V.L. Locey's Blog, page 103
December 11, 2013
J. Annas Walker Visits!
Today we have the talented J. Annas Walker here to talk about her new release. She is also sharing an excerpt with us. Take it away J.Annas!
*~*
Scion’s DragonHouse of Dracul, Book 3
Blurb:
The vampire rebellion is over. Princess Cassandra Yvette Dracul, Scion of High Prince Vlad Dracul IV, aka Cassy Daniels, and David Ashe tried to put Avalon behind them. However, new threats stalk the couple. Vampire politics and werewolves are hard at work, hoping to bring down the royal family.
Cassy’s problems don’t end there! Her pregnancy woke her inner dragon. Slaking her bloodlust just became nearly impossible. The answer? Dragon’s blood! When the shipment arrives, someone has tainted it, giving her inner dragon more control. Cassy learns the real meaning of being a Dracul.
With a hostile takeover by another house underway, David finds the magical bond that ties him to Cassy is taking on new powers. Can he use them to save her? Will he be able to help his wife before she destroys everything? Can Cassy hold the dragon in check? With this many obstacles thrown at them all at once, is a greater force driving it? They just wanted a quiet life together, but can that ever happen?
A Siren Erotic Romance
http://www.bookstrand.com/scions-dragon
By: J. Annas Walker | Other books by J. Annas Walker
Categories: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Word Count: 53,038
Heat Level: SEXTREME
Published By: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.PRE-ORDER!
AVAILABLE: Tuesday, December 10th
This title is offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, December 17th.
About the Author
I started my love affair with vampires as a kid by reading Bram Stoker’s Dracula. It was the only vampire book our little local library branch had back then. Then, I discovered mail order books and fell in love with the tortured characters in Interview with a Vampire. In the mid 80’s, the most amazing thing happened! My family bought a VCR, and I was finally able to see movies! All the vampire flicks I could beg for flickered across the screen, making the love affair into a passionate, lifelong relationship. Today, I write fantasy and paranormal romance and never pass up a chance to pair up vampires with the less-than-usual characters. Witches and elves currently top my list. I love weaving vampires into legends and myths where none exist. It’s my private world of the erotic, weird, and wonderful, and I invite every reader to go along for the ride.
My Website: http://jannaswalker.weebly.comMy Blog: http://jannaswalker.blogspot.comBookStrand.com: http://www.bookstrand.com/j-annas-walkerAmazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Annas-Walker/e/B009G2FJNQFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/jannas.walker.1Twitter: https://twitter.com/jannaswalker
STORY EXCERPT
She pointed at the human forms on the ground. “Check them for the marks. If they match, you have your rogue vampire house. If not, you have another slave rebellion. However, you gave me my freedom, and I intend to use it,” she said, touching the smooth surface of the mirror once more.She blew across the surface and uttered the trigger word, “Baile.”The Irish Gaelic word for home stirred the mirror’s magic. A small portal opened in front of her. On the other side, a dimly lit room with black leather walls and a massive oak four-poster bed waited for her return. As she walked through, she looked back over her shoulder at Cassy and gave her a fanged smile. Then, the portal collapsed, and she disappeared.“Check them for the marks,” Vlad ordered.David called out from the water's edge, “These all have the same tattoos.”Cassy searched the bodies around the cabin. All but three matched. Someone had tried to obliterate the top mark with burn scars and added a second mark below the scar. The thought of these people being treated like cattle made her sick.Vlad joined her, looking down at the replacement marks. “The ones in the voods are the same. Ve vill have to look up the old owner’s marks to find out who they vorked for,” he said, laying a hand gently on her shoulder.The sound of helicopter blades whooping drew her attention to the sky. Lights searched the ground for a place to land, but she knew the forest lacked a suitable pad. A rope ladder with metal rails dropped down from the sky.Vlad’s phone rang. “Yes?” He paused as he listened to the man on the other end. “That vill not be necessary. She is vell enough to climb. David can help her.” He turned off the phone and tucked it in his pocket. Without further instruction, he walked over to the ladder and started climbing up to the hovering helicopter.Cassy gave a startled jump when David took her hand, not having noticed him beside her. “I don’t think I can do this,” she said.“If you can run through the tree tops, you can climb a ladder,” he said encouragingly.“I don’t want to die,” she said, staring at the helicopter’s blades.“You’re not going to die,” he assured her.“Die? Who said anything about dying? I don’t want to fly,” she said, looking at him now.“That’s not what you said. I clearly heard you say die. The crash has made you afraid to fly, hasn’t it?”A wave of empathy came across the magical bond. She felt him send her an understanding and calming hope. He seemed to give her an unspoken promise of this time things would be different. He took her in her arms and kissed her softly on the lips.Vlad’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Come on, you two. Fuel is not free or unlimited.”David laughed and motioned for Cassy to take the ladder first. She managed to swallow her fear long enough to get several feet off the ground before David overtook her. She sensed a thread of panic as he positioned his body over hers.“Stop climbing and hold on tight!” David shouted over all the din. He made a gesture to the crew above and looped his arms through the side ropes.“What’s going on?” Cassy knew her foreboding slowed her down but not to this extent.“We’ve got company!” David shouted.The ladder started reeling in slowly at first and then faster. Looking down, she saw the reason for the sudden urgency. Snapping jaws and growls came from below. More werewolves tried to grab the lowest rungs with their teeth as they jumped. Cassy saw more coming through the woods to join the ones below.Images of being dragged back down into the sea of snarling, snapping teeth terrified her. A flutter from her middle gave her another reason to worry. What if their goal was not to just capture her? What if they wanted to destroy her and the baby?Finally, the ladder pulled them up to the helicopter. The noise of the four blades hurt her hearing. Out of nowhere, someone stuffed a pair of muffs on her ears. The painful sounds became bearable.David put her in a seat and helped buckle her in as Vlad closed the large side door. She saw wolves outside of the cabin with their necks stretched up to the night sky. The stance suggested a howl. A few transformed back into human form and knelt by their fallen comrades.Cassy felt pity for them. If they were still slaves, their master recklessly sent them to their deaths with no regard for them as fellow creatures of the night. If they were wolves in rebellion against an unjust system, why would they all have the same mark? Why wouldn’t they just rebel against their masters to gain their freedom?Then the thought occurred to her. Maybe they did not want just freedom. Maybe they wanted revenge.
*~*~*
*~*
Scion’s DragonHouse of Dracul, Book 3
Blurb:
The vampire rebellion is over. Princess Cassandra Yvette Dracul, Scion of High Prince Vlad Dracul IV, aka Cassy Daniels, and David Ashe tried to put Avalon behind them. However, new threats stalk the couple. Vampire politics and werewolves are hard at work, hoping to bring down the royal family.
Cassy’s problems don’t end there! Her pregnancy woke her inner dragon. Slaking her bloodlust just became nearly impossible. The answer? Dragon’s blood! When the shipment arrives, someone has tainted it, giving her inner dragon more control. Cassy learns the real meaning of being a Dracul.
With a hostile takeover by another house underway, David finds the magical bond that ties him to Cassy is taking on new powers. Can he use them to save her? Will he be able to help his wife before she destroys everything? Can Cassy hold the dragon in check? With this many obstacles thrown at them all at once, is a greater force driving it? They just wanted a quiet life together, but can that ever happen?
A Siren Erotic Romance
http://www.bookstrand.com/scions-dragon
By: J. Annas Walker | Other books by J. Annas Walker
Categories: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Word Count: 53,038
Heat Level: SEXTREME
Published By: Siren-BookStrand, Inc.PRE-ORDER!
AVAILABLE: Tuesday, December 10th
This title is offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, December 17th.
About the Author
I started my love affair with vampires as a kid by reading Bram Stoker’s Dracula. It was the only vampire book our little local library branch had back then. Then, I discovered mail order books and fell in love with the tortured characters in Interview with a Vampire. In the mid 80’s, the most amazing thing happened! My family bought a VCR, and I was finally able to see movies! All the vampire flicks I could beg for flickered across the screen, making the love affair into a passionate, lifelong relationship. Today, I write fantasy and paranormal romance and never pass up a chance to pair up vampires with the less-than-usual characters. Witches and elves currently top my list. I love weaving vampires into legends and myths where none exist. It’s my private world of the erotic, weird, and wonderful, and I invite every reader to go along for the ride.
My Website: http://jannaswalker.weebly.comMy Blog: http://jannaswalker.blogspot.comBookStrand.com: http://www.bookstrand.com/j-annas-walkerAmazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Annas-Walker/e/B009G2FJNQFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/jannas.walker.1Twitter: https://twitter.com/jannaswalker
STORY EXCERPT
She pointed at the human forms on the ground. “Check them for the marks. If they match, you have your rogue vampire house. If not, you have another slave rebellion. However, you gave me my freedom, and I intend to use it,” she said, touching the smooth surface of the mirror once more.She blew across the surface and uttered the trigger word, “Baile.”The Irish Gaelic word for home stirred the mirror’s magic. A small portal opened in front of her. On the other side, a dimly lit room with black leather walls and a massive oak four-poster bed waited for her return. As she walked through, she looked back over her shoulder at Cassy and gave her a fanged smile. Then, the portal collapsed, and she disappeared.“Check them for the marks,” Vlad ordered.David called out from the water's edge, “These all have the same tattoos.”Cassy searched the bodies around the cabin. All but three matched. Someone had tried to obliterate the top mark with burn scars and added a second mark below the scar. The thought of these people being treated like cattle made her sick.Vlad joined her, looking down at the replacement marks. “The ones in the voods are the same. Ve vill have to look up the old owner’s marks to find out who they vorked for,” he said, laying a hand gently on her shoulder.The sound of helicopter blades whooping drew her attention to the sky. Lights searched the ground for a place to land, but she knew the forest lacked a suitable pad. A rope ladder with metal rails dropped down from the sky.Vlad’s phone rang. “Yes?” He paused as he listened to the man on the other end. “That vill not be necessary. She is vell enough to climb. David can help her.” He turned off the phone and tucked it in his pocket. Without further instruction, he walked over to the ladder and started climbing up to the hovering helicopter.Cassy gave a startled jump when David took her hand, not having noticed him beside her. “I don’t think I can do this,” she said.“If you can run through the tree tops, you can climb a ladder,” he said encouragingly.“I don’t want to die,” she said, staring at the helicopter’s blades.“You’re not going to die,” he assured her.“Die? Who said anything about dying? I don’t want to fly,” she said, looking at him now.“That’s not what you said. I clearly heard you say die. The crash has made you afraid to fly, hasn’t it?”A wave of empathy came across the magical bond. She felt him send her an understanding and calming hope. He seemed to give her an unspoken promise of this time things would be different. He took her in her arms and kissed her softly on the lips.Vlad’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Come on, you two. Fuel is not free or unlimited.”David laughed and motioned for Cassy to take the ladder first. She managed to swallow her fear long enough to get several feet off the ground before David overtook her. She sensed a thread of panic as he positioned his body over hers.“Stop climbing and hold on tight!” David shouted over all the din. He made a gesture to the crew above and looped his arms through the side ropes.“What’s going on?” Cassy knew her foreboding slowed her down but not to this extent.“We’ve got company!” David shouted.The ladder started reeling in slowly at first and then faster. Looking down, she saw the reason for the sudden urgency. Snapping jaws and growls came from below. More werewolves tried to grab the lowest rungs with their teeth as they jumped. Cassy saw more coming through the woods to join the ones below.Images of being dragged back down into the sea of snarling, snapping teeth terrified her. A flutter from her middle gave her another reason to worry. What if their goal was not to just capture her? What if they wanted to destroy her and the baby?Finally, the ladder pulled them up to the helicopter. The noise of the four blades hurt her hearing. Out of nowhere, someone stuffed a pair of muffs on her ears. The painful sounds became bearable.David put her in a seat and helped buckle her in as Vlad closed the large side door. She saw wolves outside of the cabin with their necks stretched up to the night sky. The stance suggested a howl. A few transformed back into human form and knelt by their fallen comrades.Cassy felt pity for them. If they were still slaves, their master recklessly sent them to their deaths with no regard for them as fellow creatures of the night. If they were wolves in rebellion against an unjust system, why would they all have the same mark? Why wouldn’t they just rebel against their masters to gain their freedom?Then the thought occurred to her. Maybe they did not want just freedom. Maybe they wanted revenge.
*~*~*
December 9, 2013
Tuesday Tales - Check
Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing an excerpt from my 2013 NaNoWriMo novel, Laco Law – The Gnarled Oak. Laco Law is an M/M historical western romance, set in the fictional county of Laco, Texas in 1867.
This week our word prompt is ‘Check’ and we share what I think is one of the tenderest moments of this romance. We pick up as the doctor, Kirkwall James, is getting ready to leave after attending to Zeke.
As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!
“Damned wonder the lad is alive,” Dr. James said when I had walked him to the door of the jailhouse. “Most times the rope snaps the third vertebrae. Obviously the drunken sots didn`t set the noose proper, which, as it turned out, was a fortunate thing for Mr. Fire Sky. Are you sure you want an Indian sleeping in the same space as you? I suspect one of the ladies would be willing to let him sleep on their floor.”
I placed a silver dollar into his outstretched hand. “He stays here. Thank you kindly for coming so fast.”
“He should be fine in a few days, but if needed, give him more of the laudanum draught to ease the strain of his throat.”
“I`ll surely do that. Thank you, Doctor,” I said, closing the door on his back. I put out the lantern after locking the door. I could smell Zeke Fire Sky on the stagnant air currents. It was as if my senses were starved for any sign of him. I sprawled out in the empty cell with no concern about the blood-soaked mattress under me. Winton Buggs had been removed. To where his body had gone I did not care. I heard the soft snuffling sounds of Hessie thorough an open window. Seemed death was not in the vicinity tonight. It was still out at Chaparral Springs. Come morning, if Zeke were well enough to be left alone, I would have to ride back out, gather the bodies, and begin tracking the two survivors.
An hour passed. I grew weary of tossing and turning and so I rose from the thin bedding to check on the patient. Into Zeke`s cell I went, the unique tang of his tobacco smoke clinging to his skin and hair caressed my nose. I slid down the wall in the far corner to watch him sleep. A shaft of moonlight no wider than my thumb was resting on his parted lips. The bruises he sported looked better in the dark. The rope-burn marring his neck did not. It was a greasy, glaring testament to the wanton evilness that lurked in some men’s souls. His breathing was deep, rhythmic, reassuring in its steadiness.
It was also quite raspy. I rested my arms on my knees then placed my head to my arms. I dropped down into the dark embrace of slumber like a rock flung into a well. I woke up a few hours later, my lower back and neck bound up in knots. I groaned as I lifted my head from my arms. The thin strip of moonlight showed me that Zeke was awake, his ebony eyes locked onto me.
“How do you feel?” I asked, stretching my legs out to get rid of the pins and needles. His voice was barely a whisper.
“Like . . . hanged . . . by neck.”
When I gained the use of my legs I got up off the floor. My feet were still tingly when I took the few steps that brought me to his bedside. I wanted to sit beside him, but there wasn`t room. I knelt at his side. The need to touch him was so damned powerful.
“The doctor said nothing is broken, but he cannot speak for certain about internal damage. You might piss pink for a few days. He did not say about your throat or voice,” I said as I placed my elbows to the wooden bed frame. “Can I do anything for you?”
“Just . . . kill them,” he moaned, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. His hands rested on his wide chest.
“I plan on doing that,” I murmured, my hand moving to his face to push a long black curl from his busted cheekbone. Zeke`s eyes rolled from a spot on the ceiling to me. If a locomotive had plowed into me it wouldn`t have been nearly as devastating. I lost something of myself in his eyes at that moment.
“Still . . . curious,” he whispered. I nodded then kissed him as tenderly as I could. It was a delicate kiss, one meant to relay intent and emotion and about a hundred thousand other things best left for later. It was just a brush of a kiss; a tickle of a cat`s whisker on a bare leg, but it was enough. For now. He exhaled deeply over my lips.
Emboldened by the knowledge of what would be, I stroked more of his wild hair from his brow and face.
“Story?” he asked as the back of my fingers moved over his swollen cheekbone. I smiled weakly.
“I am no storyteller,” I replied.
“I tell you . . .” he swallowed harshly, the skin over his adams apple weeping droplets of blood, “. . . about Coyote when . . . sick.”
I ran my fingertip over one dark eyebrow. The misty memory of a vague feverish dream drifted behind my eyes.
“Deep in the bayou lives the Loup Garou,” I whispered while tracing his eyebrows.
Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey
*~*~*
Thanks for stopping in to visit! For more free reads by great authors follow the link back to the Tuesday Tales main blog.
Tuesday Tales
See you next week!
This week our word prompt is ‘Check’ and we share what I think is one of the tenderest moments of this romance. We pick up as the doctor, Kirkwall James, is getting ready to leave after attending to Zeke.
As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!
“Damned wonder the lad is alive,” Dr. James said when I had walked him to the door of the jailhouse. “Most times the rope snaps the third vertebrae. Obviously the drunken sots didn`t set the noose proper, which, as it turned out, was a fortunate thing for Mr. Fire Sky. Are you sure you want an Indian sleeping in the same space as you? I suspect one of the ladies would be willing to let him sleep on their floor.”
I placed a silver dollar into his outstretched hand. “He stays here. Thank you kindly for coming so fast.”
“He should be fine in a few days, but if needed, give him more of the laudanum draught to ease the strain of his throat.”
“I`ll surely do that. Thank you, Doctor,” I said, closing the door on his back. I put out the lantern after locking the door. I could smell Zeke Fire Sky on the stagnant air currents. It was as if my senses were starved for any sign of him. I sprawled out in the empty cell with no concern about the blood-soaked mattress under me. Winton Buggs had been removed. To where his body had gone I did not care. I heard the soft snuffling sounds of Hessie thorough an open window. Seemed death was not in the vicinity tonight. It was still out at Chaparral Springs. Come morning, if Zeke were well enough to be left alone, I would have to ride back out, gather the bodies, and begin tracking the two survivors.
An hour passed. I grew weary of tossing and turning and so I rose from the thin bedding to check on the patient. Into Zeke`s cell I went, the unique tang of his tobacco smoke clinging to his skin and hair caressed my nose. I slid down the wall in the far corner to watch him sleep. A shaft of moonlight no wider than my thumb was resting on his parted lips. The bruises he sported looked better in the dark. The rope-burn marring his neck did not. It was a greasy, glaring testament to the wanton evilness that lurked in some men’s souls. His breathing was deep, rhythmic, reassuring in its steadiness.
It was also quite raspy. I rested my arms on my knees then placed my head to my arms. I dropped down into the dark embrace of slumber like a rock flung into a well. I woke up a few hours later, my lower back and neck bound up in knots. I groaned as I lifted my head from my arms. The thin strip of moonlight showed me that Zeke was awake, his ebony eyes locked onto me.
“How do you feel?” I asked, stretching my legs out to get rid of the pins and needles. His voice was barely a whisper.
“Like . . . hanged . . . by neck.”
When I gained the use of my legs I got up off the floor. My feet were still tingly when I took the few steps that brought me to his bedside. I wanted to sit beside him, but there wasn`t room. I knelt at his side. The need to touch him was so damned powerful.
“The doctor said nothing is broken, but he cannot speak for certain about internal damage. You might piss pink for a few days. He did not say about your throat or voice,” I said as I placed my elbows to the wooden bed frame. “Can I do anything for you?”
“Just . . . kill them,” he moaned, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. His hands rested on his wide chest.
“I plan on doing that,” I murmured, my hand moving to his face to push a long black curl from his busted cheekbone. Zeke`s eyes rolled from a spot on the ceiling to me. If a locomotive had plowed into me it wouldn`t have been nearly as devastating. I lost something of myself in his eyes at that moment.
“Still . . . curious,” he whispered. I nodded then kissed him as tenderly as I could. It was a delicate kiss, one meant to relay intent and emotion and about a hundred thousand other things best left for later. It was just a brush of a kiss; a tickle of a cat`s whisker on a bare leg, but it was enough. For now. He exhaled deeply over my lips.
Emboldened by the knowledge of what would be, I stroked more of his wild hair from his brow and face.
“Story?” he asked as the back of my fingers moved over his swollen cheekbone. I smiled weakly.
“I am no storyteller,” I replied.
“I tell you . . .” he swallowed harshly, the skin over his adams apple weeping droplets of blood, “. . . about Coyote when . . . sick.”
I ran my fingertip over one dark eyebrow. The misty memory of a vague feverish dream drifted behind my eyes.
“Deep in the bayou lives the Loup Garou,” I whispered while tracing his eyebrows.
Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey
*~*~*
Thanks for stopping in to visit! For more free reads by great authors follow the link back to the Tuesday Tales main blog.
Tuesday Tales
See you next week!
December 7, 2013
Queer Town Abby Holiday Blog Hop- Gifts and Great Books Giveaway!
Happy Holidays!
I`m thrilled to be a part of the Queer Town Abbey Christmas Blog Hop! Since this is the season for giving there are prizes galore, so make sure to stop in and visit each author for your chance to win! I`ll be giving away a readers choice of any of my backlist books. That`s right, from zom-rom-com to hot M/M hockey romance to Greek mythological love to shifters, one lucky winner will get their choice of a PDF version of any of my Torquere Press books that will be listed and linked below.
Queer Town Abbey is also hosting a giveaway with some great prizes. Below you`ll find a question with a one word answer. To enter the QTA giveaway, you`ll need to visit the blog hop page and enter your answer.
The theme of this hop is ‘What Does Christmas Mean to Me?’ When I think of the holidays, I think of music first and foremost. Those holiday classics are what brings the memory of Christmas past to the fore. My mother, who we lost far too early, always had holiday tunes playing. Be it Bing Crosby, The Chipmunks, or her and my favorite, Elvis Presley, our house was filled with music as soon as the first box of decorations was brought out of the attic.
This is a tradition that I carry on with my daughter. Every year I make a point to play Elvis` Christmas album when we`re decorating our tree. In this day of everyone having their own personal music system plugged into their head, I think being exposed to something a little different is a good thing. She can listen to Hollywood Undead but when we`re decorating the tree, it`s Elvis. I hope that when she has a family of her own, she`ll play her grandmother`s favorite music for her children.
And what holiday would be complete without cookies?! Not mine that`s for sure! This recipe for Peanut Butter No-Bake cookies is one of my family`s favorites. It`s simple, fast, and most of all delicious.
2 cups of sugar½ cup milk1 stick of butter1 tsp. of vanilla¾ cup peanut butter3 cups instant oatmeal
Combine the first three ingredients. Heat until boiling, and then boil for ninety seconds. Add the last three ingredients, stir until well coated. Drop heaping spoonfuls onto wax paper. Stand back and watch them disappear!
*~*~*
Now for the spreading of holiday cheer!
First for the QTA Blog Hop Giveaway. Here is my question: Who do I listen to when decorating my Christmas tree?
Queer Town Abbey Blog Hop
And now for my giveaway! Everyone who visits and leaves a comment telling me what their favorite holiday memory is will be entered in the drawing. On 12/13 at 8 PM EST, I`ll enter all the names into the jolly and sometimes holly Random Thing Picker. Please don`t forget to leave your contact information in your comment. Below are links to the books that are being offered. All books are in PDF form. The winner can choose one book that tickles their tinsel the most. Check out the buy pages for snippets and information on each book. The winner can choose from:
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham:http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_85&products_id=3887
Goaltender`s Penalty:http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_91&products_id=3974
An Erie Halloween:http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_85&products_id=4050
Love of the Hunter:http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=83&products_id=4070
Have a joyous holiday season, and good luck!
Yours in love and laughter,
V.L. Locey
I`m thrilled to be a part of the Queer Town Abbey Christmas Blog Hop! Since this is the season for giving there are prizes galore, so make sure to stop in and visit each author for your chance to win! I`ll be giving away a readers choice of any of my backlist books. That`s right, from zom-rom-com to hot M/M hockey romance to Greek mythological love to shifters, one lucky winner will get their choice of a PDF version of any of my Torquere Press books that will be listed and linked below.
Queer Town Abbey is also hosting a giveaway with some great prizes. Below you`ll find a question with a one word answer. To enter the QTA giveaway, you`ll need to visit the blog hop page and enter your answer.
The theme of this hop is ‘What Does Christmas Mean to Me?’ When I think of the holidays, I think of music first and foremost. Those holiday classics are what brings the memory of Christmas past to the fore. My mother, who we lost far too early, always had holiday tunes playing. Be it Bing Crosby, The Chipmunks, or her and my favorite, Elvis Presley, our house was filled with music as soon as the first box of decorations was brought out of the attic.
This is a tradition that I carry on with my daughter. Every year I make a point to play Elvis` Christmas album when we`re decorating our tree. In this day of everyone having their own personal music system plugged into their head, I think being exposed to something a little different is a good thing. She can listen to Hollywood Undead but when we`re decorating the tree, it`s Elvis. I hope that when she has a family of her own, she`ll play her grandmother`s favorite music for her children.
And what holiday would be complete without cookies?! Not mine that`s for sure! This recipe for Peanut Butter No-Bake cookies is one of my family`s favorites. It`s simple, fast, and most of all delicious.
2 cups of sugar½ cup milk1 stick of butter1 tsp. of vanilla¾ cup peanut butter3 cups instant oatmeal
Combine the first three ingredients. Heat until boiling, and then boil for ninety seconds. Add the last three ingredients, stir until well coated. Drop heaping spoonfuls onto wax paper. Stand back and watch them disappear!
*~*~*
Now for the spreading of holiday cheer!
First for the QTA Blog Hop Giveaway. Here is my question: Who do I listen to when decorating my Christmas tree?
Queer Town Abbey Blog Hop
And now for my giveaway! Everyone who visits and leaves a comment telling me what their favorite holiday memory is will be entered in the drawing. On 12/13 at 8 PM EST, I`ll enter all the names into the jolly and sometimes holly Random Thing Picker. Please don`t forget to leave your contact information in your comment. Below are links to the books that are being offered. All books are in PDF form. The winner can choose one book that tickles their tinsel the most. Check out the buy pages for snippets and information on each book. The winner can choose from:
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham:http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_85&products_id=3887
Goaltender`s Penalty:http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_91&products_id=3974
An Erie Halloween:http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=78_85&products_id=4050
Love of the Hunter:http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=83&products_id=4070
Have a joyous holiday season, and good luck!
Yours in love and laughter,
V.L. Locey
December 6, 2013
Dear Jon - Issue # 19
The next chapter in my M/M historical romance Dear Jon is up over at Storytime Trysts.
I hope you enjoy this romantic trip back in time.
Storytime Trysts
December 2, 2013
Tuesday Tales - Wavy
Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again. This week I`ll be sharing an excerpt from my 2013 NaNoWriMo novel, Laco Law – The Gnarled Oak. Laco Law is an M/M historical western romance, set in the fictional county of Laco, Texas in 1867.
This week our word prompt is ‘Wavy’. A lot has happened since our last excerpt. Clayton has found out what fate befell his sister and nephew after he had been shot. Zeke and Clay had a parting of the ways after both men became aware of a growing attraction. After discovering that the former sheriff has been killed, Clayton has been given the sheriff`s star by the town elders in Laco to aid him in tracking down a band of outlaws terrorizing the countryside.
The following scene is the first time Clayton has seen Ezekiel since they split up. I will warn you that what you are about to read is graphic, violent, and may be disturbing for some readers.
As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!
*~*~*
It took Hessie and me over two hours to find Chaparral Springs. Drunken queens tend to be lax on precise directions. As it turned out, my getting lost for an hour or so was a true blessing. We rode past the burned out hulk of the Chaparral Springs Meeting House. Guess the Gum Brothers and their cronies didn`t like having a house of God in their town. When I rode around the charred hulk of the little church on the outskirts, I could see why. To this day I cannot recall what I rode upon without a ball of emotion rising up to choke me down.
Four men were staggering around under a gnarled oak that marked the entrance to the long forgotten mine town. Seated on a grey gelding with a noose tight around his neck was Zeke Fire Sky. My heart stopped beating when someone fired a revolver into the air. Zeke`s horse shot out from under him. The rope snapped tight. My blood turned to ice. Laughter filled the mesa. I reached for the Henry that now rode in place of Zeke`s muzzle loader by my leg.
The first two shots went wide. Zeke`s feet were twitching. The foursome spun around in a drunken stupor, wondering who was shooting. My third shot sheared the thick rope that Zeke was hanging by. His big body collapsed to the dusty ground. I swung my sights from the gnarled oak and took aim at the men who were finally reaching for their side-arms. A shot whizzed past my right ear. I laid low on Hessie`s back. My boot-heels rammed into her ribs. My next shot blew the back of one man’s head off. The next, coming directly after I worked the lever-action, hit one of the bastard`s high in the chest, spinning him around.
Down he went, howling like a swamp demon. I rode hard at them, firing off all sixteen shots in rapid succession. Two men hauled ass back to their ghost town, firing haphazardly over their shoulders at me. I jerked on the reins when we neared the gnarled oak. My feet hit the ground. I jumped over a small clump of prickly pear, my heart hammering.
Zeke lay on his side, his hands bound behind his back. I rolled him over, taking care of his head with a gentle hand to the back of his skull. His neck was bleeding where the rope had bit into it. I bent down to place my ear beside his open mouth. A weak breath tickled my ear. There was no question as to what needed done. Bounties would have to wait. I cut the hemp binding his wrists then I lifted Zeke from the ground. His head rolled to my shoulder.
I tripped a time or two, my eyes blurry from unshed tears as I held the man close to me. Hessie was nervous. She stamped and skittered to the side. The smell of death and blood in her nose was making her jittery. Whispering to the mare I placed Zeke over her strong withers. Once I was in the saddle and had the Henry in its scabbard, I tenderly lifted the man up. He rode back to Laco with my arm around him. Hessie was close to exhaustion when we galloped past the feed store.
Someone on the upper balcony of the Two Ravens shouted down at me asking if I needed help. I didn`t think there was much that could be done for a man nearly hanged, but I yelled for a doctor. Two of the whores disappeared inside. I rode to the jail full bore. Hessie got me to the lean-to behind the jailhouse and then she quit. She went down to her front legs, throwing me and Zeke up and over her head. I rolled over the half-dead Indian. Hessie`s rear legs dropped down under her and there she lay, gasping loudly over foamed lips. I got to my feet shakily.
Zeke`s wavy hair was spread out around his head. His lips were puffy and split, his eyes blackened, his cheek bones bruised. I had been so damned intent on the obvious damage to him that I hadn`t noticed the beating he had taken. Someone ran around the building. I lurched forward for my Henry. The barrel was up and pointed at the forehead of Isabella. The whore`s eyes went wide. I lowered the rifle with trembling hands. Two burly cowpokes and a man in a frilly robe arrived next. We four men each took an extremity. Zeke was carried into the jail. His lanky frame didn`t fit in the cot.
“You the doctor?” I asked of the man with glasses, a thin nose, bright brown eyes, and a paunch. He also had the knobbiest knees I had ever seen on a man.
“That I am.” He tugged his borrowed lacy robe closed. I allowed him access to Zeke. The Indian was undressed in short order. A sheet was pulled up to his waist to protect his modesty. Dusk was settling in. I rushed to find and light the kerosene lamp. When I returned to the cell I was horrified to see how mangled that beautiful brown body was. Black and blue marks covered ninety percent of Zeke`s flesh. I held the lantern while the doctor did what he could. The cowpokes had gone around back to attend to my horse. I prayed that death would keep a wide berth of the tiny brick jail in Laco, Texas.
Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey
*~*~*
Thanks for stopping in to visit! For more free reads by great authors follow the link back to the Tuesday Tales main blog.
Tuesday Tales
See you next week!
This week our word prompt is ‘Wavy’. A lot has happened since our last excerpt. Clayton has found out what fate befell his sister and nephew after he had been shot. Zeke and Clay had a parting of the ways after both men became aware of a growing attraction. After discovering that the former sheriff has been killed, Clayton has been given the sheriff`s star by the town elders in Laco to aid him in tracking down a band of outlaws terrorizing the countryside.
The following scene is the first time Clayton has seen Ezekiel since they split up. I will warn you that what you are about to read is graphic, violent, and may be disturbing for some readers.
As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!
*~*~*
It took Hessie and me over two hours to find Chaparral Springs. Drunken queens tend to be lax on precise directions. As it turned out, my getting lost for an hour or so was a true blessing. We rode past the burned out hulk of the Chaparral Springs Meeting House. Guess the Gum Brothers and their cronies didn`t like having a house of God in their town. When I rode around the charred hulk of the little church on the outskirts, I could see why. To this day I cannot recall what I rode upon without a ball of emotion rising up to choke me down.
Four men were staggering around under a gnarled oak that marked the entrance to the long forgotten mine town. Seated on a grey gelding with a noose tight around his neck was Zeke Fire Sky. My heart stopped beating when someone fired a revolver into the air. Zeke`s horse shot out from under him. The rope snapped tight. My blood turned to ice. Laughter filled the mesa. I reached for the Henry that now rode in place of Zeke`s muzzle loader by my leg.
The first two shots went wide. Zeke`s feet were twitching. The foursome spun around in a drunken stupor, wondering who was shooting. My third shot sheared the thick rope that Zeke was hanging by. His big body collapsed to the dusty ground. I swung my sights from the gnarled oak and took aim at the men who were finally reaching for their side-arms. A shot whizzed past my right ear. I laid low on Hessie`s back. My boot-heels rammed into her ribs. My next shot blew the back of one man’s head off. The next, coming directly after I worked the lever-action, hit one of the bastard`s high in the chest, spinning him around.
Down he went, howling like a swamp demon. I rode hard at them, firing off all sixteen shots in rapid succession. Two men hauled ass back to their ghost town, firing haphazardly over their shoulders at me. I jerked on the reins when we neared the gnarled oak. My feet hit the ground. I jumped over a small clump of prickly pear, my heart hammering.
Zeke lay on his side, his hands bound behind his back. I rolled him over, taking care of his head with a gentle hand to the back of his skull. His neck was bleeding where the rope had bit into it. I bent down to place my ear beside his open mouth. A weak breath tickled my ear. There was no question as to what needed done. Bounties would have to wait. I cut the hemp binding his wrists then I lifted Zeke from the ground. His head rolled to my shoulder.
I tripped a time or two, my eyes blurry from unshed tears as I held the man close to me. Hessie was nervous. She stamped and skittered to the side. The smell of death and blood in her nose was making her jittery. Whispering to the mare I placed Zeke over her strong withers. Once I was in the saddle and had the Henry in its scabbard, I tenderly lifted the man up. He rode back to Laco with my arm around him. Hessie was close to exhaustion when we galloped past the feed store.
Someone on the upper balcony of the Two Ravens shouted down at me asking if I needed help. I didn`t think there was much that could be done for a man nearly hanged, but I yelled for a doctor. Two of the whores disappeared inside. I rode to the jail full bore. Hessie got me to the lean-to behind the jailhouse and then she quit. She went down to her front legs, throwing me and Zeke up and over her head. I rolled over the half-dead Indian. Hessie`s rear legs dropped down under her and there she lay, gasping loudly over foamed lips. I got to my feet shakily.
Zeke`s wavy hair was spread out around his head. His lips were puffy and split, his eyes blackened, his cheek bones bruised. I had been so damned intent on the obvious damage to him that I hadn`t noticed the beating he had taken. Someone ran around the building. I lurched forward for my Henry. The barrel was up and pointed at the forehead of Isabella. The whore`s eyes went wide. I lowered the rifle with trembling hands. Two burly cowpokes and a man in a frilly robe arrived next. We four men each took an extremity. Zeke was carried into the jail. His lanky frame didn`t fit in the cot.
“You the doctor?” I asked of the man with glasses, a thin nose, bright brown eyes, and a paunch. He also had the knobbiest knees I had ever seen on a man.
“That I am.” He tugged his borrowed lacy robe closed. I allowed him access to Zeke. The Indian was undressed in short order. A sheet was pulled up to his waist to protect his modesty. Dusk was settling in. I rushed to find and light the kerosene lamp. When I returned to the cell I was horrified to see how mangled that beautiful brown body was. Black and blue marks covered ninety percent of Zeke`s flesh. I held the lantern while the doctor did what he could. The cowpokes had gone around back to attend to my horse. I prayed that death would keep a wide berth of the tiny brick jail in Laco, Texas.
Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey
*~*~*
Thanks for stopping in to visit! For more free reads by great authors follow the link back to the Tuesday Tales main blog.
Tuesday Tales
See you next week!
December 1, 2013
All I Want for Christmas Cover Reveal!
Ho-ho-ho! The first of December is here, and as promised, so is the cover for my upcoming M/M romantic-comedy novella, All I Want for Christmas! This is the first story in The Toms & Tabbies series. Each novella in the series will be self-contained, and they will also have the common theme of the characters interactions and relationships with their cats.
All I Want for Christmas will be released on December 18th by Torquere Press. Here`s a blurb as well as a wee excerpt.
*~*
Blurb
Alex Dawson never intended to spend Christmas in the snowbound log cabin of handsome wildlife artist, Cooper Reynolds. See, it all started when Alexander`s cat, Mister Tibbets, did a bit of online holiday shopping . . .
*~*
Excerpt
It was close to nine when my key slid into the lock on my apartment door. I cracked the door slightly, then slithered inside. Closing the door with my ass, I squinted into the semi-darkness of my tiny little flat.
"Tibbets," I called in that universal cat-calling style. "Oh Mr. Tibbets, Daddy's home with nom-nom for you," I added in a sing-song voice. I took a step. Something squished under my shoe. I paused, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. "Shit," I sighed. And yes, it was. I knew he'd be mad. Leaning on the wall I removed the fouled loafer and tip-toed forward as if I were crossing a field riddled with land mines. Locating the lamp on the end table, I flooded the living room with illumination. Then wished I hadn't.
There, spread out across my sofa on his back in a death pose, was Mr. Tibbets. All fifteen pounds of ugly-ass, gray cat. His crooked tail hung off the side of the couch. His shredded ear was droopy, as was his good ear. A weak sort of dying noise escaped the poor, starving feline.
"Tibbets, why did you shit on the floor?" I demanded. He opened one yellow eye slowly, as if he were barely clinging to life. A weak meow escaped him. "Oh, spare me the theatrics! I know you shit there on purpose!"
*~*
I hope you enjoyed your peek at my next upcoming release. Thank you all so much for your continued support. *hugs*
All I Want for Christmas will be released on December 18th by Torquere Press. Here`s a blurb as well as a wee excerpt.
*~*
Blurb
Alex Dawson never intended to spend Christmas in the snowbound log cabin of handsome wildlife artist, Cooper Reynolds. See, it all started when Alexander`s cat, Mister Tibbets, did a bit of online holiday shopping . . .
*~*
Excerpt
It was close to nine when my key slid into the lock on my apartment door. I cracked the door slightly, then slithered inside. Closing the door with my ass, I squinted into the semi-darkness of my tiny little flat.
"Tibbets," I called in that universal cat-calling style. "Oh Mr. Tibbets, Daddy's home with nom-nom for you," I added in a sing-song voice. I took a step. Something squished under my shoe. I paused, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. "Shit," I sighed. And yes, it was. I knew he'd be mad. Leaning on the wall I removed the fouled loafer and tip-toed forward as if I were crossing a field riddled with land mines. Locating the lamp on the end table, I flooded the living room with illumination. Then wished I hadn't.
There, spread out across my sofa on his back in a death pose, was Mr. Tibbets. All fifteen pounds of ugly-ass, gray cat. His crooked tail hung off the side of the couch. His shredded ear was droopy, as was his good ear. A weak sort of dying noise escaped the poor, starving feline.
"Tibbets, why did you shit on the floor?" I demanded. He opened one yellow eye slowly, as if he were barely clinging to life. A weak meow escaped him. "Oh, spare me the theatrics! I know you shit there on purpose!"
*~*
I hope you enjoyed your peek at my next upcoming release. Thank you all so much for your continued support. *hugs*
November 29, 2013
Dear Jon- Issue # 18
The next chapter in my M/M historical romance Dear Jon is up over at Storytime Trysts.
I hope you enjoy this romantic trip back in time.
Storytime Trysts
November 27, 2013
Happy Thanksgiving!
For those who celebrate, may your day be a joyous one.
November 25, 2013
Best of Tuesday Tales
Hello and Happy Thanksgiving!
This week the writers of Tuesday Tales are digging into their archives of past Tuesday Tales posts. We hope you enjoy rereading some of our favorite excerpts while we spend time with our families and friends. We`ll be back next week with new snippets from our current works-in-progress. So those of you who are waiting for more from Zeke and Clayton won`t have too long to wait.
December is just around the corner, and let me tell you there are some fun things coming your way! They`ll be some book giveaways, holiday blog hops, and a new release from yours truly! I`ll be revealing the adorable cover for All I Want for Christmas on Sunday, December 1st right here on my blog.
I thought it would be fitting to use an excerpt from my M/M holiday novella, All I Want for Christmas, as my 'Best Of' post for November. Much of the inspiration for this novella came from a Tuesday Tales picture prompt. The word for the week had been 'Spider'. This excerpt had not been edited and probably contains some errors. I do ask you to overlook those if you come across them.
I hope you enjoy touching base with Alex and Cooper once more.
*~*~*
“Your pants are soaked. Give them here and I`ll toss them in the dryer,” Cooper said just the way my mother used to when I was a boy. I turned and peeled them off. “The shirt too,” he added stepping up behind me. I handed over the sodden Wranglers then tugged the fleece over my head. “I`m not trying to pry, but is that a spider on your ass?”
This is why a man should not let his mother buy him underwear. I threw my chin up and defied him to say another word. “Yes, it is. These are my lucky Spider-Man boxers. Now if you could stop gawking at my ass, some clothes would be appreciated.”
The man clamped his mouth shut then walked off chuckling. There was a second where I debated about defending Spidey but I said bugger that as well. Instead of arguing for web slingers on your underwear I removed a mug from the dishwasher, my goal a fresh cup of hot java to ease the pink in my cheeks. Both sets.
“Here you go, your own clothes.” Cooper held my Darth Stewie sleepers and Toby Keith concert tee. I thanked him, placed my full mug to the island then slid my cold legs into the well-worn pajama bottoms.
I turned around to find Cooper enjoying my shirtless state. He took his time meeting my eyes. When he did a slow burn was taking place in his gaze.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, stepping close then running his finger over the scar across my right pectoral. The skin quivered. My nipple puckered tightly as he traced the line of pink flesh enticingly close to the sensitive nub.
“Skating accident,” I squeaked. He knew his touch was affecting me; I could tell by the way the corner of his goatee would twitch in amusement. He stopped, fingertip resting just below puckered nipple.
“I`m sorry, did you say ‘skating accident?’” he asked. I bobbed my head and used his shock to put some distance between him and I. I threw a leg over a stool nonchalantly, then pulled Toby on. Toby would protect me from Cooper`s powers of seduction. “Did someone skate over you as you lay shirtless and unconscious on the frozen pond?”
“No, Senor Sarcasm.” I said and then took a loud slurp of my coffee. Coop snorted then sat down beside me, his mug of sugared black cradled between his skilled hands. “It`s a long story that you would find boring.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” the snide bastard countered with a wry sideways glimpse. “I`m beginning to think nothing about you is boring or mundane.”
*~*~*
For more great free reads by talented writers just click the link below-
Tuesday Tales
For those who celebrate, have a safe and joyous Thanksgiving!
This week the writers of Tuesday Tales are digging into their archives of past Tuesday Tales posts. We hope you enjoy rereading some of our favorite excerpts while we spend time with our families and friends. We`ll be back next week with new snippets from our current works-in-progress. So those of you who are waiting for more from Zeke and Clayton won`t have too long to wait.
December is just around the corner, and let me tell you there are some fun things coming your way! They`ll be some book giveaways, holiday blog hops, and a new release from yours truly! I`ll be revealing the adorable cover for All I Want for Christmas on Sunday, December 1st right here on my blog.
I thought it would be fitting to use an excerpt from my M/M holiday novella, All I Want for Christmas, as my 'Best Of' post for November. Much of the inspiration for this novella came from a Tuesday Tales picture prompt. The word for the week had been 'Spider'. This excerpt had not been edited and probably contains some errors. I do ask you to overlook those if you come across them.
I hope you enjoy touching base with Alex and Cooper once more.
*~*~*
“Your pants are soaked. Give them here and I`ll toss them in the dryer,” Cooper said just the way my mother used to when I was a boy. I turned and peeled them off. “The shirt too,” he added stepping up behind me. I handed over the sodden Wranglers then tugged the fleece over my head. “I`m not trying to pry, but is that a spider on your ass?”
This is why a man should not let his mother buy him underwear. I threw my chin up and defied him to say another word. “Yes, it is. These are my lucky Spider-Man boxers. Now if you could stop gawking at my ass, some clothes would be appreciated.”
The man clamped his mouth shut then walked off chuckling. There was a second where I debated about defending Spidey but I said bugger that as well. Instead of arguing for web slingers on your underwear I removed a mug from the dishwasher, my goal a fresh cup of hot java to ease the pink in my cheeks. Both sets.
“Here you go, your own clothes.” Cooper held my Darth Stewie sleepers and Toby Keith concert tee. I thanked him, placed my full mug to the island then slid my cold legs into the well-worn pajama bottoms.
I turned around to find Cooper enjoying my shirtless state. He took his time meeting my eyes. When he did a slow burn was taking place in his gaze.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, stepping close then running his finger over the scar across my right pectoral. The skin quivered. My nipple puckered tightly as he traced the line of pink flesh enticingly close to the sensitive nub.
“Skating accident,” I squeaked. He knew his touch was affecting me; I could tell by the way the corner of his goatee would twitch in amusement. He stopped, fingertip resting just below puckered nipple.
“I`m sorry, did you say ‘skating accident?’” he asked. I bobbed my head and used his shock to put some distance between him and I. I threw a leg over a stool nonchalantly, then pulled Toby on. Toby would protect me from Cooper`s powers of seduction. “Did someone skate over you as you lay shirtless and unconscious on the frozen pond?”
“No, Senor Sarcasm.” I said and then took a loud slurp of my coffee. Coop snorted then sat down beside me, his mug of sugared black cradled between his skilled hands. “It`s a long story that you would find boring.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” the snide bastard countered with a wry sideways glimpse. “I`m beginning to think nothing about you is boring or mundane.”
*~*~*
For more great free reads by talented writers just click the link below-
Tuesday Tales
For those who celebrate, have a safe and joyous Thanksgiving!
November 22, 2013
Dear Jon - Issue # 17
The next chapter in my M/M historical romance Dear Jon is up over at Storytime Trysts.
I hope you enjoy this romantic trip back in time.
Storytime Trysts
