V.L. Locey's Blog, page 56

Sunday Ramble - Love, Marriage, and Hockey

When we fall in love, it's a wondrous, giddy thing. We spin in circles of merriment, sigh a lot, get rushes of excitement just hearing our beloved's name, and feel lightheaded when in the company of that special someone. Not unlike being a hockey fan now that I think about it.
Little things that are cute and endearing when dating become measurably less cute after twenty-four years of wedded bliss, trust me. Now don't get me wrong, I love my husband. He is one the funniest, hardest-working and loving men on the planet. He is also a rabid channel-flipper. I, on the other hand, find a channel and then lay the remote down because I won't need it until my show, or game, is over.
This is not just a sports thing with him, this is any show we watch. Things get downright nasty during The Walking Dead when we come back from a channel flip to discover we've missed something vital and a leading character is now dinner.
So, imagine trying to watch a hockey game with him in control of the remote. It's taxing to put it mildly. He dislikes listening to the chit-chat between periods so he flips the channel. As soon as he does this, my gaze jackknifes to the clock on the wall. And yes, he also does this when his Bruins are playing, so it's not just to bust this Rangers fans chops. 
"The game will be back on in twenty minutes," I remind him.
"Yep."
I bury my nose into my Kindle and pretend I'm not checking the tiny clock on my e-Reader every two minutes. When the timer in my head goes off I clear my throat.
"I know, we have time," he says then continues to watch the middle of a movie he's seen forty-two times before.
"Honey, no we don't have time. Can we check the game?"
I can hear his eyes roll but he flips and finds a commercial. Back we go to the movie, or some show about how they make light bulbs, or the series starring two yahoos with metal detectors. I'm getting antsy now.
"Babe, the game must be back on. Can we pleaseflip back?"
"Yep, right after I see how they put the wire in the light bulb. Isn't that interesting?"
"No, darling, it really isn't. The Rangers are interesting."
He huffs dramatically and flips back to the game. We find that we have missed five minutes, fifteen goals have been scored, a major fight has occurred, and Kevin Kline had broken into an impromptu rendition of I'm Just a Gal Who Cain't Say No from Oklahomaafter talking with Pierre McGuire in a rare mid-game on-ice musical interview.
"Huh, guess it came back on sooner than it usually does," he says.
I cannot type what I say in return.

Throwback Thursday Tune

One of my daughter's favorite movies, this song just had to be part of our spooky song fest!

Tuesday Tales - Box

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.


Today we have the next issue in my historical M/M romance, Dear Jon, which is set in 1945. Every issue of this serial will be under 1500 words so they're quick reads.  Our word prompt today is 'Box'. This story contains mature language and gay sexual situations. If that offends now would be the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales offering. 
Don`t forget to visit the other talented Tuesday Tales authors. Thanks for stopping by!




            The smell of fried foods made me salivate. A radio back in the kitchen was playing Flamingo, an oldie by Duke Ellington. Andrew climbed up onto a round stool. No sooner had his ass hit the padded seat and he started spinning around in circles. The man at the counter glanced from his newspaper at the kid whirling like a top beside him.
I was struck by his looks right off. Black hair shot through with silver worn short, eyes as grey as the skies overhead, hint of dark stubble, straight nose, killer jaw, thick neck, broad shoulders covered in a blue and white plaid shirt tucked into dark grey slacks. Just the type I would run after if this wasn`t Hannity Hills. Shit, I could even see the tuft of dark chest hair escaping from where it was left open to show the top of his white undershirt. Hairy men were all that and a Bit O` Honey for me. I placed my hand on Andrew`s leg as he careened past. The spinning stopped instantly. The boy made a snorting sound and tipped into the man trying to eat his pork chops.
“Sorry,” I gasped, lurching over to grab Andrew before he took a dizzy header onto the floor. The waitress exited the kitchen, a plump white woman in her mid-fifties with thick glasses and a kind smile.
“No problem,” he said, a smile playing on lips as full and plump as Betty Grable`s. His voice was rich and deep. I took my seat once again, smiled at the man and then at the waitress. My nephew was having trouble sitting upright, so I held onto the back of his shorts until his head stopped moving in circles. I gave the menu a fast glance.
“I`ll have the meat pie and coffee. What do you want, Andy?” I glanced over at the boy. The man with the stormy eyes was now reading the paper again.
“A Coca-Cola!” Andrew announced. I met the questioning look from the waitress in her neat blue uniform with a frilly white apron.
“Give him a meat pie too and a slice of apple pie for both of us,” I said as I slid the paper menu back to the waitress. She got us our drinks and then disappeared back into the kitchen. Andrew was kicking the counter. I told him to stop. He sipped his Coca-Cola. He dribbled soda on his bare knees. He slid off the stool while I was stirring some sugar into my coffee. After I caught him racing to the front door and was seated again, I heard the newspaper reading man to the left was chuckling at our show.
“He reminds me of my sister`s son,” he said, “nothing but energy. Names Ross Coleman, I own a small shop in town.” He offered me his hand. I took it. His palm was rough, his grip firm and confident. We shook as I introduced Andrew and myself. “Are you from around here?”
“Something along those lines,” I mumbled into my amazingly good cup of Joe. Our meals came then, and any further discussion with Ross Coleman with the slate eyes came to an abrupt halt. I spent the next twenty minutes trying to get Andrew to eat more than four spoons of the superbly seasoned meat pie. He was having none of it. All he wanted was Coca-Cola. Giving up, I let him suck down the bubbly brown treat. Ross had finished his meal, and with a "Pleasure to meet you and the boy" tugged his shirt collar up, slid on a rather battered gray jacket, and laid fifty cents on the counter for his meal and the tip. Out we went into the rain, my eyes rather glued to his well-crafted rump.
Andrew grew petulant as he finished off his second Coca-Cola. His sudden rush of energy baffled me. If I had acted like that my father would have boxed my ears. I gave the waitress two dollars and told her to keep the change. Lord knows she deserved the hefty tip for putting up with the cranky kid for the past half hour. The rumble of the Ford pickup taking off filled the café. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I had never told Ross that I had dented his door.
Grabbing the whining monster like a football, I raced out into the rain, our jackets hanging inside the café momentarily forgotten.
“Damn,” I grumbled as the Ford bounced back towards town.  
Andrew, the magpie, began saying ‘Damn’ repeatedly as the rain drenched us in no time flat. Guess there was nothing for it but to try to find the dapper man tomorrow when we went to town.
            The waitress opened the door and handed our jackets out to us.
            “Damn!” Andrew shouted at her in way of thanks.

Copyright 2013 ©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
See you next week!

International Hockey Romance Month Author/Book Spotlight - Mary Smith

I'm thrilled to have Mary Smith here today. Not only is a lovely person, a hard-worker, and a hilarious woman, she is also the owner of my new publishing house, Gone Writing Publishing. You'll want to check out all of her hockey romance novels, but don't forget to look into her other works as well!







Best Selling Author, Mary Smith, has been coming up with stories her whole life. She has written A HOCKEY TUTOR, THE ICE SERIES, as well as co-authored with Lindsay Paige THE PENALTY KILL TRILOGY and OH CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN SERIES. When not busy writing or rooting for the Chicago Blackhawks you can find her with her nose stuck in her Kindle.You can visit her website at: www.authormarysmith.blogspot.com Follow her on Twitter: @maryms1980 Or Facebook: www.facebook.com/authormarysmith



All Books by Mary Smith:Melting Away the Ice (Ice Series #1)Breaking Away the Ice (Ice Series #2)Shattering the Ice (Ice Series #3) Thawing the Ice (Ice Series Novella)A Hockey TutorAlways ForeverDREAM



All Books with Lindsay Paige:Breakaway (Penalty Kill Trilogy #1)Off the Ice (Penalty Kill Trilogy #2)Game Winner (Penalty Kill Trilogy #3)Looking for You (Oh Captain My Captain #1)A Hockey Player’s Proposal (Oh Captain My Captain #2)Finding Carson Lett (Oh Captain My Captain #3)Let’s Be Crazy (Oh Captain My Captain #4)Their New Beginning (Oh Captain My Captain #5)You and Me, Forever (Oh Captain My Captain #6)Tainted (Oh Captain My Captain #7)  

Sunday Ramble - Critter Conversations

I recall in one of my reviews for Early to Rise, a reader called me to task because the leading man had a conversation with a pig. I admit to being kind of taken aback by that comment for a short while. Did the reader not think that people spoke to pigs or to animals in general? Pigs are highly intelligent animals. We've owned pigs and trust me, we talked to them and they talked back. 
As a farming type woman, I can assure you that not only do people talk to pigs, cows, sheep, goats and poultry, we sometimes have running conversations with them. Then there are the inside pets. Heck, there are days that I feel like Dr. Doolittle!



I can't imagine that someone who owns a cat or dog doesn't talk to them. Here are a few of the recent discussions I've had with various animals on the hillside farm--
Chicken chat-
Me- *bending over to check for eggs in the nest box* What did you lovely ladies leave for me today?Hodor (my rooster) - Cock-a-doodle-doo! Me-Did you have to crow right in my ear? Good golly, Mister.Hodor- Buck, buck, buck, buck, buck, buuuuuuuuck . (This is what I call the 'Hey girls, come see what I have' drop-the-wing song and dance of a rooster. Any of you who own a rooster know what I'm talking about)Me-As long as you mean it then you're forgiven. (I just love my rooster.)



Dog speak-
Me-Stop it! The cat is not a chew toy! Maisy- Woof, woof, woof! Me-Don't sass back. I mean it.

Cat convo-
Lucius- *muffled meow at the front door* Me-Whatever that is in your mouth it had better be dead. Lucius- *muffled meow around a very alive mouse* Me-It's not dead! Kill it!Lucius- Meow? *drops mouse which then runs under house* Me-Good job. Way to go you. Two big thumbs up. Lucius- Me-ow!
More dog speak-
Me-Maisy, where on earth did you get that?!Maisy- *spits rotten old goat horn onto front porch* Arf! Arf!
Duck and goose conversation-
Me-Yes! Yes! I know it's dinner time but I'm busy at the moment. Ducks/Geese- *standing at the back door * QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! HONK! HONK! Me-Everyone is so darn pushy around here. Ducks/Geese- HONK! HISS! HONK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK!


More cat chat--
Me- Lu-Lu, if you move your tail I can close the bathroom door and take a shower. Lu-Lu- Squeak. (Lu-Lu doesn't meow, she squeaks)Me-Just move your tail a few inches, please.Lu-Lu- Squeak, squeak. Me-*nudges cat butt with toe to remove long plume-like tail from door*Lu-Lu- HISS! SPIT! CLAW! ATTITUDE! ANGER! DISGRUNTLED GLARE! Me-Owie.
Yet another round of dog speak-
Me-Maisy, what are you doing back there?Maisy- Woof? Me-I don't believe you. Are you in the litter box again?Maisy- Woof, woof! Me-Oh my gosh, why, why, why do you do that? *begins gagging*Maisy- WOOF?



Do you talk to your critters? If so I would love to hear about it. I can't be the only one that does this. I hope.

Clean Sweep Cover Reveal!

Clean Sweep is back with a new look and a lower price with the same sinful pleasures!



Amazon-http://tinyurl.com/o6x4cqyB&N-http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/clean-sweep-v-l…/1122731369…

Throwback Thursday Tune

It would be a crime not to include this film snippet in any Halloween song celebration! Who out there doesn't just love Beetlejuice and the Banana Boat song?!

Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.


Today we have another snippet from Dear Jon. It`s our picture prompt and the excerpt must reflect the image and be under 300 words.  Don`t forget to visit the other talented Tuesday Tales authors. Thanks for stopping by!


                Guess I should have realized the only thing open between Betty`s bungalow and Hannity Hills proper would be The Blue Hen Cafe, one of those mom and pop diners that had changed hands during the depression. I parked beside a dark blue Ford pickup. The rain was coming down so hard the diner was lost in the deluge. Andrew got up onto his knees. His hair was a mess. I didn`t have a comb and I didn`t think the kid would let me tidy it for him anyway.
                “Momma buyed me soda here,” Andy whispered. My sight returned to the restaurant.
                “I wonder if they still make those meat pies,” I said, the memory vividly resting on my tongue. My stomach rumbled. Andrew looked down at my gut in admiration.
                “That was loud,” he said. I nodded.
                “Yep, guess I`m hungry too. Want to make another run for it?” I inquired, placing my wet, goose-pinched hat on his head to hide his hair. He nodded just as I knew he would. Taking his sweaty hand in mine, I threw open my car door. It smacked the blue Ford beside me. I grimaced at the sound then slammed the door shut and ran, dragging a kid in my wake. Andrew managed to hit a few mud puddles as we ran.
                Stepping inside, I was greeted by so many smells, sounds, and aromas it was nearly overwhelming. The diner was laid out real sharp. Someone had done some renovations recently. The counter was brand new by the looks, dark blue with white flecks. The tabletops matched the counter. Booths were lined up by the front wall. Short blue curtains hung on the windows.
                “Where do you want to sit?” I asked taking note of the one man at the counter as we peeled off our soaking wet jackets. Andrew dashed to the counter.


Copyright 2013 ©by V.L. Locey
*~*~*
Click on the link below to return to the Tuesday Tales main blog for more great reads from the talented Tuesday Tales authors.
Tuesday Tales
See you next week!

International Hockey Romance Month Author/Book Spotlight-Jennifer Lazirus

Hockey, hockey, hockey! It's back. Finally! This week the NHL regular season begins. And what better way to celebrate the return of pro hockey then to have hockey romance authors visiting? For the next several weeks, every Monday will be a different hockey romance author. Make sure to drop by weekly to see who it is. This week the delightful Jennifer Lazirus is here to tell us all about her upcoming book, Lucky Save - The Las Vegas Kingsnakes, Book #2. 




Lucky Save - The Las Vegas Kingsnakes, Book #2 by Jennifer Lazaris 


***Releases this October***

Lucky Save will be available at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, and Apple for your reading pleasure. :-)

Blurb:All Penelope Foster wanted was a vacation in Vegas to escape a family tragedy. But when her car breaks down in the middle of the desert, it seems her holiday is destined for disaster before it even begins.Until he roars up.Tall and tattooed West Keller is a famous hockey player and notorious playboy. Penelope isn’t the kind of girl who would normally catch his eye, but something about the cute, vulnerable blonde appeals to him. He offers her a ride into the city, with the expectation of never seeing her again. So what harm can one little lie really do?Once Penelope steps into his truck, she’s swept up in the passion and excitement of their intense fling-a fling that’s quickly growing into something deeper as they discover they have way more in common than hot sex. But when the chips are down, Penelope discovers that not everything about West is what it seems. She has to choose whether to walk away and cut her losses, or see it through and go all in with no fear. Can she beat the odds and find true love in Vegas?

Please check out my blog for a special sneak peek of chapter one!https://jenniferlazaris.wordpress.com/2015/10/03/chapter-one-of-lucky-save/




About the author:
Jennifer spent most of her twenties deflecting shots in front of a deck hockey net, writing stories, learning how to code and holding out for a hero.

Now, she spends her days hunched over the keyboard, combining her love of hockey and writing into romance novels. 

A native of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Jennifer's a die-hard Penguins fan who lives in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. She takes her life in her hands every time she wears her Sidney Crosby jersey in the heart of Leafs Nation, but figures it's worth the risk to represent her beloved black and gold.

She found her very own hockey-obsessed Canadian hero ten years ago, and married him. Her days off are spent spoiling three ridiculously adorable cats, reading and obsessively watching hockey, Empire and Sons of Anarchy reruns. 


Find me online and make sure to say hello!
Blog: http://jenniferlazaris.wordpress.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjenniferlazarisTwitter: @jenlazaris

Sunday Ramble - Signs of Fall

Can you believe that it's the first week of October already? Where the heck did the time go!? I must confess that I do love autumn even though I know that winter is riding in on fall's coat tails. All around us the seasons are changing and those changes are showing up here on the hillside farm. I thought I would share a few sure signs that fall is indeed here in the Laurel Highlands.


One sure sign that autumn has arrived can be seen if you step out onto my front porch and take a peek at the mountain across the creek.



All those lovely leaves have started to tumble from the trees. Lucius is sharing the front porch with some of the latest arrivals.



A sure sign that the season has shifted from summer to fall is a full woodshed and an archery target set up and in heavy use.



And my poor chickens are in the last stages of their molt. The poor girl standing in front of the young Rouen drake still hasn't grown the feathers in on the back of her head. I may need to knit her a cap if she doesn't feather in soon!



What are some of the signs of fall that you see in your area?