V.L. Locey's Blog, page 70

Book Spotlight--Racheline Maltese & Erin McRae`s Room 1024

Please welcome Erin and Racheline back to our little literary cupboard under the stairs! They`re here to talk about their new gay BDSM release, Room 1024.








Room 1024 is about two couples negotiating their lives and partnerships within the familiar -- to them -- structure of BDSM relationships. But as much as BDSM provides Cam and Noah, and Lou and Stephen, a framework for their responsibilities and commitments, in Room 1024, pretty much everyone is in over their heads.
Cam doesn’t expect to run into Lou, his former dom. Lou doesn’t expect to feel uncertain about the end of his and Cam’s relationship years before. Noah really, really wants to explore non-monogamy with his boyfriend Cam. but isn’t quite sure if Cam is making choices that are good for either of them.
Which means that readers don’t have to be into BDSM -- either the community structure, or the leather aspect of it -- to find a relatable story in Room 1024. For those who are into collars and floggers, there are those elements, to be sure. But what Room 1024 is really about is people completely out of their depths, in ways they never anticipated being. And together, Cam, Noah, Lou, and Stephen, have to work together to figure out whether, and how, they are going to move forward, together,
When Cameron takes his submissive boyfriend Noah to a gay men's leather convention in San Francisco, Cam expects to spend the week exploring their relationship and experimenting with non-monogamy. What he doesn't expect is to run into his own former dom, Lou, in an embarrassingly public reunion.
While Noah is enthusiastic about the opportunity to play with the former international leather title-holder, Cam is more wary. He and Lou have unfinished business. A four-way encounter with Lou and his sub Stephen could be great fun—or it could show Noah that Cameron can never quite be the dom he wants and needs.
As Cameron and Noah work through the uncertainties in their relationship, Noah is offered everything he ever wanted, in a completely different way than he ever expected, leading all four men to discover that sometimes the only way forward is to revisit the past.


Erin McRae and Racheline Maltese are authors of the gay romance series Love in Los Angeles, set in the film and television industry -- Starling (September 10, 2014), Doves (January 21, 2015), and Phoenix (June 10, 2015) -- from Torquere Press. Their gay romance novella series Love’s Labours, set in the theater world -- Midsummer (May 2015), and Twelfth Night (Fall 2015), is from Dreamspinner Press. They also have a story in Best Gay Romance 2015 from Cleis Press and edited by Felice Picano.
Racheline is a NYC-based performer and storyteller; Erin is a writer and blogger based in Washington, D.C. They write stories and scripts about the intersection of private lives, fame, and desire. You can find them on the web at http://www.Avian30.com.

Joint Blog: http://Avian30.comJoint Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/Erin.and.RachelineErin’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/erincmcraeRacheline’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/racheline_m

Buy Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Room-1024-Racheline-Maltese-ebook/dp/B00VU85MSG
All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-room1024-1778353-147.html
Torquere: http://www.torquerebooks.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=200&products_id=4373
Excerpt:

“Cameron Evan Beck, get your perfect ass in here!”
Cameron turns to follow the voice, so familiar and fond coming from one of the workshop rooms, before he even thinks about it. It’s only as Lou, completely dressed in leathers and holding a bullwhip in his hand, pulls him into a hug in front of what’s clearly a workshop Lou’s leading, that Cam starts to realize just how fucked he is.
“This,” Lou says, introducing him to the room before Cameron can even manage to make a sound, “is Dr. Cameron Beck, professor of queer studies at Boston University. ” There’s only the slightest of dramatic pauses before he adds, “Cameron used to be my boy.”
With that, Lou gives him a wet, smacking kiss on the cheek.
Cameron can’t help but look sheepish. This is not how he wants to be introduced to a room ever, even if reflex and history leave him a little proud.
Lou calls a break with his class and then turns to Cam again. “Are you here with anyone?” he asks quietly, glancing down appraisingly at the leather band on Cameron’s left wrist. He looks good. Lou’s not tall, but he is broad with wide shoulders, a strong chest and more than a bit of a belly. His charisma is as intense as ever, and although the touch of gray now at his temples is startling to Cam it’s also really hot.
“Yeah,” Cameron says, unsure why he doesn’t mention Noah’s name or any of his many places in Cam’s life. Forming sentences seems really hard.
“Good. Me too,” Lou says and tips his head toward a man who must be in his early thirties sitting on the floor in the corner of the room, quietly rebraiding a whip he’s obviously in the process of repairing.
Cameron feels his jaw tense with unavoidable and incredibly stupid jealousy; his fingers were never nimble enough to be really good at that sort of work.
“Are you competing?” Lou asks as if Cameron has actually been keeping up his end of the conversation.
“No,” Cam says. The whole leatherman beauty pageant competition thing may be fun to watch, but it’s never been among his aspirations. “You?”
“Oh no. Enjoying my emeritus position and a lack of annoying travel way too much. ”
“What about him?” Cameron asks, nodding to the guy. Cameron can imagine him competing for one of the bootblack titles. He’s certainly pretty enough, with tan skin and black hair that falls down into his eyes. He’s lanky, and sits kind of folded in on himself, but that’s attractive, too. Lou would certainly have no problem training him into better posture for the competition.
“What about him?” Lou’s voice is gently mocking.
“Is he competing?”
“No. I don’t feel like sharing him yet. At least not like that. Yours?”
Cameron shakes his head and finally realizes just how much he does not want to be having this conversation. He wants to go back to his hotel room, get Noah, go out and sightsee —-- and pretend none of this world has ever been his.
“We should have dinner,” Lou says. “Call me. I’m in room 1024.”

Throwback Thursday Tunes

Oh yeah man, this takes me back to every high school dance I attended in my freshman year, uh-huh, uh-huh.

Tuesday Tales - Speak

Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales.


 Today we have the next chapter for Wind in White Birch and our word prompt is "Speak". Don`t forget to visit the other talented Tuesday Tales authors. Thanks for stopping by!






            Heating pads and Heavenly Hash work wonders. It had been a God-awful day, made even worse by the blade-like stabs of my grandmother about my "So-Called-Relationship" with Jonah. Lying on the couch, my belly cramp-free and full of ice cream, I stared at Sheldon explaining how to play rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock. Rhett was in his room sound asleep after a hot bath and a long story. I ran my left foot –fuzzy warm in a purple sock – over my right calf. I was too blasé to reach down to scratch the itch. A perfectly arranged crocheted blanket laid over my legs and torso. The TV was set on the perfect volume with the perfect show to make me forget my increasing misgivings.
I knew how terrible this long distance thing Jonah and I are trying to have looks to others. It didn`t look to good to me either at the moment. Maybe I should have kindly declined when he suggested this. How can you build a relationship when you never see each other? I swallowed more ice cream.
For all her gruff ways, I know my grandmother is just trying to protect me. I am and always will be her little Pee-Pee. I mean, this is the woman that used to rap on the bathroom door to check that I hadn`t drowned in the tub when I was seventeen. She had suffered with me when Rhick and I had split. Now, here I was, putting all my hope onto another man who seemed to want to spend more time on his career than on me. I crammed another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. Maybe I should start playing for the other team. At least if I were a lesbian I would understand what was going on in the other person`s head.
I had no clue why Jonah wanted to try to make us work when he knew that damned lodge would ruin things. Another spoonful slid down my throat. Then the phone rang. I glared at it. Not wanting it to wake Rhett, I kicked off the afghan and lunged for the ringing nuisance. I said hello, my eyes locked on the carton of ice cream and spoon that had tumbled to the floor when I got up.“Hey,” Jonah said. He sounded tired. I plopped back down; phone pinned between shoulder and ear, and patted around blindly searching for the spoon on the carpet. “Hey,” I replied cautiously. Maybe I should start distancing myself now, that way when the inevitable happened, I wouldn`t be crushed too badly. I found the spoon, wiped it off on my pajama pants leg then scooped out another glob. All aboard the seven ten to Love Handle Junction! Woo-Woo! “How`s things?” I asked around a mouthful of ice cream.“Good, exhausting, but good.” He exhaled as if he had dropped into a chair. “That lodge needs a lot of work, Dana. I`m conning my family into helping strip and re-varnish the wood floors this weekend."“Oh.” I stared at Penny and Leonard. “That`s nice.” I heard him shuffling on the other end. Probably I just froze his ear solid. I hadn`t meant to sound so cold, honestly.“Is there something – Shit, it`s Valentine`s Day this weekend, isn`t it?” he asked, although he obviously knew the answer. “Dana, I am so sorry. Look, why don`t I just push the floor off until next weekend?”“No, don`t put your work aside for me. I`ll just go to the Moose with my grandmother and dance with Peter Robinson from McKeesport.”Yuck. That was horribly catty even for a purported cougar. There was a long moment when neither of us seemed able to speak. We both said ‘I`m sorry’ at the same time, then we chuckled uncomfortably. I hurried to shovel in another heaping spoonful of marshmallow and chopped almond. “Dana,” Jonah sighed. I could picture him squeezing the bridge of that wide nose of his. I wanted to cry. “Please, I know this is hard, and I probably deserved that for letting us slide to the back burner. I really want to see you. I`ll be down Friday night and we`ll go out. Make reservations at the fanciest place you can find.”“I didn`t mean to be such a bitch,” I said, my throat suddenly thick. “I understand that you need to get the lodge ready for spring. I really do,” I added because Logical Dana really did understand. “I`m scared of drifting apart if we don`t make time for us to be a priority, you know?”“You`re right, and I agree. Dana, I know this sucks. I hate being up here knowing that you`re sitting there expecting me to be wooing you like a good suitor should.”“Wooing would be nice,” I admitted, sliding my feet back under the blanket Aunt Zizzy had made many years ago. Her fingers were too bent and painful with arthritis to crochet anymore. I flicked my gaze from the well-washed afghan to the television. A commercial for laundry soap was on. “You`ll wear a suit and tie, right?”A grumble rolled down from New York State. I had to smile. “Yeah, sure, I said I would,” the man said. “Listen, not to sound pushy or anything, but do you think I could crash at your place after the wining and dining? I`ll sleep on the couch, I just don`t want to make that drive back up here alone after being with you all night. That`s like some sort of cruel and unusual punishment.”“That`ll be fine,” I coolly responded, a flash of carnal excitement beginning to glow in the pit of my belly. “Will you stay all weekend?” I inquired, trying to sound as if it didn`t make two hills of beans to me one-way or another.“Yeah, I`d like to. I mean, if it`s okay with you. We`ll set aside one weekend for just us every month, how does that sound?” “That sounds really wonderful.” My toes curled up. “We can do some fun city stuff while you`re here.”“I don`t care what we do, as long you`re happy. Bear with me here, babe, I`m trying to do this right.”“Do you mean the lodge or our relationship?”“Both,” he admitted candidly. “Fixing the lodge up, finding clients, that`s all pretty cut and dry. But man, this relationship thing is tough. I keep thinking I know what to do, and then I talk to you and I find out I`m screwing things up. You older women are hard to keep placated,” he teased. It was nice to be past the ugliness. “Maybe this weekend you can work on learning how to make an older woman happy,” I said in a low, smoky voice that did not match my clothes or unwashed hair. “Oh, I think I can figure out how to make a cougar purr.”The phone slid from my shoulder into the ice cream tub on my lap.



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 authors of Tuesday Tales.
Tuesday Tales
See you next week!

Never Say Goodbye . . .

Peter Pan




They say that books are like an author`s children. I'm not sure who "They" are, precisely, but the sentiment is accurate. Our books are our children. We coddle them, help them walk and talk, care for them and cradle them. We cry over them and with them. And then, after months or even years, we push them out into the world and pray that people like them and that the trolls don`t eat them alive.

I'm filled with bittersweet emotions as my To Love a Wildcat series comes to its close. Over the course of six books, I have fallen in love with each leading lady and man for different reasons: Viviana for her spunk, Liz for her sweet and tender heart, Maggie for her motherly ways with everyone, Isabelle for her glamour and cool sophistication, and Margarite for her inner strength.

While I know that we will have cameos from the Wildcats and their ladyloves in The Venom series, it leaves me feeling a dull sadness. Much like when your only child goes away to college. You know that you'll see that child again, much less frequently sure, but they haven`t left your life completely. Still it aches though. That is how I feel about the 'Cats and the women that love them. I know that I'll see them soon, but until that time comes my life is a little less full than it used to be.
Once more with feeling fans . . .



Let`s Go Wildcats!!
***

Happy Easter

To those who celebrate have a joyous holiday.

Caroline Bell Foster`s Call Me Lucky

Welcome to the "Call Me Lucky" Mini-Tour featuring author Caroline Bell Foster!Presented by Diverse Book ToursLooking to diversify your TBR shelf? Check out it out on: Here's the Blurb and Excerpt from the book:

What happens with the night team... Felicity ‘Fliss’ Pecora didn’t like people. Her background meant she didn’t trust easily and the night shift suited her perfectly. Forced to go on a team night out she bumps into the one person who knew her at her worst. Teddy couldn’t believe the foul mouthed girl he once knew had changed so little, but still he felt an attraction towards her. He helped her overcome her insecurities and health scare and they were happy and in love until the night their pasts collided. To love her, was to let her go. But could he?Excerpt from "Call Me Lucky"She ran past the strapping black bouncer at the entrance, around the side of the building and past a bunch of wheelie bins before stopping and throwing up against the building. Oh God it was horrible. They didn’t like her. Her body crumpled against the wall and she pressed her forehead into it, feeling the rough brick bite into her skin. Any pain was better than the feeling of her dreams shattering. “Fliss!” It was Mackenzie. She didn’t want to talk to him. Not like this, not when she had failed. It was his fault anyway. She would never have put herself through this if he hadn’t dared her. “Fliss!” “I’m here,” She called out quickly, wiping away the water from her eyes. They were not tears she told herself. “Why did you run you nit?” He admonished softly, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tight. “They loved you.” “Yeah right,” she said pulling free and sniffing loudly. “Loved me enough they couldn’t bring themselves to even clap Mac.” “They didn’t get a—” he didn’t finish what he was about to say as a man in dark jeans, white shirt and dark leather jacket walked towards them. “If I didn’t see it with my own eyes I’d have never believed chavvy Felicity Pecora could render my customers speechless.” Fliss gaped into the darkness knowing that voice, but refusing to believe it. “What? Got nothing to say? This is a first,” he chuckled and, stepping closer, held out his hand to Mackenzie. “Theodore Nicholson. But everyone calls me Teddy,” he explained. “Felicity and I grew up together.” Mackenzie shook his hand. “Mackenzie. Nice to meet you. Are you coming back in Fliss? They want more.” Fliss shook her head in horror. There was no way she was going back inside. She’d done what she said she would do, gave it a go and took a bite of her apple. They didn’t like her and she wasn’t about to make the same mistake again. “Can you give us a minute Mackenzie?” Teddy asked. “Yeah, course mate.” Mackenzie stepped away. “You were amazing Fliss. See ya in a bit.” Could this night get any worse. Teddy Nicholson was stood right in front of her, once again, at the lowest point of her life. World open up and suck me right in, she begged silently. “Well?” He’d used that same word with that same menacing tone that night all those years ago, she remembered with shame. “Well what?” She questioned defensively, stalling. “Well what are you doing in my pub for one thing?” Teddy asked, leaning against the wall and fishing into his jacket pocket for the one cigarette he allowed himself each week. It wasn’t there. She turned to look at him but he was in profile and she could barely see him in the darkness. “I’m in London,” she mumbled. “I noticed.” She was fifteen again. Spotty, ugly and fat. Reduced to the bumbling teenager who’d been crying in the jitty at the back of the house as he’d shouted at her mother for having sex with his brother Marty. He’d threatened to call the police and social services on them. He’d been so angry and had left through the back gate, finding her huddled against the fence. He’d reduced her to even more tears by the time he’d finished with her and when she’d just about crumbled at his feet, he’d taken a huge breath, shoved his hands through his hair and then given her a long pep talk that basically said, if he could get out then so could she. “We won a trip,” she admitted quietly. “From work.” He moved then, turning to stand in front of her, his head cocked to one side as he looked her over. He looked at her feet in sparkly ballet shoes, her legs in dark skinny jeans and a sparkly silvery top with tiny straps over her shoulders. Her hair was in a tight bun, set high on top of her head. It looked like she had a silky doughnut on her head. “You look really nice Felicity.” “What?” She snapped defensively, folding her arms over her chest. “You thought I’d still be wearing my charity labels Teddy?” He frowned down at her. He’d always felt guilty for laying into her the way he had done that night behind her house. She couldn’t help the way her mother was or the environment she lived in. He’d just been so mad that her mother had got money out of his baby brother for sex. Stealing his innocence. “Maybe,” Teddy shrugged. “Why deny it?” Her eyes flashed and she poked him in the chest. “I’m not a kid any more Teddy.” She lifted her chin and stared straight at him. “Really?” He sounded sceptical. “You’ve changed?” He was remembering the scrawny kid with the foul mouth. She took a shuddering breath knowing he didn’t really believe her. Not that she cared what he thought. “Yes really,” she snapped. “Look, can you go and get my friends please. I’m not going back in there,” she admitted tightly. “You were sensational Felicity.” He smiled down at her. “My crowd loved you.” “Yeah right,” she scoffed. “They loved me so much my ears are still ringing from all the appreciation they showed!” She finished on a wobble. She was not going to get emotional, especially in front of him! “And why do you keep saying your crowd?” “I own the place,” he admitted. “And they were struck dumb by how good you sounded and not expecting it. Jesus Christ Fliss! Where does that voice come from? It’s amazing.” “Stop lying Teddy.” “I’m not lying. They want more!” He grabbed her hand. “Come on let’s go.” “Are you fucking crazy?” She yanked violently out of his grasp and stepped away from him. It was beginning to drizzle. It had drizzled that infamous night too. He grinned at her. “Ah, now, here is the Felicity I know,” he laughed. “I could always depend on your, dare I say, vocabulary to lower the tone of any conversation.” “You can say what the fu-hell you like.” Why was she letting herself down like this, she thought, fighting the tears. “Please Teddy, go and get my friends. I’m getting wet.” “Only if you promise to come back tomorrow night and do a whole set. When are you going back up to Notts?” “We’ve got another night,” she said without thinking. “And I’m never going on stage again.” “Come back tomorrow and have dinner with me then.” “No. Why? So you can laugh at me. No thanks,” she questioned and answered all at once. He chuckled deep in his throat. “I want to know what’s been going on with you, I’m curious that’s all.” “You can take you’re curiosity and sh—” “How old are you?” He cut in and watched with amusement as a shade of red touched her cheeks. She’d always been fiery. She’d always fascinated him. Fliss felt like an idiot. She didn’t know why she was behaving like this in front of him. “Twenty.” “Hmm. Come, I’ll buy you a drink before you go.” He took her hand. “I don’t drink.” She grumbled. He stopped walking and turned to look at her in that intent way of his, with his head to one side. He nodded silently and then did what he’d done all those years ago. With one hand he cupped her face and used his thumb to stroke her cheek. A tender moment from him. He shook his head as though getting rid of unwanted thoughts and dragged her inside.
Looking to purchase it now? Click on the purchase links to check out more!About The AuthorCaroline Bell Foster was born in Derby, England and with her family went on a six week holiday to Jamaica. She stayed for 18 years! Ever the adventurer Caroline bought her first pair of high heels in Toronto and traded her pink sunglasses for a bus ride in the Rift Valley at 18. She wrote her first short story on that bus and had it published the following year in a local newspaper. Caroline has always written in one form or another from a very young age. She started her first diary at age 7 and short stories and articles kept her occupied throughout her teens. Feeling the restrictions of short stories for newspapers, Caroline switched to full length novels letting her creativity flow. Caroline is also known as 'The Caribbean's Leading Lady of Love' as her novels Ladies' Jamaican, Caribbean Whisper's, Saffron's Choice tend to reflect her love for the Islands. Caroline's fourth novel Call Me Royal has just been released. The author now lives in Nottingham, England with her husband and two children.

Two Man Advantage Cover Reveal, Exclusive Excerpt and Gift Card Giveaway! **Contest Closed**

If you`re a fan of M/M romance and realistic portrayals of hockey and the men who play it, then Two Man Advantage is a sports romance that you'll want to own. Lay your eyes on this amazing cover!





Two Man Advantage is the first of three stand alone M/M hockey romance novellas contracted with Ellora`s Cave, and it starts the trio of books off with a bang! Here`s a small peek at the prologue showing what gets my man Vic, possibly one of my favorite leading men, booted back to the minors. Victor is also the first bisexual leading man that I've penned. If  you are of a delicate nature then perhaps you shouldn`t read the excerpt or the book. As the blurb says, there is no pulling of punches where Victor Kalinski is concerned.



***
Blurb: Victor Kalinski, all-star forward for the Boston Barracudas, is one of the biggest jerks in professional hockey. Before long his aggressive attitude gets him shipped off to play in the minor leagues.

Furious, he takes to the ice with equal amounts of skill and scathing sarcasm, which doesn’t win him any friends—except for good-natured alternate captain Daniel Arou. He won’t take any of Vic’s crap, and he won’t take no for an answer.
But Vic’s troublemaking is pulling his career one way while Dan’s talent is pushing his in the other. However much they scorch the sheets, they might soon be separated by more than Vic’s fear of being hurt.
Inside Scoop:  This book contains scorching gay sex and a heaping helping of no-holds-barred snark between hot hockey heroes who don’t pull their punches.
A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave***
R-rated Excerpt: (Mature Language)


 “Victor, are you impressed by the outstanding shots from point that Darren Wilson executed during tonight’s game?”
I looked up from my sock-covered feet to the obese reporter. His brow was speckled with perspiration, there was mustard dried on his pornstache and his breath reeked of garlic. Thirty men stood around me, eyes wide with expectation. The buzz of after-game interviews filled the dressing room. Sweat ran down the crack of my ass. I hated talking to the press still soaked in game-sweat. 
Fuckers were like miserable old vultures, sitting on the sidelines of pro games, stuffing fried sausage sandwiches into their mouths while dreaming up asinine questions. The fat shits couldn’t play chess without hyperventilating, so they lived vicariously through the professional athletes they harangued.Was it asking too much to be able to wash my balls beforethe flock of buzzard descended?   
               “Wilson is a good player but it was me feeding the puck to him that got that hat trick. Jim, you really need to find a container of fucking breath mints,” I moaned, shoving the fat bastard back a few steps. I mean, this is my cubicle with my clothes hanging in it. Who the double-shit wants to smell like fat, garlic-laced reporter when they’re dressed?
A subtle wave of disbelief mixed with lust went through the press crowded around me. Yeah, they were stunned that someone had told them the truth. They were also creaming their pants over their next sound-bite for the eleven o’clock news. I’d only said what everyone knew. Wilson wouldn’t have made half the goals he had if not for me shoving pucks at him all night.
“Kalinski!” someone shouted from the back of the pack. I wiggled around on the hard plastic bench, trying to see which gossip-whore had called my name. The dressing room was mobbed, as it always was after a Boston Barracudas game. We were odds-on favorites to win the cup this year, and my skills as center on the first line were a large part of those high odds. “Kalinski, can you substantiate the rumor that you were seen with Roxanne Mikkola last night?”
Shit. I turned my head slightly, just enough to see if Edvard Mikkola, our backup goalie, had heard the question. Seeing the big Finn sizing me for a pine box, I had to assume that he had.
“You heard wrong,” I stated loudly, “I was with Pete Dubroski’s daughter last night. Why would I pass up cherry for something that has fruit flies?” I chuckled, because it was a joke, folks.
The D-man came through the mob like a juiced-up rhino, which was a pretty good description of the guy to be honest. The press cleared a path, or was knocked aside, take your pick. I got to my feet and met the charging defenseman with a clinch around his middle. It didn’t stop him but it slowed him down. Then we both got tackled by an irate Finn.
Just for the record, I want it stated that I can handle myself. I’m a six-foot-three-inch, one-hundred-and-ninety-pound redheaded Pole who was raised in Englewood, Chicago by a single mother who spent her nights with Jack Daniels. For the unenlightened, Englewood has the distinction of being consistently rated one of the worst neighborhoods of the Windy City. I grew up learning how to fight, win face-offs and lead breakouts.  Being blindsided by a goalie who was still in pads while wrestling with an angry dad wasn’t a fair fight. Just so everyone knows the situation. It was, however, the fight that left me with a black eye and a new team to play with. 
Some fucking people just can’t take a joke.



 ***

Two Man Advantage is available for preorder at Ellora`s Cave but will be available at all major retailers soon.

Ellora`s Cave

***
And now for the gift card giveaway! To enter for a chance to win a $20 Amazon GC, I'm asking that you skate on over to Goodreads and put Two Man Advantage on your "Want to Read" shelf. After you do that, come back and tell me "I added Vic and Dan!" and your name will go into the drawing. Please remember to leave your contact information. I can`t get in touch with you if you don`t leave your email address. If you don`t leave your contract info I will have to skip over your entry, so make sure to leave that addy!

Here`s the link to Vic and Dan`s book on Goodreads-

Two Man Advantage on Goodreads

The contest will close on Sunday, April 5th at Midnight. After the entries are verified I'll then pick a winner on Monday, April 6th. Good luck!

Skate hard and love deeply,


V.L.

Two Man Advantage Cover Reveal, Exclusive Excerpt and Gift Card Giveaway!

If you`re a fan of M/M romance and realistic portrayals of hockey and the men who play it, then Two Man Advantage is a sports romance that you'll want to own. Lay your eyes on this amazing cover!





Two Man Advantage is the first of three stand alone M/M hockey romance novellas contracted with Ellora`s Cave, and it starts the trio of books off with a bang! Here`s a small peek at the prologue showing what gets my man Vic, possibly one of my favorite leading men, booted back to the minors. Victor is also the first bisexual leading man that I've penned. If  you are of a delicate nature then perhaps you shouldn`t read the excerpt or the book. As the blurb says, there is no pulling of punches where Victor Kalinski is concerned.



***
Blurb: Victor Kalinski, all-star forward for the Boston Barracudas, is one of the biggest jerks in professional hockey. Before long his aggressive attitude gets him shipped off to play in the minor leagues.

Furious, he takes to the ice with equal amounts of skill and scathing sarcasm, which doesn’t win him any friends—except for good-natured alternate captain Daniel Arou. He won’t take any of Vic’s crap, and he won’t take no for an answer.
But Vic’s troublemaking is pulling his career one way while Dan’s talent is pushing his in the other. However much they scorch the sheets, they might soon be separated by more than Vic’s fear of being hurt.
Inside Scoop:  This book contains scorching gay sex and a heaping helping of no-holds-barred snark between hot hockey heroes who don’t pull their punches.
A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave***
R-rated Excerpt: (Mature Language)


 “Victor, are you impressed by the outstanding shots from point that Darren Wilson executed during tonight’s game?”
I looked up from my sock-covered feet to the obese reporter. His brow was speckled with perspiration, there was mustard dried on his pornstache and his breath reeked of garlic. Thirty men stood around me, eyes wide with expectation. The buzz of after-game interviews filled the dressing room. Sweat ran down the crack of my ass. I hated talking to the press still soaked in game-sweat. 
Fuckers were like miserable old vultures, sitting on the sidelines of pro games, stuffing fried sausage sandwiches into their mouths while dreaming up asinine questions. The fat shits couldn’t play chess without hyperventilating, so they lived vicariously through the professional athletes they harangued.Was it asking too much to be able to wash my balls beforethe flock of buzzard descended?   
               “Wilson is a good player but it was me feeding the puck to him that got that hat trick. Jim, you really need to find a container of fucking breath mints,” I moaned, shoving the fat bastard back a few steps. I mean, this is my cubicle with my clothes hanging in it. Who the double-shit wants to smell like fat, garlic-laced reporter when they’re dressed?
A subtle wave of disbelief mixed with lust went through the press crowded around me. Yeah, they were stunned that someone had told them the truth. They were also creaming their pants over their next sound-bite for the eleven o’clock news. I’d only said what everyone knew. Wilson wouldn’t have made half the goals he had if not for me shoving pucks at him all night.
“Kalinski!” someone shouted from the back of the pack. I wiggled around on the hard plastic bench, trying to see which gossip-whore had called my name. The dressing room was mobbed, as it always was after a Boston Barracudas game. We were odds-on favorites to win the cup this year, and my skills as center on the first line were a large part of those high odds. “Kalinski, can you substantiate the rumor that you were seen with Roxanne Mikkola last night?”
Shit. I turned my head slightly, just enough to see if Edvard Mikkola, our backup goalie, had heard the question. Seeing the big Finn sizing me for a pine box, I had to assume that he had.
“You heard wrong,” I stated loudly, “I was with Pete Dubroski’s daughter last night. Why would I pass up cherry for something that has fruit flies?” I chuckled, because it was a joke, folks.
The D-man came through the mob like a juiced-up rhino, which was a pretty good description of the guy to be honest. The press cleared a path, or was knocked aside, take your pick. I got to my feet and met the charging defenseman with a clinch around his middle. It didn’t stop him but it slowed him down. Then we both got tackled by an irate Finn.
Just for the record, I want it stated that I can handle myself. I’m a six-foot-three-inch, one-hundred-and-ninety-pound redheaded Pole who was raised in Englewood, Chicago by a single mother who spent her nights with Jack Daniels. For the unenlightened, Englewood has the distinction of being consistently rated one of the worst neighborhoods of the Windy City. I grew up learning how to fight, win face-offs and lead breakouts.  Being blindsided by a goalie who was still in pads while wrestling with an angry dad wasn’t a fair fight. Just so everyone knows the situation. It was, however, the fight that left me with a black eye and a new team to play with. 
Some fucking people just can’t take a joke.



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Two Man Advantage is available for preorder at Ellora`s Cave but will be available at all major retailers soon.

Ellora`s Cave

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And now for the gift card giveaway! To enter for a chance to win a $20 Amazon GC, I'm asking that you skate on over to Goodreads and put Two Man Advantage on your "Want to Read" shelf. After you do that, come back and tell me "I added Vic and Dan!" and your name will go into the drawing. Please remember to leave your contact information. I can`t get in touch with you if you don`t leave your email address. If you don`t leave your contract info I will have to skip over your entry, so make sure to leave that addy!

Here`s the link to Vic and Dan`s book on Goodreads-

Two Man Advantage on Goodreads

The contest will close on Sunday, April 5th at Midnight. After the entries are verified I'll then pick a winner on Monday, April 6th. Good luck!

Skate hard and love deeply,


V.L.

Throwback Thursday Tunes

What a great sound these gents had! Love the Motown sound. What`s your fave Four Tops tune?

Early to Rise Release Day!

Yee-haw! Grab your eReader and do-si-do to your favorite eBook retailer for your copy! This M/M rom-com is pulling in rave reviews from advance reader copies sent out to reviewers. Don`t miss out on the romance and rural humor that spurred Becky at Bike Book Reviews to give it 5 stars and say this--


"Long story short, you have to read this "little good time" and I promise you will love it, and fall for both of these lovely boys, and of course you will love the coffee addicted swine also (messed ya up didn't I :p). Thanks V.L., for giving us a heartfelt entree of a read with a healthy side of giggles!"






Torquere Press
Amazon
Blurb:
There are few things worse than being left at the altar by the man you thought loved you. Just ask Simon Wilder. He knows all about it. He also knows a thing or two about getting fired. It`s been a rotten week for Simon and making major life decisions during such turmoil may not be the wisest thing Simon has ever done. Or is it?

Packing up his clothes, his collection of Tony Orlando CD`s, and his cat, Sambuca, Simon leaves the hustle and bustle of Philadelphia behind and heads out to live on his uncle Tiberius` farm in the mountains of Pennsylvania. Starting over on the farm where he vacationed once as a child is a going to be just what the doctor ordered, as long as that doctor is the good-looking large animal veterinarian, Gentry Martin. Is a sexy country vet the cure for a love-sick city boy?

Thank you so much for your continued support! My readers are the best readers in the world and I love each and every one of you. 
V.L.