V.L. Locey's Blog, page 11

Pucks & Percentages Issue #3

Happy Sunday! Hope you're ready for another issue of our new serial MM hockey romance! I know I'm ready for more. If you are as well, follow the link below to find this weeks post. Thanks for reading along!







Pucks & Percentages Issue #3

Blue Line Venom #6 Release Day!

#MF #Hockey #Romance

Buy Links:
Amazon - https://tinyurl.com/yapyuj5tAmazon UK – https://tinyurl.com/y7armzkfSmashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/788414B&N - https://tinyurl.com/y8ca69bvKobo - https://tinyurl.com/ycxtu7ub



Blurb:
If there’s one thing that Helen Parat knows, it’s how to defend. Whether it’s her goalie or her bruised heart, the Venom’s top D-man isn’t about to let anyone get too close. While it’s an admirable thing on the ice, it’s left her alone for far too long in her personal life. Better lonely than taunted, the stately beauty decided years ago. That philosophy has served Helen well – until Bobby Fovea entered her defensive zone.

The energetic and handsome Wildcats captain is winning Helen over, one honest and loving smile at a time. Just when she thinks she’s blocked him out, Bobby finds a new way to work his way into her heart. As Helen and the Venom make their push for the championship, it’s going to take every ounce of dedication, grit, and passion she has to seize not only the cup but the happiness she’s denied herself for far too long. 

Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt

It`s time for Tuesday Tales.


Today we have a snippet from A Star-Crossed Christmas, which is a Cayuga Cougars holiday shot that will be in a hockey holidays anthology at the end of the year.
This week is our picture prompt and all snippets must be 300 words or thereabouts.
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!



“Remember when we were at that away game of yours and…”
That was how the whole meal went. Talking over the people we’d gone to school with, where they were now and what they were doing. Rehashing the good times, laughing over the stupid shit we’d done as teenagers. Our steaks came and were eaten, our wine arrived and was drank, the conversation never hitting a dip or skidding to a halt like with a stranger. We knew each other so well. We were friends, closer than friends, to be honest. I wasn’t sure what came after close friends on the intimacy scale. Lovers? Partners? Soul Mates? Would any of those ever apply to us?
“Hey, you drifted again.” Shaun reached around the candle and the empty plate that had held a slice of coconut cream pie. He placed his hand over mine. I smiled and turned my hand over, the back on the linen tablecloth, my palm touching his. “Where were you?”
“Just thinking about what comes next.” I studied our hands, the way our fingers were so similar. Long and strong, short nails, some scars. Masculine hands.
“We talk about some things.”
My sight lifted. His eyes were beautiful. “I’m negative and always use condoms even if the woman says she’s on the pill because I do not want kids now.”
“Okay, well, I was going to save that for a time when we weren’t surrounded by strangers, but cool. Me too except for the women and birth control pill bit.”
I threw a fast look at the people closest to us. No one seemed to have heard my announcement. Someone opened the front door, the cold air felt wonderful.
“Sorry, I just figured that was talk number one for gay guys.”
“It’s right up there. I was leaning more toward opening with how we think we can have more when I’m headed to Aspen tomorrow for a week-long competition while you go back to New York State.”
Copyright 2018 ©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

Pucks & Percentages Issue #2

Happy Sunday! Hope you're ready for another issue of our new serial MM hockey romance! I know I'm ready for more. If you are as well, follow the link below to find this weeks post. Thanks for reading along!





Pucks & Percentages Issue #2

MM Goodness Review - Helping Hand (Housemates #1) by Jay Northcote

#MM #NA #Romance 

Amazon

You know you have a just wrapped up a great book when you race to Amazon to buy the next novel in the series. I’d blush but hell, I’m not ashamed at all because I adore well-written MM romance. Don’t we all? Of course, we do.
This is a great read, overflowing with realism and superb characterization. We have two college students/roommates – Mac and Jez -who find themselves growing closer to each other as they slowly discover some truths about their sexuality and, of course, themselves and how they’re maturing. That’s a real draw for me, that slow progression to acceptance of who the character is as a person.
Mr. Northcote does an amazing job giving us accurately created young men finding that perfect person right under their unsuspecting noses. I couldn’t put this book down. Then I was sad because it was over. Good thing I have the next one to leap into, huh?

5 out of 5 stars

Tuesday Tales - Pocket

It`s time for Tuesday Tales.


Today we have an excerpt from A Star-Crossed Christmas, which is a Cayuga Cougars short story being written for a hockey holidays anthology coming out later this year!
Our word prompt today is “Pocket”. In today’s scene, the growing passion building between our leading men breaks free in the same place it did two years previously, the basement of Shaun’s grandmother’s quilt shop.
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!





We parked in front of the quilt shop and Shaun unlocked the front door then relocked it after we were in. Not that crime was a big problem in Liberty. “I keep telling her she needs a better security system,” Shaun said, flicking on a small light over the register in the corner. The shop was packed with bolts of fabric, ceiling to floor, shelves and shelves of them. There were racks that held more bolts all over the place, so walking through the store was always this kind of jig and dance, turn left, turn right, do-si-do and do not spin your partner round and round. “Good luck with that,” I replied, padding to the tables by the front window to gather up several bolts of holiday material in my arms. Shaun joined me, and I handed mine to him and picked up eight more. A couple trips should do it. Then we could go to Shaun’s parent’s house and vegetate while enjoying Jabber and the gang. Sounded like a perfect way to end a perfect day. “I know, but come on, someday some tourist punk kid is going to break in just to be a dick.”“Probably.” There was no arguing that fact. “Still, I don’t see her installing anything without a fight.”“That’s all truth. Watch the steps down, okay?” He kicked open the cellar door which sat behind the register. The hinges cried out. “They’re old and super steep.”“I remember.” I led, going down only after Shaun had hit the light switch with his elbow. The basement was dry, wide, and filled with material, sewing stuff, and a couple old sewing machines on equally old sewing machine stands. It always smelled a little off down here or something. Not super gross but just off. Dusty and dank. Like old dirt or something. We stacked the bolts on a table, filled our arms with Valentine’s material, and climbed back up the stairs. We did that four times. On the final trip down, we paused and looked at each other across the long folding table heaped high with holiday colors. “You think we’re ugly corporate types, hauling out Valentine’s Day stuff when Christmas isn’t even over yet?” I enquired. “You know those quilting ladies. They like to get a head start.” “Guess so.”“Remember the last time we were down here?” I shoved at a bolt trying to slip off the mound with my elbow since my hands were in my pocket as I looked at Shaun. “Like four minutes ago? Yeah.”“No, not that time before. The time before two years ago.”“Oh.”The lonely naked bulb by the stairs threw Shaun into all kinds of shadow. It worked for him, giving his lush mouth and cheekbones some alluring valleys and accents. “I was so happy then. Like, floating on air. I’d told my parents that I was gay, and they were so cool about it. And then you pulled into town with all your goofy smiles and those cute ears, and all the Hanna-Barbara love, and I got swept into the feelings that I’d been carrying around for you.”“Got to love Jonny,” I nervously joked, plucking at my Jonny Questt-shirt. Shaun came around the table. I stood my ground; the dry and dank air now filling with heat and want. You could taste desire filling the cellar, feel it. “I made a move and kissed you. You were so stiff, so scared, and I knew as soon as I’d done it that I’d ruined things for us.”“No, you didn’t. I was just…that kiss confused me.”He now stood in front of me, the smell of Shaun mingling with the hot pheromones slipping into my sinuses. Need coursed through me, plumping up my cock. I stared at his mouth. “I know. I handled things badly. I just – it was just stupid of me to do that. I didn’t give you any chance to say no, or anything. I just kissed you. So, like, now, if you wanted to say no I would be fine with that. We don’t have to kiss now, or even ever. I mean, I’d like to kiss you now or maybe sometime later, and maybe date and talk about travel and hold hands and—”“You’re talking too much.” I grabbed his face and pulled his mouth to mine. It was kind of funny to feel him stiffen momentarily, as I had a couple of years ago. Then the shock melted away and his arms slid around me. His lips were soft and pliant under mine, opening on a hot exhalation when I shifted my hip to the side a bit. I could faintly taste blood from my split lip.          It was Shaun that touched the tip of his tongue to my lower lip, running it over the split, easing back on the pressure I was applying in my fumbling rabid need to get him close. I lapped at his tongue gliding over the injury. He tipped his head, my fingers still pressed to his cheeks. There was no hesitation on my part. I opened wide, twisting in his embrace, my body now thumping with lust.






Copyright 2018 ©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

Free MM Hockey Romance Serial!

As a "Thank You, We Love You So Much!" to our wonderful readers, RJ Scott and I are teaming up on a free MM hockey romance serial called Pucks & Percentages! 








Pucks & Percentages is a sexy, sporty, sultry romance starring Michael Campbell, a statistician who goes to work for the Rush, the AHL feeder team for the Harrisburg Railers. Once in Carlisle, Mike meets Nick "Taz" Tazinski, the self-assured alternate captain. There's an instant attraction between our numbers man and our hockey player, but is desire and passion enough to keep them together or will this new relationship be a distant memory when Mike's time with the Rush is over?



You'll be able to dive into a new issue - starting today with issue #1 - every Sunday over at our lovely new MM Hockey Romance site which you can find by following the link below--

http://mmhockeyromance.com/


While you're there feel free to poke around and check into all the posts about the Railers, The Rush, and our upcoming collegiate team, the Owatonna Eagles.

We hope you enjoy this gift from us to you. We're having a wonderful time writing it! 


Love and hugs,

RJ and V.L. 

Cover Reveal and Preorder Links for Blue Line Venom #6

I'm all wrapped up in bittersweet feelings as I share the final cover for the last book in the Venom series. I've loved writing these books and have grown to feel as if every woman on the team is a dear friend. I hope my M/F readers feel the same. This last Venom book is probably my favorite as Helen has grown on me throughout the series. I was so happy to be able to give her a love as pure and honest as Bobby Fovea. She deserved it. 

You can preorder Blue Line now to ensure Helen and Bobby are awaiting you on 3/14.






#MF #Hockey #Romance 


Buy Links:Amazon - https://tinyurl.com/yapyuj5tAmazon UK – https://tinyurl.com/y7armzkfSmashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/788414B&N - https://tinyurl.com/y8ca69bvKobo - https://tinyurl.com/ycxtu7ub


Blurb: If there’s one thing that Helen Parat knows, it’s how to defend. Whether it’s her goalie or her bruised heart, the Venom’s top D-man isn’t about to let anyone get too close. While it’s an admirable thing on the ice, it’s left her alone for far too long in her personal life. Better lonely than taunted, the stately beauty decided years ago. That philosophy has served Helen well – until Bobby Fovea entered her defensive zone.

The energetic and handsome Wildcats captain is winning Helen over, one honest and loving smile at a time. Just when she thinks she’s blocked him out, Bobby finds a new way to work his way into her heart. As Helen and the Venom make their push for the championship, it’s going to take every ounce of dedication, grit, and passion she has to seize not only the cup but the happiness she’s denied herself for far too long. 


Excerpt:

“Okay, so next week when we have a day off between games, we’ll meet up here and go to the Mennonite store to get fabric. I’m so excited!” Alicia bounced around her spacious kitchen as we cleaned up the patterns, coffee mugs, and a sticky honeypot Wren had been sticking her fingers into. “I got a pink lily dress.” Wren informed us then took off in pursuit of a kitten that had wandered into the house from the goat barn. “She insisted on pink.” Alicia told me when I joined her at the sink to dry the mugs she was washing by hand. “She’ll look precious. And what about you? What’s your bridal gown like?” She sighed a bit, as if in a dream, and then shook her head, her soft golden hair framing her face. “We try not to boast about material things but, oh, Helen, it’s going to be so beautiful!”I smiled at her. “He’s a lucky man.”“We’re both lucky. The goddess has blessed us both in so many ways. And she’ll bless you too.” With that, she reached over to pluck the damp dishcloth from my hand. The others had filed out to explore the farm. “Why don’t you go outside and talk to Bobby for a bit.”I crinkled my nose. “He’s got a good soul, Helen. Even Dale and Sage have commented on that. Sincerity glows within him. What harm can come from being nice to him?”A chicken began to cackle outside, which made the geese start honking. She had no idea. Alicia had probably never been laughed at by a drunken frat boy when he took off her shirt. “Right, nothing. I’m off to talk to Bobby.” I left her standing at the sink with soapy hands and a wistful expression. Might as well just get this over with and talk to the man. When things went south then they’d all stop nudging me, and I could go back to my perfectly nice life.The back of the farm faced the pastures. Along one fence were some beehives. I spotted my teammates over at the farm pond, seated along the bank, soaking their feet in the water by the looks. That looked like fun. But no. I had to go make small talk with Bobby. Pfft. Following the fence, I came to the barn. There were no goats to be seen. One large gate had been removed from a massive post driven into the fertile ground. I slipped into the opening, stepped over the gate lying on the ground, and peeked into the barn. Nothing in there but mangers filled with hay and dust motes floating in slim streams of the summer sun. “Hey!”I spun around and there he stood. Smiling, as always, with his bare shoulders exposed to the sun. They were lightly freckled. Slick with sweat. I forbid my eyes to drop to his bare chest. Eye to eye contact only. “Hi. I uh…” I waved a hand at the gate by my feet. “Came inside. Is that okay?”“Sure, yeah. We’re around back working on a small pen that they use for the kids when they’re little.” He motioned me to the eastern side of the barn. I gave him an awkward smile then went around the old clapboard barn. Sage was sitting under a tree with his legs in a lotus, sipping cold tea. He lifted a hand in greeting and I did the same. A gusty wind whipped past, tugging on Sage’s long gray hair. I had no idea what to say to the man. I kept my eyes on the ground. Bobby stepped around me, leaned his shoulder on the side of the barn and started talking. I slipped my hands into my pockets and bobbed my head as he chatted about fence staples, apple trees in the orchard, and how beautiful my eyes were. Wait. What?“What?” I asked when the compliment sank in. He cocked his head a bit to the left, his big shoulder dropped a little, and he gently reached out to touch the side of my face with his hand. His finger was rough, calloused, and gentle. That thick shank of soft red hair fell over his brow. “You have beautiful eyes. So green, like the mountains. And skin white like homemade vanilla ice cream.”“I’ll be thirty-four in August.” “You want a party?” “I – you – what? No. I’m not asking for a party. I’m telling you that because you stroking my face is stupid.” A bee flew by and landed on the side of the barn. Bobby was too busy trying to make up silly things to compare my eyes and skin to to take notice of a bug. “You say that a lot. About me liking you or thinking that you’re pretty. Why do you think that?” He never moved closer, if anything he swayed back some. Perhaps he was worried that I’d bolt which was preposterous. Helen Parat was solid like a wall. Built like one too…“Why do I think it’s stupid for you to have these romantic notions?” “Yeah.”A rivulet of sweat ran down the side of his face, through the bristles of his new beard, and down the side of his thick neck. Then the stupid thing slithered down his pectoral, leading my gaze down to a dark pink nipple surrounded by a few dark red hairs. Where would that sweat droplet go next? Downward over his hard stomach? Maybe. Hopefully. I was happy to wait here by the barn with the bee and see where it went. I had time. All day. And his stomach was quite nice with all those rippled muscles and a treasure trail of dusky red hair that—“Helen, are you checking me out?” I heard the humor in his voice. My eyes leaped from that sinful trail to his twinkling brown eyes. “I like coffee with muffins.” Oh, Helen, what kind of moronic statement was that? Dear God, woman. “I mean…your sister thinks that – I need coffee. Not muffins. Unless you want muffins then we could do muffins but they’re empty calories.”“So, you were checking me out.” Well wasn’t he suddenly filled with masculine self-satisfaction? “I like coffee with muffins too.” When I said nothing due to my brain literally drowning in estrogen, he flashed a smile filled with white teeth. His gaze locked with mine, a sultry hum of sexual attraction riding the wind like the sweet scent of bread baking in Grandma’s kitchen. He placed a hand on the side of the barn and locked his elbow. “Blueberry are good.” I finally manage to reply. “Yeah, they are good.” If he kissed me now I would…kiss him back. Slap him. Kiss him back. Slap him. No, kissing is nicer than slapping. Maybe a dirty look? No, dummy, no dirty looks. Just kiss him. But…kiss him back. Sigh. Fine. Kiss him back wins. I would. I’d regret it afterward but not during.

Tuesday Tales - Cabinet

 It`s time for Tuesday Tales.


Today we have an excerpt from A Star-Crossed Christmas, which is a Cayuga Cougars short story being written for a hockey holidays anthology coming out later this year!
Our word prompt today is “Cabinet”. In today’s scene, we see the heat between these childhood friends starting to increase. 
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!



There were rails and jumps built into the yard. The rails set in concrete, the jumps made from old picnic tables and then manicured after the snows fell and buried the tables. Exiting the Subaru, I smiled at the sight. Kirk and Adam were ripping around the yard on four-wheelers, Kirk, a senior at Liberty High – Go Liberty Lions! – was pulling Adam, a freshman, back up to the driveway on a snowboard. A long length of rope was the towline. It was crazy dangerous, and it was exactly what Shaun and I had done for years. I looked at Shaun as his brothers raced past, shouting obscenities. “How soon can we hit those pipes?” I asked. He opened the hatch on the car and handed me his famed yellow board. “Soon as you get a board under you.”“Dude, no. That’s your baby.”“I insist. She’ll do you good.” He shoved the safflower board into my chest and we went inside to find some boots that fit me. Mrs. Sandbeck met us at the door with a hug for me and a warning for her two youngest boys to be delivered by Shaun. “Tell them that I do not want to see them towing without helmets,” she said to Shaun, while patting my cold cheeks. She was so pretty and smart. She was also the first black woman to hold the title of Mayor of Liberty. “He can tell them, but they won’t listen,” Mr. Sandbeck tossed out as he passed by with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. “Good to see you, Mitch.”“You too, Mr. S.” I slid into the massive closet just inside the front door. It was packed with coats, boots, boxes of bindings, skates hanging off hooks, skis, a sled, several hockey sticks, and a baseball bat and several wet softballs making a puddle on the stone floor. There were cabinets packed with gloves, hats, and scarves.“Well, at least I’ll have done my motherly duty by warning them. This way when they end up concussed I can say, ‘I told you so’. Seems all I do is tell these boys the same things over and over. ‘Please use Febreze in your room’ or ‘I dislike crusty socks in my hamper’ or ‘If you’re in the same room that I am there will be no hands down the front of your pants’. Take the blue ones, Mitch, they’re Shaun’s old ones and should fit you.”“Right, I’ll tell them.” Shaun said to his mother while I toed off my snow boots and wiggled my feet into Shaun’s old board boots. I was having major fuzzy feelings. The memories of doing this very thing for years ran over me like a warm summer rain. “You are coming over tomorrow afternoon, right?”I glanced up at Mrs. S while trying to get the liner in place so I could lace. “Oh, uh, sure, yeah. I’d love to.”“Good.” She smiled warmly at me, gave Shaun a look that I did not grasp, and then went off to do mayorly things, I guess. “She’s the best,” I told Shaun and bent over to lace up the heavy boots. “Yeah, she’s great. I’m glad you’re coming over. I have something for you.” “I have something for you too,” I whispered, feeling awkward and fat-fingered.“Cool but not necessary. Now hurry up and lace. I’m anxious to see if you remember how to spin a one eighty.”“Please. I knew how to spin a one-eighty when we were in third grade.”An hour later I was back in snowboarding 101. It was embarrassing how much I’d forgotten. I’d kind of bitched about Shaun lecturing me, but after I wiped out after a simple Ollie, he’d put his boot down. We’d manage to work up through five or so simple tricks that I now had good control of. Muscle memory or something, maybe? Or maybe it was my awesome teacher. “Okay, so, now that you’re back to where you were when we were like four,” Shaun teased, giving me a hard shoulder bump, “I want you to try something easy but will grab you some short air.”Snow was falling at a steady but slow rate. Kirk and Adam had gone inside to eat lunch, leaving the yard for us to enjoy. “Your body awareness is good, so let me see you try an indy grab,” Shaun said.“Okay, yeah, I remember doing those.” I pulled my knit hat down over my ears. It kept moving up my head. Maybe my big, dumb ears were pushing it up “Good. Come into the jump with some speed, but not too much. They’re super straight forward, so when you get some air, bend your knees and reach your backhand down to grab the board.”“Right. Got it.” Shaun grinned and pounded on my back. Then he stood back and motioned me to head down the yard and hit that first jump. “If I nail this, and I will because I’m the boss of backyard boarding, you’ll owe me at least an hour on the ice before I go home.”“Mitch, if you hit this trick, I’ll give you two hours on the ice and I won’t even wear skates.”I nodded and placed the board in my hand on the snow and fastened my boots to it. The blue boots kind of clashed and were a bit tight, but who cared? “Now remember about pressing and ollies, and keep your weight distributed on the board,” Shaun reminded me.I rolled my eyes and edged to the slope. Down I went, the wind bitter cold in my face, my eyes watering, and my heart thumping fast as I picked up speed. I hit the jump way too fast, I knew it as soon as I cleared the snow-covered picnic table, and when I bent my knees to reach for the board, I threw myself off balance. When I hit the ground, the edge of the board dug into the snow instead of the flat bottom, and I went face first into the snow. My chin caught the brunt of the crash, and I bit down on my lower lip. Blood filled my mouth. I started to snicker. Shaun was bellowing my name, the shouts getting closer. I rolled to my back, nose and eyes packed with snow, lip bleeding, laughing softly. “Mitch, man, are you okay? Shit, you’re bleeding.” He dropped down beside me, kneeling on my arm then quickly apologizing and sliding his knee off my bicep. “Dude, are you okay?”“Yeah, I’m fine.” I brushed at the powder on my lashes and sneezed a time or two as I sat up and freed my boots from the board. “Just busted my lip, it’s good,” I snorted in amusement. “Shit, you look rough,” he said, his voice losing the panic it had held a minute ago. “Here.” He pulled off a glove, dug around inside his thick coveralls, and pulled out a hankie. Resting on his calves, he pressed the red square of soft cotton to my lip. I winced but continued sniggering at myself. The humor of talking shit and then wiping out so royally amusing me to no end. He pulled the hankie away, leaning in to study my lip at close range. His sleek eyebrows knotting then smoothing out. “Okay, it’s just a small gash. Don’t think it needs stitches. The moms will be upset.” He placed the hankie tenderly to my lip again. I blinked some wet from my lashes, and met his look, intending to say something about moms and worrying. Instead, I found myself fixated on a perfect little flake of snow landing on a cheek the same color as sunbaked driftwood. The flake rested on his warm flesh for a second and then turned into a small droplet of water. I watched, spellbound, as it ran down over his stubbled jaw. “Mitch.”My gaze moved up to meet his. His touch was still gentle on my lip, the cotton held in place with two fingers. I reached up to pull the square aside. All I wanted now was…something. Maybe to have him press his mouth to mine again. There was a smoldering fire igniting in his brown eyes.




Copyright 2018 ©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

MM Goodness Review - Dead Things by Meredith Russell

#MM #PostApocalyptic #SciFi

KU Exclusive


Some of you may not know this, but I am a HUGE fan of zombies. I love the heck out of books/shows/movies about survival in a post-apocalyptic world overrun with shuffling dead folk. There’s just something about watching those last survivors working out how to go on, how to live and love, in a world gone mad that I find wildly appealing. Hence my devotion to The Walking Dead, why I went to see Max Brooks speak at our local college (he was fab by the way), and why I penned an MM series about just such a thing a few years ago. I’m big on the zombies.
So, when I find a great book in this genre with gay leads, I want to shout about it, because they’re few and far between. Or at least I’ve not come across many. Dead Things is a wonderful tale of loss, pain, recovery, and love. The world building is superb, the plot perfectly paced and suspenseful, and the dialog crisp. And then we have the romance, which is done so well and with such regard to the horrors both men have endured, I just wanted to weep in sympathy and joy.

Ms. Russell has done an excellent job and I cannot wait to leap into the next book in the series.

5 out of 5 stars