V.L. Locey's Blog, page 17
October 27, 2017
Saturday Story Spotlight - Shot at Love (Renegades 8) by Melody Heck Gatto
#MF #Hockey #Romance
Shot at Love Universal Link
Everyone needs rules to live by, but are they worth giving up your one shot at love?
Luc didn’t mean to fall for his teammate’s little sister. He had no intention of breaking the guy code: sisters were strictly off limits. Luc knew that breaking the rule could not only destroy a friendship but derail his career. And he didn’t think her brother was bluffing.
As soon as Luc found out the gorgeous brunette he’d been eyeing turned out to be his goalie’s sister, he hit the brakes. But then she said those four little words: I don’t date athletes.
Challenge accepted.
Now Luc couldn’t get Kassie out of his mind. She was turning his world upside down. This girl was the Juliette to his Romeo, the jelly to his peanut butter, the queen to his king.
But how could he prove to her that his reputation was a thing of the past? He was ready to do anything in his power to change her mind. He only hoped her brother didn’t kill him in the process.
October 25, 2017
MM Goodness Book Review - Voyageurs by Keira Andrews
Amazon
I really enjoyed this short story. It’s incredibly well-written and the setting is something that’s new and unique, at least to me. I’ve not found many MM romances set in the Canadian wilderness in the 1790’s. If there are more out there, someone fell free to shout at me so I can find them. I’d love of more of this kind of story. And yes, I’d love more of Simon and Christian’s story as well!
The two leading men just meshed perfectly. There were cultural differences to overcome and some harrowing times, but those brought the two men closer in a natural and realistic way. The plot was quite interesting, the attention to detail superb, and the sex was steamy hot. The romance was kind of slow burn which is fine because after about the 45% mark Simon and Christian caught fire. It’s a wonderful period piece filled with adventure, romance, and love. Highly recommended!
5 out of 5 stars
MM Goodness Book review - Voyageurs by Keira Andrews
I really enjoyed this short story. It’s incredibly well-written and the setting is something that’s new and unique, at least to me. I’ve not found many MM romances set in the Canadian wilderness in the 1790’s. If there are more out there, someone fell free to shout at me so I can find them. I’d love of more of this kind of story. And yes, I’d love more of Simon and Christian’s story as well!
The two leading men just meshed perfectly. There were cultural differences to overcome and some harrowing times, but those brought the two men closer in a natural and realistic way. The plot was quite interesting, the attention to detail superb, and the sex was steamy hot. The romance was kind of slow burn which is fine because after about the 45% mark Simon and Christian caught fire. It’s a wonderful period piece filled with adventure, romance, and love. Highly recommended!
5 out of 5 stars
October 23, 2017
Tuesday Tales - Seeds
It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
Today we have a snippet from a new MM hockey romance book, Lost in Indigo. In this excerpt one of Mat’s oldest and dearest ‘girlfriends’ gets the upper hand. This scene takes place over the 4th of July after a weekend party at Fran's.
Our word prompt today is “Seeds”.
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!
Thirty minutes and one slightly damp cast later, Indigo and I were slowly making our way to Fran’s room.“I need a shave,” I mumbled as I crutched my way past rooms filled with sleeping guests.“No leave it. I love that short, scruffy beard look.” He danced around me, filled with high spirits and knowing looks. “Beards are in right now.”“Beards are for playoffs,” I replied as we approached Fran’s suite at the end of the hall.He knocked lightly while chuckling at my comment. We were summoned into Fran’s rose and white suite. I’d been in here a few times before, well, as far as the lounge or receiving area as our hostess liked to term it. Never into the bedroom proper. “There you two are,” Fran sailed through the white double doors leading into her bedroom. A white turban covered her hair. She wore a white robe over a rose-colored gown. Tiny white slippers adorned her feet. She looked perfectly made-up and I hadn’t shaved in about five days. “Oh dear, did someone forget to pack a razor?”Staff scurried around to lift domed tops off the silver platters arranged on a small table with three chairs. The aroma of hickory smoked bacon reached by nose. My mouth watered and my stomach snarled. “He said to leave it. It’s the new rage.” I made my way to the table after Fran waved at it. Indigo pulled out her chair for her. That got him a loving smile and a pat on the cheek. “Sometimes the new rages are simply scruffy. But, it’s your face, Mathieu, do with it as you will.” She settled back and watched the two men at her table stuffing food into them with speed. “My, my, my. You two are ravenous.” She dunked a triangle of sesame seed bagel into her coffee cup and gave me a raise of one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “He’s a growing boy.” Indigo threw me a dark look. “Man. Growing man. Are we not supposed to eat?”“No, no, eat away.” She was smirking. I didn’t like it. I knew that look. Still, my stomach was empty and I was starved, so I continued eating, as did Indigo. Conversation was spotty because we guys had our mouths filled with eggs, bacon, and toast with peach jam most of the meal. When we began to slow down, Fran topped off our coffee then placed the carafe back on the hot plate by her left. “I’ve forgotten how it is to have a hungry man at my breakfast table. What could you have been up to that would work up such a hearty appetite so early in the day?”I patted my mouth with a pink napkin. Indigo sipped his coffee, smiled uncomfortably, and let me handle her questions. “We were lifting weights.” I knew the lie was terrible as soon as it fell out of my stupid mouth. Fran nodded as if judging my reply. Indigo hid behind his mug, slurping steadily until the cup was empty. Then he stood up and fumbled for an excuse to leave.“I wanted to take pictures of my work before we leave to show to my professors. May I be excused?” He was so cute and so freaking polite. I was proud of him even though I had nothing to do with his upbringing. “Of course, my sweet Indigo. Go snap pictures. Your employer will be here when you’re done.” She smiled up at him. “Oh, before you leave. Take this.” She slid an envelope out from under her china plate and held it out to Indigo. “No, Ma’am, thank you but no. Mr. Beresford pays me weekly.” “I’m aware, but you weren’t doing all the extra work for Mr. Beresford, you were doing it for me.” She shoved the envelope at him. He shook his head, soft black hair sliding back and forth over his brow. “If I were you, I’d take it,” I piped up as he tried to back away from the table. “Trust me, she’s not going to take no for an answer.”He looked from me to Fran. She waved the envelope at him once again. “Okay, thank you very much, Mrs. Webster. It’s greatly appreciated.” Into a back pocket the money went then he hustled off to snap pictures of flowers while I faced down Gloria Gossip in the white turban. She really was a striking woman. Deep brown eyes, incredible high cheek bones, and plump red lips. Her chin was a bit pointy but it worked well with the rest of her face. “When did you and Indigo become an item?” She casually asked, folding her arms over her small breasts. I suspected that was what all the pointed comments had been about. She’d not shocked me. Not that easily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s my Man Friday, I suppose you’d call it.”“Oh? Is that what the kids are calling it now? Man Friday. Hmm, yes, well he does seem to be all of that. Is sleeping with your Man Friday part of his duties as your factotum?”“You’ve been watching too many movies on Logo.” I sniffed then reached for the sugar bowl. “Mathieu, do you honestly think I didn’t know you were using me as a beard for the past seven years?” My hand froze then dropped to the table. “I – what? You’re…beard? That’s insane.”
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
Flow - Venom #5 Cover Reveal/ Preorder Links
#MF #Hockey #Romance
Buy Links:
Amazon US - http://tinyurl.com/y7dna2h7Amazon UK - http://tinyurl.com/y8g923avB&N - http://tinyurl.com/y9vvuq5bSmashwords - http://tinyurl.com/yaoqaubx
Blurb:
Life hasn’t been easy for Venom goalie coach, Alice Dunlop. She battled her way out of childhood poverty to earn recognition as a medal winning player in her youth. After a terrible loss ended her first marriage, she vowed to never put down roots in one city ever again. Then the offer to coach in the pros came along and with that job, a move to the City of Brotherly Love was required. She never expected to meet Bruno “The Bruiser” Bonbano, the burly ex-Wildcats defenseman. Things were supposed to be all about the physical and not so much the emotional. Guess no one told Alice’s heart that.
As her team scratched and clawed its way through a season filled with ups-and-downs, Alice found herself forming a true bond with the city, the players, and the other coaches. She also ended up falling in love with Bruno. As her team rolls into the playoffs, Alice and Bruno are about to come face to face with devastating news. Secrets decades old will be revealed that may bring the life she now has crashing down around her. In the face of a medical nightmare, will love, family, and hockey be enough?
R-Rated Excerpt:
There were two things I could count on every morning. One was waking up with a man who was roughly the same size, strength, length, soft downy furriness, and temperament as a grizzly bear. Two was Regimental Sergeant Major Bigglestrap would be at my door precisely at seven with breakfast, the Philadelphia Inquisitor, Philly’s biggest daily newspaper, and a proper dose of dry British commentary to go along with my muffin and coffee. If the resident manager of the Philadelphia Century Way was taller, stronger, hairier, and grumpier I’d set my cap for him.Thing Number One had one massive arm resting on my hip as he huffed into the back of my head. The hair covering his chest, stomach, and thighs tickled my back and ass but it was a pleasant tickle, not the kind that made you shriek. Figuring that Bruno wouldn’t rouse unless I dropped a safe on him, I wiggled my ass back into him, keeping my eyes shut as I willed sleep to come back. His body heat radiated out and over me. I sighed and burrowed my face into my pillow, inhaling the scent of clean linen and hot man.“You wiggling that ass against my dick for a reason?” my bed partner asked, his arm sliding forward to allow his hand to slip between my legs. “I’m cold,” I replied. “Uh-huh.” Bruno grunted, cupping my mound gently as his cock slowly plumped up. Generally morning sex wasn’t my thing. Grungy mouth, unwashed body, sleep dirt in my eyes, no lipstick. Something about Bruno Bonbano seemed to make me forget a lot of my hang-ups from time to time. I’d just parted my legs for his seeking fingers when two sharp, precise knocks fell on the door. “For fuck’s sake.” Bruno snarled into the back of my head. “I can tell him to leave the food.” His hand slipped out from between my thighs as his lips fell to my shoulder. He nipped the skin lightly then patted my stomach. “Nah, let him in. I have to meet Alain in an hour at the practice rink to help set up that summer league.”Knowing the hoped-for tryst was not going to happen, I sat up, thumbed some hair from my face, and enjoyed the sight of my lover leaving my bed. Bruno was a large man. He stood six feet six inches and weighed probably two-fifty or two-sixty, all that still solid muscle. Wide shoulders and lean waist, he’d been a force to be reckoned with as a defenseman back when he played for the Wildcats. The rigors of professional hockey and several concussions had nudged him into retiring. Nudged might not be the right term. According to Alain Lessard, who has known Bruno since birth, the last concussion had body-checked the man out of the sport. To this day, he’s not quite right, and I have fears…“Are he and Viviana staying here for the summer then?” I asked while kicking off the covers and burrowing around in the clothes piled in a nicely stuffed chair for my robe. Thank God for room service and hotel laundry. Bigglestrap knocked again. I hurried to pull the quilted belt attached to my robe from the mound of dirty clothing. “Don’t know yet. Probably.” Bruno padded past the door, turned the knob, and flung it open. I spun around and shoved my arms into the robe, bitching at Bruno all the while. “Morning, Biggie.” Bruno grunted before closing the bathroom door behind his bare ass. “Yes, well, good morning to you as well, Mr. Bonbano. Coach Dunlop, you’re a vision as always,” the resident manager said then stepped into my room. Rick, the bellhop who always brings my breakfast scurried into my suite, parked the trolley, tapped his hat, and then hustled out. “And you, Sergeant Major, are full of shit. Thank you.” I took the neatly folded daily newspaper from him then lifted a few lids off the servers. Eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, and orange juice. “Looks delicious. Anything new in this?” I shook the paper before pouring myself a cup of coffee. The thin man in the black suit shook his neatly-combed head. Jane had once commented that you could plumb a house with Bigglestrap’s part, and she was right. I often wondered if he used a ruler to ensure his dark hair was parted correctly. “No, nothing of great interest. The mayor is talking about a summer fest which could be rather refreshing. Let’s hope he doesn’t invite that tawdry chit who won that last talent show the radio station that employs Ms. West ran. I’ve heard more melodious tunes coming from my parrot, Joffrey.” He moved around the suite opening draperies as he chatted with an air of professional confidence. Why he – the resident manager – came to my room every day like this was anyone’s guess. Bruno said he thought Biggie, a nickname that Bruno had picked up from Jane, had a crush on me. I thought that was utter horseshit and had told Bruno that. Still, his coming here every morning was a bit odd but welcomed just the same. I liked him, and I loved his hotel. Renting a suite here was perfect. Month to month commitment. No roots to hold me in this city if the skyscrapers began to capture the dark memories of my lost son. “Oh! And there’s a lovely article about the Venom on the front of the sports page. Seems your women making it into the playoffs while the Wildcats didn’t is setting off the wagging tongues.”“I figured that would twist a few panties.” I commented then took a sip of the hotel’s amazing coffee.
October 20, 2017
Saturday Story Spotlight - Deacon's Law (Heroes #3) by RJ Scott
Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | KOBO | iTunes
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
Length: 50,000 words approx.
Heroes Series
A Reason To Stay (Book #1) - Amazon US | Amazon UKLast Marine Standing (Book #2) - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Blurb
How can you trust the man who tried to kill you?
Undercover cop Deacon Shepherd lost everything trying to maintain his cover - the man he loved and the future he craved. He walked away and never looked back because it was the only way to keep Rafael alive.
The last thing he needs is to be dragged back in that world, but an attempt on Rafael's life is enough to make him risk his heart again.
Rafael 'Rafe' Ramirez wakes up in the hospital, the victim of a hit and run. He’s horrified when the first face he sees is that of the man who betrayed him and left him for dead three years before. Witness protection had stripped Rafe of his family and friends, and now it seems his sacrifice to bring his Uncle to justice was for nothing.
Someone wants Rafe dead, and the only way he can stay alive is to go with the murdering drug dealer who broke his heart. But how can he ever trust Deacon, and how can Deacon protect Rafe without falling in love all over again?
Excerpt
Rafe opened his eyes, attempting to focus on the ceiling above him. He tried to lift his hand, but it felt as if there was lead in his veins, everything heavy and he couldn’t move. They’d told him he was getting better, so what the hell had happened? Had he relapsed? Why was he convinced that they’d taken him somewhere in an ambulance? That he’d leaned against a leather jacket that smelled of sunshine and soap? He blinked until the ceiling finally coalesced into the tiles he was familiar with.
Only there were no tiles.
Instead, the ceiling was a smooth white, and there were no strip lights, just a lampshade in a curious shade of blue. He blinked again. This didn’t make sense.
But when he opened his eyes, nothing had changed. The ceiling was still white, the lampshade blue, and the drapes at the window matched the shade. The drapes. There were drapes at the window. Confusion morphed into panic and he turned his head to the right to get a better feel for where he was and he saw…him.
Sprawled awkwardly in the chair, his head back, long limbs this way and that, clearly too big for the chair, was a specter from a past that wouldn’t leave him alone.
Deacon.
Intense fear sliced into Rafe.
They’d found him, had him strapped to a bed…was it Deacon who’d tracked him down and driven a car at him? He was paralyzed with a fear that made it hard to breathe, and he yanked at his hand, hoping to escape his restraints, only he wasn’t tied down, there was no rope. Instead his hand came up fast and he rolled sideways. Catching himself and coming off the bed, forgetting the fact that his leg was in a cast and toppling sideways, falling with a crash into a cabinet. He flailed but couldn’t stop himself falling, and he knew this was it – this time he was really going to die.
Deacon was up and at his side in an instant, and Rafe wanted to shut his eyes, wanted to block out seeing Deacon’s face again as he died, but he had to watch. He wanted Deacon to see his fear, and maybe that would stop him; maybe he could make Deacon stop and think.
“Shit, Rafe— Craig,” Deacon said, and reached for him, grasping his arms.
Terror became ice inside him, and Rafe stopped fighting; like a deer caught in headlights, he froze.
“What happened?” A second man stood in the doorway, someone Rafe didn’t know – tall, dark and dangerous-looking. Maybe this new arrival could stop Deacon?
“Help me,” Rafe forced out, looking past Deacon, scrambling to stand as the ice melted and he pushed himself to move.
“He woke up, saw me, and fell out of bed,” Deacon said, and the other man came right in. There were two of them, and there was little Rafe could do to get away. There and then, he screwed his eyes shut; nothing was going to save him now.
But there was no pain, no bullet. Instead, the two men helped him to stand, and then he felt the bed at the back of his thighs and they sat him down.
“Are you okay?” Deacon asked. Even with his eyes shut, Rafe recognized his voice. He would never forget the tone of it, or the coldness of the man who’d tried to kill him. He said nothing.
“Open your eyes,” the other man asked.
No.
“Craig? Rafe? My name is Mac. We’re here to help you.”
But fear was choking him and he couldn’t breathe. “No,” he managed between attempts to inhale enough oxygen not to pass out.
“He’s panicking. What the hell did you do, D?”
“Tried to fucking kill him three years ago, remember?”
Author Bio
RJ Scott is the bestselling romance author of over 100 romance books. She writes emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men and women who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn't with family either reading or writing.
The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn't like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.
mailto:rj@rjscott.co.uk
www.rjscott.co.uk/
www.facebook.com/author.rjscott?ref=ts&fref=ts
www.goodreads.com/author/show/3432558.R_J_Scott
twitter.com/Rjscott_author
www.librarything.com/author/scottrj
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Hosted By Signal Boost PromotionsSaturday Story Spotlight - Deacon (Heroes #3) by RJ Scott
Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | KOBO | iTunes
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
Length: 50,000 words approx.
Heroes Series
A Reason To Stay (Book #1) - Amazon US | Amazon UKLast Marine Standing (Book #2) - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Blurb
How can you trust the man who tried to kill you?
Undercover cop Deacon Shepherd lost everything trying to maintain his cover - the man he loved and the future he craved. He walked away and never looked back because it was the only way to keep Rafael alive.
The last thing he needs is to be dragged back in that world, but an attempt on Rafael's life is enough to make him risk his heart again.
Rafael 'Rafe' Ramirez wakes up in the hospital, the victim of a hit and run. He’s horrified when the first face he sees is that of the man who betrayed him and left him for dead three years before. Witness protection had stripped Rafe of his family and friends, and now it seems his sacrifice to bring his Uncle to justice was for nothing.
Someone wants Rafe dead, and the only way he can stay alive is to go with the murdering drug dealer who broke his heart. But how can he ever trust Deacon, and how can Deacon protect Rafe without falling in love all over again?
Excerpt
Rafe opened his eyes, attempting to focus on the ceiling above him. He tried to lift his hand, but it felt as if there was lead in his veins, everything heavy and he couldn’t move. They’d told him he was getting better, so what the hell had happened? Had he relapsed? Why was he convinced that they’d taken him somewhere in an ambulance? That he’d leaned against a leather jacket that smelled of sunshine and soap? He blinked until the ceiling finally coalesced into the tiles he was familiar with.
Only there were no tiles.
Instead, the ceiling was a smooth white, and there were no strip lights, just a lampshade in a curious shade of blue. He blinked again. This didn’t make sense.
But when he opened his eyes, nothing had changed. The ceiling was still white, the lampshade blue, and the drapes at the window matched the shade. The drapes. There were drapes at the window. Confusion morphed into panic and he turned his head to the right to get a better feel for where he was and he saw…him.
Sprawled awkwardly in the chair, his head back, long limbs this way and that, clearly too big for the chair, was a specter from a past that wouldn’t leave him alone.
Deacon.
Intense fear sliced into Rafe.
They’d found him, had him strapped to a bed…was it Deacon who’d tracked him down and driven a car at him? He was paralyzed with a fear that made it hard to breathe, and he yanked at his hand, hoping to escape his restraints, only he wasn’t tied down, there was no rope. Instead his hand came up fast and he rolled sideways. Catching himself and coming off the bed, forgetting the fact that his leg was in a cast and toppling sideways, falling with a crash into a cabinet. He flailed but couldn’t stop himself falling, and he knew this was it – this time he was really going to die.
Deacon was up and at his side in an instant, and Rafe wanted to shut his eyes, wanted to block out seeing Deacon’s face again as he died, but he had to watch. He wanted Deacon to see his fear, and maybe that would stop him; maybe he could make Deacon stop and think.
“Shit, Rafe— Craig,” Deacon said, and reached for him, grasping his arms.
Terror became ice inside him, and Rafe stopped fighting; like a deer caught in headlights, he froze.
“What happened?” A second man stood in the doorway, someone Rafe didn’t know – tall, dark and dangerous-looking. Maybe this new arrival could stop Deacon?
“Help me,” Rafe forced out, looking past Deacon, scrambling to stand as the ice melted and he pushed himself to move.
“He woke up, saw me, and fell out of bed,” Deacon said, and the other man came right in. There were two of them, and there was little Rafe could do to get away. There and then, he screwed his eyes shut; nothing was going to save him now.
But there was no pain, no bullet. Instead, the two men helped him to stand, and then he felt the bed at the back of his thighs and they sat him down.
“Are you okay?” Deacon asked. Even with his eyes shut, Rafe recognized his voice. He would never forget the tone of it, or the coldness of the man who’d tried to kill him. He said nothing.
“Open your eyes,” the other man asked.
No.
“Craig? Rafe? My name is Mac. We’re here to help you.”
But fear was choking him and he couldn’t breathe. “No,” he managed between attempts to inhale enough oxygen not to pass out.
“He’s panicking. What the hell did you do, D?”
“Tried to fucking kill him three years ago, remember?”
Author Bio
RJ Scott is the bestselling romance author of over 100 romance books. She writes emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men and women who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn't with family either reading or writing.
The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn't like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.
mailto:rj@rjscott.co.uk
www.rjscott.co.uk/
www.facebook.com/author.rjscott?ref=ts&fref=ts
www.goodreads.com/author/show/3432558.R_J_Scott
twitter.com/Rjscott_author
www.librarything.com/author/scottrj
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Hosted By Signal Boost PromotionsOctober 18, 2017
MM Goodness Book Review - Bones (Blue Boy #2) by Garrett Leigh
Amazon
What a powerful and compelling book! I kind of jumped into the middle of the series, so I’m going to have to go back and read the first book soon, just to get the feel for what came before since I missed some important things I think.
I really enjoyed this novella about a veteran porn star, Cam, and his love interest, Sasha. The insider view of the gay porn industry was fascinating and quite realistic. The world this is set in shines and shimmers. I felt out of touch with the supporting characters but that’s on me for not picking up the first book, but they were so interesting to me that I need to know more.
The main relationship grows slowly which was a nice break from the “Hey, how you doing? Time to fuck!” attitude the men have on set. This is an emotional read, sincere and honest, and handles a serious medical problem with great tact and professionalism. I’ll be adding the other books to my Kindle darn soon, rest assured!
5 out of 5 stars
October 17, 2017
Improper Fraction Release Day!!
O' Malley and Garrison's book is now live! I hope you enjoy this enemies-to-lovers tale of a math geek and a baseballer. It truly was a work of love. Thank you again for all your continued support!
#MM #NA #EnemiestoLovers #Contemporary
Amazon - http://tinyurl.com/yak94tw7B&N - http://tinyurl.com/ycmtett8Smashwords - http://tinyurl.com/y8sq6wjo
Add to Goodreads – http://tinyurl.com/yal7r3bx
Blurb –
O’Malley Ramsey, math aficionado, grew up next door to Garrison Rook, All-American athlete. While O’Malley dreamed of numbers and kissing Garrison, Garrison’s tastes ran to home runs and hot chicks.
During a family celebration the night before both young men were heading off for college, O’Malley joyously discovers that Garrison isn’t quite as straight as the star athlete had been pretending to be. Vows to return to each other quickly followed a few clumsy kisses in the old treehouse in the Rook’s backyard.
O’Malley came home to Garrison. Garrison never returned to O’Malley.
Four years later, the two ex-friends meet up at a summer camp where O’Malley is serving as a counselor. Garrison is desperate to make things right with his childhood friend, but can O’Malley, still nursing the pain and mistrust of Garrison’s betrayal, ever forgive or love Garrison again?
October 16, 2017
Tuesday Tales - Truck
It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
Today we have a snippet from my current MM hockey romance WIP, Lost in Indigo. In this excerpt, Mat and Indigo are sharing a tender moment alone.
Our word prompt today is “Truck”.
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 want to skip dinner and just hang out in your room?” He asked, his lips softly brushing my ear. My dick was so hard it ached and throbbed. He had to feel the erection pressed against his thigh, but he never commented on it, or tried to get away. If anything, he rolled into me a bit more, snugging his leg tightly to my arousal. “Maybe have some cheese popcorn and watch Breakfast Club?”
“You’ll stay and watch it with me?” I finally worked up the nerve to open my eyes and lower my head. His beautiful face was inches from mine, his nose a breath from my whiskery cheek.
“Sure, I’m kind of crushing on John Bender.”
“The music is hot too,” I said then pressed my mouth to his. The angels sang when he kissed me back. I wrapped my arms around him, tasting his lips and the sweet whisper of strawberry gloss as we lapped and licked at each other’s mouths. We broke apart to pull in air and stare at each other as the sun dipped below the trees.
“Yeah, everything from that era is hot,” he said with a shy smile. He managed to get me out of that damn chair and into bed. Truthfully, it didn’t take much coercion on his part. He suggested and I leaped on the suggestion. I knew we were only lounging and watching an old flick, but that seemed to be more than enough for the night. With his hip next to mine and his gelled head resting on my chest, this might be enough for every night I existed. Lord but I had been righteously trucked by my emotions but it felt so good. Much better than being checked into the boards by some massive Russian or a Swedish grinder.
“Okay, so here’s a question.” He sat up and folded his legs into a lotus, his feet bare now that he’d shed his black boots and socks. “If you were straight which Clubber would you sleep with, Claire or Allison?”
“Andy.”
“No, I said if you were straight.” His smile was contagious.
“Probably Claire.”
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
