were too long to stretch them out.

“We’ll be at the house soon.” Indigo slowed a bit, following the sharp curve with care. When we rounded the bend, my house stood before me, welcoming me.

“Wish I had a dog,” I mumbled as I wriggled around. My leg was paining me terribly now, that hit on the bumper flaring things up, I assumed. 

“Yeah? I’ve always wanted a bird. A pretty one the color of watermelon that would dance and say dirty things.”

I looked over at my driver. His profile was appealing. My whole leg hurt now, not just from the knee down. Even my toes were curled in protest.

“A watermelon bird?” Indigo nodded then gave me a quirky little inclination of his head as we rolled into the shade. Trees swayed in the strong wind, the rustling of the thick canopy music to my ears. 

“Christ, my damn leg hurts.”

“Sorry. I’m going as slow as I can.”

“No, it’s not you.”

We crawled to the front porch, the golf cart barely moving now. I groaned in misery viewing that ugly wheelchair ramp sprawled over the five steps on the side of the porch.

The cart rolled to a stop. “Just sit there and let me run inside to get the wheel—”

“I don’t need that chair.” I reached behind me, found the crutches, and got to my feet. I clumped up over the new boards, glaring at them and mumbling. “Fucking played half a period three years ago with a broken rib. Had my fingers busted from a slash and played. Had to pull out my own teeth a time or two. Never had no chair for any of that.”

Indigo appeared at my side, whistling a tune that tickled some old memory. I threw him a look as he walked at my pace, my bag over his lean shoulder, his hat riding at a jaunty angle.

“One time I took a header over the handlebars of my bike and tore all the skin off my chin.” He bounced around in front of me, tipped his head up, and showed me a delicate patch of pale skin under his chin. A few wispy whiskers coated his chin and jaw line. When he lowered his head, his dark eyes glittered with good humor. Did he not get that I was trying to be miserable?

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.

Tuesday Tales

Tuesday Tales - Coat

It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

Today we have a snippet from a new MM hockey romance book, Lost in Indigo. In this excerpt, Mathieu Beresford first lays eyes on the all grown up Indigo Neu at the airport after being discharged from the hospital.

Our word prompt today is “Coat”.

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!

Some kid ran past, screaming for his mother, nearly knocking my stupid crutch out from under my arm. I called him something bad in French but it sounded wrong to me.

“Did I say that right?” I asked Arn.

“Not a clue. I don’t speak French. My native tongue is Detroit, remember?”

“Ah yes, you speak fluent Motor City!” I laughed aloud for some bizarre reason.

Arn chuckled the entire way to the baggage claim, which is where I first saw the grown-up version of Indigo Neu. Maybe it was the pain killer still clouding my brain, but I don’t truly think it was. Indigo was the most compelling, attractive, outlandish man that I had ever seen. That cute flight attendant?

He was a slug in comparison to Indigo Neu. The kid had grown up well. Tall as me but much leaner, he stood beside Montclair, and while you could see the father in the son, the similarity in chins and the ebony hair were immediately cannonballed by the huge difference in appearance.

Montclair was all sturdy, dependable, workman with short black hair and dressed in jeans, short-sleeved cotton shirt, and work boots. Indigo was…well, I wasn’t sure what he was trying to say with his clothes or the makeup. I could see he’d put eyeliner on and colored his lips. Maybe they were just outlined and that deep pink color was natural. Kissing him would reveal the truth. Suddenly I needed to plant my lips to his more than I needed to suck in another breath. 

Arn said something. The guy beside him laughed. I stared.

Indigo’s hair was spiked up around a small black hat. A derby I think they’re called. This one had a blue and black checkered band that reminded me of hats the British police wear. His shirt was kind of a dress. I mean, of course it wasn’t a dress because men don’t wear dresses, but it sure looked like one. It was checkered like the band of his hat and hung to his knees. I had owned a coat that had that same pattern once. Flannel it had been. Warm. Soft. Probably like his lips...

Christ above but his mouth was perfection. I shook free of the spell his mouth held me in but fell right back into the lure of Indigo as my eyes continued touching him. There were no sleeves on his jumper dress thing, so his bronze arms were exposed. Nice arms they were, well-toned. I balanced on my crutches staring at his biceps for ages. Arn was talking to someone beside me as bags moved past.

My eyes got dry. I blinked and ran my gaze from Indigo’s arms to his legs. I love nice long legs on a man and even that part of the college sophomore didn’t disappoint. His black legging shorts stopped mid-calf. He wore blue combat boots with black laces. Not getting enough info, my sight roamed back up him and settled on his mouth. He wet his lips and a rush of pure lust hit me in the groin.

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.

Tuesday Tales

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.

Tuesday Tales