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

*~*~*

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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

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.

Tuesday Tales

Tuesday Tales - Silver

Welcome back for more Tuesday Tales!

Today we have a snippet from the third Harrisburg Railers MM hockey romance book, Deep Edge, that I’m coauthoring with Rj Scott. In this excerpt, Trent is about to step in front of the cameras for another segment in his reality TV show.

Our word prompt today is “Silver”.

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!

How wonderful it would be to have someone to scold about silly little social gaffes. I slipped back into that tiny office, closed the door, and spent the next forty minutes watching Deiter on ice. By the time the children were ready for me I was a hot mess but I put on my makeup and my performing smile and I sashayed out onto the ice like the fucking star I was. My skaters – the kids ranging in ages from six to sixteen – all applauded and gathered around me.

“Look at you all,” I gushed, hugging as many as I could. Some, like Scotty the ten-year-old transgender boy, were exceptionally special to me, but I adored them all. “Are you going to give the TV show cameras your best today?” I asked, moving through the adoring fans to get a last-minute costume and make-up check. They all shouted yes. They made me so proud.

It had been decided that I’d do one of my short programs from Sochi and then work with the kids, bringing in the Railers to show how harmonious we all were and how inclusive ice sports now were. Which was a huge pile of steaming shit. I remembered all too well the scathing remarks made about me by TV announcers - who were retired figure skaters - during my silver medal performance. I’d been called many terrible things since I first came out at a tender age but what those announcers had said about me being too feminine and too odd to be associating with young boys still turned my stomach. It made me cry back then and it would today given my state of mind if I’d only let it. But I refused to give shitful people like that the pleasure of seeing my tears. Besides, my skaters needed Trent to be Trent. And so, for them, I was always brave in public and shed the tears in private.

“We need to get this jacket up just a bit more,” I told Gayle. She began pinning the hem of the white short jacket. “If it’s too low it hides the curvature of my ass.”

“Hold still before I jab you.” She worked quickly. I smiled at the children and then found the hockey players lined up on the other side of the boards. I could feel Deiter before I could see him. I knew his eyes were on my ass, which is why I had to make sure that it was viewable. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” I lied. “Thank you for coming over and talking to me this morning. You’re an angelic agent,” I whispered as some tall man with a bun and garlic breath touched up my eye liner and gloss. As if it needed touching up. I knew how to apply, thank you.

“Remember that when the producers of the show ask you to allow them to go on a date with you.” She smiled at me then gave the sparkly white jacket a firm tug. “There. All pinned and high enough to show off that pert ass. Now go show the people at home why you won that silver medal.”

We bussed cheeks and then I skated out to center ice, inhaled, artfully raised my arms over my head, dug my toe pick into the ice and then waited for the music. It was one of my favorite routines, performed to ‘Carmen’ and showcased my flair and strengths. As soon as the music began my mind went to the routine, the jumps, the sass that signaled that Trent Hanson was performing this skate. Through the salchows and lutzs, the toe loops and axels I felt hot steady eyes on me. Knowing Deiter was right there engrossed by my ability and my body, feeling his hungry eyes on me as I worked my magic, made me feel lightheaded and giddy. Combined with the sheer joy of ice and music, when I ended with an impromptu Johnny Weir slide the darkness of the morning had lifted.

Copyright 2017 ©by V.L. Locey

*~*~*

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Tuesday Tales

Open Net - Cayuga Cougars #2 - Cover Reveal and Preorder Links

You Cayuga Cougar fans are going to be all sorts of tickled! August and Sal's book is now up for preorder and you get a peek at the gorgeous cover as well as some preorder links. Take a long look at this beautiful book...

How darn sultry is that cover? And the romance that's inside is just as sensual and romantic. Here's the blurb, a few buy links (more will be available soon) and an excerpt to wet your whistles...

Buy Links:

Amazon - http://tinyurl.com/y6vdbqmz

Amazon UK - http://tinyurl.com/y82awkl2

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35618722-open-net

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.

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. Today we have a snippet from Deep Edge, Harrisburg Railers #3, which I’m coauthoring with Rj Scott. In this excerpt, Trent gets his first peek at the Railers, who he’ll be filming a reality show with.

Thanks so much for dropping by!

We could hear them talking. I peeked around the corner and saw them all gathered in a corridor. Eleven or twelve of them. Thirteen if you counted a leaner man with dark hair who didn’t look like be belonged among the troop. A baker’s dozen of them waiting for me to arrive so the torment could begin. Why had the week gone so quickly? I’d been trying to drag it out but it marched on without a care for Trent. Time was a puffy-faced sow. I should have ignored that stupid alarm clock and hidden in my bed all day.

I pulled back from the corner and looked right at my agent. Her nose was pink from the cold in the ice rink. I loved her little puffy teal jacket and made a mental note to ask later about where she’d gotten it.

“Are we sure we don’t want Jane Goodall in the leading role of this show?”

Gayle gave me a withering look. She was quickly perfecting that expression. It would serve her well. Damn. I should have worn one of my tiaras just to twist some nipples. Not that what I had pulled on wouldn’t get things rolling as soon as the simians laid eyes on me. Had Trent dressed to stir things up? Oh yes, Trent had.

I’d gone with the anime look for the day. Colored and teased hair, lined eyes which don’t count because I line my eyes daily, skin tight blue leggings under a short, flouncy kilt of green, blue, all topped with a tight blue and white sweater. Oh, and bright blue hiking boots and a few dozen bangles on each wrist.

“They look like very nice young men,” Gayle sagely replied.

Copyright 2017 ©by V.L. Locey & Rj Scott

*~*~*

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

Tuesday Tales

Changing Lines Release Day!

It's been a wonderful experience working with Rj Scott. I've learned so much from her and have found a true friend and Wonder Twin soul sister. I hope you can feel the love we have this genre, the sport of hockey, and our characters as you read each of the Railers books.

Tennant and Jared will always hold a special place in my heart as their story - and the battles they face to be honest about their love - have shaped the series into one of passion, hope, and acceptance in my eyes. Thank you for all your support, as always. It is because of you that this old chicken-herder can live out a dream.

Skate hard and love deeply,

V.L.

Changing Lines (Harrisburg Railers #1)

Blurb:

Can Tennant show Jared that age is just a number, and that love is all that matters?

The Rowe Brothers are famous hockey hotshots, but as the youngest of the trio, Tennant has always had to play against his brothers’ reputations. To get out of their shadows, and against their advice, he accepts a trade to the Harrisburg Railers, where he runs into Jared Madsen. Mads is an old family friend and his brother’s one-time teammate. Mads is Tennant’s new coach. And Mads is the sexiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

Jared Madsen’s hockey career was cut short by a fault in his heart, but coaching keeps him close to the game. When Ten is traded to the team, his carefully organized world is thrown into chaos. Nine years younger and his best friend’s brother, he knows Ten is strictly off-limits, but as soon as he sees Ten’s moves, on and off the ice, he knows his heart could get him into trouble again.

eBook

US - http://amzn.to/2scv9X1

UK - http://amzn.to/2rHtQgl

Can - https://goo.gl/NfD90u

Aus - https://goo.gl/zqF613

Smashwords - https://goo.gl/gt6Ve8

B&N - https://goo.gl/Azrt6i

Kobo - https://goo.gl/Dc6Lvi

iBooks - https://goo.gl/BbycG6

Tuesday Tales - Earth

It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

Today we have a snippet from the third Harrisburg Railers MM hockey romance book, Deep Edge, that I’m coauthoring with Rj Scott. In this excerpt, we get to meet one of the two leading men, Trent Hanson, a famous figure skater who has fallen on hard times.

Our word prompt today is “Earth”.

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!

Gayle sat down behind her desk, smiled at me yet again, and folded her hands in front of her. I raised a freshly plucked eyebrow. She was still trying to get a handle on me. Tobey & Troy was the largest athletic representation firm in Philly. They handled most of the Eagles, Sixers, and Flyers as well as several tennis players. And now they had me. Trent Lawrence Hanson. Famed gay figure skater and next in line to be a Dickens character in real life. Please, Sir, can I have more? Ugh. As if I’d eat gruel. What if I had too? What on earth would I do? The thought was too much to bear.

“I think that now that the legal issues with your father—”

“Stepfather,” I quickly reminded her.

“Yes, sorry, stepfather. Well, now that he’s been convicted and is serving his time I think it’s time we start working on marketing you in a positive light.” She smiled again, nervously, and leveled light blue eyes at me. “Where are you in terms of returning to competitive skating?”

I glanced out the windows at Ben Franklin standing atop City Hall. I began running my hands over the flaps of thin cotton lying over my thighs.

“I have no money, my professional reputation is shot, and my rink and my mother’s house are both two months away from foreclosure. Do you honestly think that I could find the mental clarity and focus to skate again?” As soon as I heard how bitchy I sounded I placed a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled into my fingers.

“It’s quite understandable,” she replied. She was far too nice to be saddled with a miserable cow bag like me. I wanted to cry but didn’t. I’d do that later when I visited Mom and Lola. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water would be lovely,” I coughed into my fingers. She rang her receptionist. “I’m better now. See.” I lowered my hand and smiled brilliantly at her.

Gayle nodded but melancholy lingered in her gaze. A tiny blonde hurried in with a bottle of water and handed it to me. I was about to ask if she could possibly find a cold one but I bit my tongue. Bitchy Trent had already escaped once today.

“Thank you.” She nodded and scurried out, closing the door behind her slim backside. Her shoes were terrible. Who wears black flats with a peach dress in late June? Honestly women, learn how to dress. I took tiny sips of the tepid water. Gayle waited. I capped the bottle and balanced it in my left hand so my coat didn’t get watermarked. I was a beggar now. I had to keep my wardrobe in good shape. Tears threatened again. Gayle broke into the building weep fest.

“I understand that you’re not mentally ready to return to figure skating. To that end, we need to find you something to do that will bring in good money so you can get your assets back in sound fiscal shape.”

“You mean pull my rink and my mother’s house out of the snapping jaws of foreclosure?”

“Well, I’d not have been quite that dramatic…”

“Few are,” I sighed as I returned to working out the crinkles in my duster.

“Right, well, I’ve been approached by GLBTQtv about a reality show with you as the star.”

My mouth dropped to my chest. “Get. Out.”

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 - Stone

It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

 Welcome back! “Stone” is our word this week. Today I’m sharing a snippet from First Season, the second Harrisburg Railers book. I’m coauthoring this M/M hockey romance series with Rj Scott and am thrilled to be able to share excerpts with the Tuesday Tales readers!

In today’s post, Adler is in a bit of a dark place.

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!

He thought I’d left. I guess I had in a way. I was no longer in his space or face but I was in the hall, staring at the door to his place, willing it to open and to see Layton calling me back in. Maybe he had changed his mind and wanted me around again. After thirty minutes, and no open door, I had to accept that he wasn’t ready for me now…or ever. I’d not been good enough again.

And that fear and anger and helplessness and regret and pain all started to coalesce in my breast. I wanted to do something for him but there was nothing I could do. I wanted to go back in time and find the motherfuckers who had hurt my man and beat them into paste. I wanted to punch holes in the walls of this nice corridor but couldn’t. So, I left his building and I drove around Harrisburg until I ran out of gas. Then I walked. Somehow, I ended up by the capitol building. It wasn’t open yet. I sat down on the west side on the grand stairs leading up the impressive white building. The ice on the steps made my ass cold. I got up after a bit, hands in my pockets, and continued walking.

I ended up by the banks of the Susquehanna River. There were big chunks of ice along the banks. The stones lining the shore were slick with ice as well. My breath fogged in front of me. I felt hollow inside. Hollow and angry. Angry at me, that stupid, hateful, homophobic fan for refusing to let his son have a puck from a queer player, the press, my parents, and myself. Somehow my love hadn’t been enough for Layton. I’d not been a good enough boyfriend. Probably because I was hiding the fact that I was his boyfriend. I was never good enough…

And so, the rage and self-disgust fed off the confusion and fear and it quadrupled. It was so large come evening that it was all there was of Adler Lockhart. I was a skating ball of chaos who was on the edge. All it would take would be a comment or a nudge. I got both ten minutes into the game with Philadelphia. The nudge was from Gabriel Marsan, a defenseman from Philly known for being one of those players who likes to push. He rarely made the mistake of being way over the line, but if he could instigate and pull a penalty then he would. He was good at both, pulling penalties and poking a humming hornets’ nest with his stick.

Copyright 2017 ©by V.L. Locey & Rj Scott

*~*~*

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

Tuesday Tales