V.L. Locey's Blog, page 93
May 21, 2014
Throwback Thursday Tune
They`re the Beatles. They`re animated. And they`re singing!
Has any movie ever been as trippy? Drop a comment if you think things were a lot more technicolor back in the sixties.
Has any movie ever been as trippy? Drop a comment if you think things were a lot more technicolor back in the sixties.
May 20, 2014
Lydia Michaels Returns
I`m tickled to be able to welcome Lydia back to our happy little corner of the interweb. She`s here to fill us in on her new M/M release, Forsaking Truth.
*~*
Title: Forsaking Truth {McCullough Mountain 5}
Author: Lydia Michaels
Author email: Lydia@LydiaMichaels.org or Publicist@LydiaMichaels.org
Genre: Erotic Romance (MM)
Heat Level:Romance (graphic) (MM)
Book Length: 224 pages
Date of Publication: May 5, 2014 (Available on Amazon, B&N, etc. 5/13/14)
(Please Note: ARCs can be provided for previous titles in a series upon request)
Cover (PDF Attached)
Blurb:
His greatest conflict in life is that another man loves him unconditionally. He’ll forsake everything before he’ll come to face who he truly is.
When Luke McCullough’s athletic potential is diminished by a field injury, his pride pays the price. Returned to Center County a broken man, the long road to recovery seems dreary and overshadowed by opportunities lost, until he meets Tristan Hughes.
Tristan came to Center County to escape his past and start anew, but nothing prepared him for Luke. Intrigued, Tristan cautiously gets to know this powerful man, only to fall head over heels for the vulnerable soul hiding behind all that intensity and drive.
Luke has never been interested in men, so when he can’t get Tristan out of his head he doubles his efforts to fight the inevitable. Stolen glances lead to heated encounters, followed by punishing regret, but Luke’s inability to face the truth of who he really is may cost him the only happiness he’s ever known.
Buy Links:
Publisher: http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=870
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lydia-Michaels/e/B0071ZV41G
· B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/lydia-michaels
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/lydia-michaels/id577453828?mt=11
· Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/Search?query=Lydia%20Michaels&fcsearchfield=Author
· ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Lydia+Michaels
Excerpt: (Adult Language)
He stepped close and his palm curled around the back of Luke’s neck. A split second later—too quick to pull back—Tristan’s lips met his.Luke grunted and jerked away at the first stroke of the other guy’s tongue. “What the hell are you doing?”“I…I thought you wanted me to. You touched me.”He frowned. No he didn’t. Yes. You fucking did. You’re still touching him. He jerked his hand away. It was the beer! Shit, he needed to lay off the drinking.“Luke, look, it’s okay. I just thought with everything today—the shower—clearly I misread—”“Are you dating my cousin?” he suddenly blurted.“What? No. Ryan’s straight.” Tristan’s answer shouldn’t have relieved him, but it did.“You’re gay?”Luke was distracted as Tristan took a deep breath. Tanned skin shadowed with hair drew his gaze to the cut of his chest glistening with a hint of sweat or maybe spilt beer. “Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be an issue. If you aren’t interested, we can act like nothing happened here and just go back to five minutes ago.”“Does Ryan know you’re gay?”“Yeah. He’s fine with it. Most people are. It’s not like I openly maul anything with a dick. I have a specific taste.”“Me?”“Well…” He turned and forked a hand through his hair. “You’re very handsome. Christ, I already saw you naked.”And for some reason Luke had purposely made sure he’d seen him. He wanted him to look, like it was some pissing match or something. Thinking back, it was stupid and nothing like he’d ever done before.“I’ll go,” Tristan said, grabbing his soiled shirt. Luke caught his arm. “Wait.”“For what, Luke? I clearly misread the situation.”“Did you think I was gay?”“No, but then…I don’t know. I thought maybe you were bi. You hear things about football players playing grab ass in the locker rooms and shit. I don’t know what the fuck I thought. Then you touched me and I just…stopped thinking.”“You like being with men?” Well, no shit. That’s pretty much what it was to be gay. He couldn’t fathom it. Did Tristan take the top or bottom? He didn’t look gay, whatever that looked like.“Well…yeah.”“What do you do with them?”“Jesus, Luke, everything. What do you want to know?”“Does it hurt?”“Fuck no. It feels fantastic.”He stepped back, needing to do something, but not the type to fidget. “Have you ever been with a woman?”Tristan’s expression became serious. “No. It’s always been guys.”“This is crazy. I need a beer.” He turned and pulled out a new bottle. He’s fucking gay.Luke never met a gay person that he knew of. He lived in Center County, not the most liberal place. “Man, you picked the wrong town to move to.”“Tell me where the right town is.” Tristan stepped into the den. “I’m just another guy, Luke. I just wanna work and live and have the right to the same happiness everyone else is looking for in this fucked up world.”Luke’s gaze moved over his chest. There were over a dozen scars. “That’s why your dad beat you, for being gay?”“Yeah.” There was so much gravity in that one little word something in Luke broke.“I’m sorry.”“I’m not. Taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. No matter how hard someone hits me, or shuns me, or calls me ugly names, I’m still me. They don’t have to like it. They don’t have to live with it, but I do. And I refuse to be something I’m not.”Luke dropped into the chair. “How old were you?”“When I realized I was gay? Probably four.”“No, when your dad did that to you.”“Eighteen. Five days later my lover tried to kick the shit out of me in front of the whole school and called me everything he was afraid to call himself. Three months later I left for college and never looked back.”Holy shit. “Did you ever think it would be easier to be straight?”“I’ve thought lots of things. Sometimes I think it would be fun to fly, but that doesn’t make it possible.”“No women?”“No. Only men.”“I’m not gay.” Luke stated, needing to hear the affirmation. Tristan nodded. “And that’s cool. I didn’t mean to…”“Right.”The silence stretched between them. Finally, Tristan said, “I’m gonna take off.”“Okay.” He was in a daze. This was some heavy shit.“Thanks for…”“Thanks for your help.”They nodded at one another and Tristan slipped on his wet shirt. A moment later the door closed.Luke sat there for probably five minutes just digesting everything. He liked Tristan. A lot. Just not in any sort of romantic way. He didn’t swing that way. He liked pussy. He was a boob man or maybe a leg man. Definitely wasn’t a gay man.He stood and went to hit the lights. He was way past the legal limit and needed to sleep. Maybe things would be clearer in the morning.He dropped the empties in the bin and went to lock up. As he approached the door it suddenly opened. He stilled and Tristan stepped back in. Why was he back? His return sent a rush of blood pumping through Luke’s veins and his breathing picked up.“I don’t have a car here.”Right. He’d picked him up. “I’ve been drinking.”“I could call a cab.”“Or you could crash here.” He hadn’t thought about his offer, it just slipped out.“Or I could crash here.”Luke stared at him and waited. Sure, Tristan could crash. He could sleep on the recliner. Luke swallowed. He felt like he was doing something very wrong. Part of him was glad he couldn’t drive. So glad, that when the thought of calling Sheilagh and asking her to take Tristan back to his Aunt Rosemarie’s popped in his head, he immediately shoved it away.“I was about to hit the sack anyway,” he said.Tristan nodded. “You got an extra blanket?”“Yeah. I’ll grab it. Make yourself comfortable.” He went to the closet in the hall and pulled out a spare blanket. When he turned, Tristan was in the den, kicking off his boots. “Here you go.”“Thanks, Luke. Listen, I’m sorry about all this. I hope—”Luke slammed his lips to Tristan’s mouth. He didn’t know who was more shocked, him or Tristan. All he knew was the thought of Tristan, who’d taken his fair share of beatings for only being who he was, apologizing to him, cut him apart. He silenced him the only way he knew how.
Author Bio:
Award winning author, Lydia Michaels, writes all forms of hot romance. She presses the bounds of love and surprises readers just when they assume they have her stories figured out. From Amish vampyres, to wild Irishmen, to broken heroes, and heroines no man can match, Lydia takes readers on an emotional journey of the heart, mind, and soul with every story she pens. Her books are intellectual, erotic, haunting, always centered on love.
Lydia Michaels loves to hear from readers! She can be contacted by email at Lydia@LydiaMichaels.org
Webpage: www.LydiaMichaels.org
Other Titles by Lydia Michaels:
Falling InBreaking OutComing Home Sacred WatersSkinChasteFaking ItForsaking TruthAs Tears Go BySimple ManBreaking PerfectWhite ChocolateAll 4 YouTo Catch a WolfeChasing FeathersCalled to OrderCalling for a MiracleDestiny CallsCall Her Mine
*~*
Title: Forsaking Truth {McCullough Mountain 5}
Author: Lydia Michaels
Author email: Lydia@LydiaMichaels.org or Publicist@LydiaMichaels.org
Genre: Erotic Romance (MM)
Heat Level:Romance (graphic) (MM)
Book Length: 224 pages
Date of Publication: May 5, 2014 (Available on Amazon, B&N, etc. 5/13/14)
(Please Note: ARCs can be provided for previous titles in a series upon request)
Cover (PDF Attached)
Blurb:
His greatest conflict in life is that another man loves him unconditionally. He’ll forsake everything before he’ll come to face who he truly is.
When Luke McCullough’s athletic potential is diminished by a field injury, his pride pays the price. Returned to Center County a broken man, the long road to recovery seems dreary and overshadowed by opportunities lost, until he meets Tristan Hughes.
Tristan came to Center County to escape his past and start anew, but nothing prepared him for Luke. Intrigued, Tristan cautiously gets to know this powerful man, only to fall head over heels for the vulnerable soul hiding behind all that intensity and drive.
Luke has never been interested in men, so when he can’t get Tristan out of his head he doubles his efforts to fight the inevitable. Stolen glances lead to heated encounters, followed by punishing regret, but Luke’s inability to face the truth of who he really is may cost him the only happiness he’s ever known.
Buy Links:
Publisher: http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=870
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lydia-Michaels/e/B0071ZV41G
· B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/lydia-michaels
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/lydia-michaels/id577453828?mt=11
· Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/Search?query=Lydia%20Michaels&fcsearchfield=Author
· ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Lydia+Michaels
Excerpt: (Adult Language)
He stepped close and his palm curled around the back of Luke’s neck. A split second later—too quick to pull back—Tristan’s lips met his.Luke grunted and jerked away at the first stroke of the other guy’s tongue. “What the hell are you doing?”“I…I thought you wanted me to. You touched me.”He frowned. No he didn’t. Yes. You fucking did. You’re still touching him. He jerked his hand away. It was the beer! Shit, he needed to lay off the drinking.“Luke, look, it’s okay. I just thought with everything today—the shower—clearly I misread—”“Are you dating my cousin?” he suddenly blurted.“What? No. Ryan’s straight.” Tristan’s answer shouldn’t have relieved him, but it did.“You’re gay?”Luke was distracted as Tristan took a deep breath. Tanned skin shadowed with hair drew his gaze to the cut of his chest glistening with a hint of sweat or maybe spilt beer. “Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be an issue. If you aren’t interested, we can act like nothing happened here and just go back to five minutes ago.”“Does Ryan know you’re gay?”“Yeah. He’s fine with it. Most people are. It’s not like I openly maul anything with a dick. I have a specific taste.”“Me?”“Well…” He turned and forked a hand through his hair. “You’re very handsome. Christ, I already saw you naked.”And for some reason Luke had purposely made sure he’d seen him. He wanted him to look, like it was some pissing match or something. Thinking back, it was stupid and nothing like he’d ever done before.“I’ll go,” Tristan said, grabbing his soiled shirt. Luke caught his arm. “Wait.”“For what, Luke? I clearly misread the situation.”“Did you think I was gay?”“No, but then…I don’t know. I thought maybe you were bi. You hear things about football players playing grab ass in the locker rooms and shit. I don’t know what the fuck I thought. Then you touched me and I just…stopped thinking.”“You like being with men?” Well, no shit. That’s pretty much what it was to be gay. He couldn’t fathom it. Did Tristan take the top or bottom? He didn’t look gay, whatever that looked like.“Well…yeah.”“What do you do with them?”“Jesus, Luke, everything. What do you want to know?”“Does it hurt?”“Fuck no. It feels fantastic.”He stepped back, needing to do something, but not the type to fidget. “Have you ever been with a woman?”Tristan’s expression became serious. “No. It’s always been guys.”“This is crazy. I need a beer.” He turned and pulled out a new bottle. He’s fucking gay.Luke never met a gay person that he knew of. He lived in Center County, not the most liberal place. “Man, you picked the wrong town to move to.”“Tell me where the right town is.” Tristan stepped into the den. “I’m just another guy, Luke. I just wanna work and live and have the right to the same happiness everyone else is looking for in this fucked up world.”Luke’s gaze moved over his chest. There were over a dozen scars. “That’s why your dad beat you, for being gay?”“Yeah.” There was so much gravity in that one little word something in Luke broke.“I’m sorry.”“I’m not. Taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. No matter how hard someone hits me, or shuns me, or calls me ugly names, I’m still me. They don’t have to like it. They don’t have to live with it, but I do. And I refuse to be something I’m not.”Luke dropped into the chair. “How old were you?”“When I realized I was gay? Probably four.”“No, when your dad did that to you.”“Eighteen. Five days later my lover tried to kick the shit out of me in front of the whole school and called me everything he was afraid to call himself. Three months later I left for college and never looked back.”Holy shit. “Did you ever think it would be easier to be straight?”“I’ve thought lots of things. Sometimes I think it would be fun to fly, but that doesn’t make it possible.”“No women?”“No. Only men.”“I’m not gay.” Luke stated, needing to hear the affirmation. Tristan nodded. “And that’s cool. I didn’t mean to…”“Right.”The silence stretched between them. Finally, Tristan said, “I’m gonna take off.”“Okay.” He was in a daze. This was some heavy shit.“Thanks for…”“Thanks for your help.”They nodded at one another and Tristan slipped on his wet shirt. A moment later the door closed.Luke sat there for probably five minutes just digesting everything. He liked Tristan. A lot. Just not in any sort of romantic way. He didn’t swing that way. He liked pussy. He was a boob man or maybe a leg man. Definitely wasn’t a gay man.He stood and went to hit the lights. He was way past the legal limit and needed to sleep. Maybe things would be clearer in the morning.He dropped the empties in the bin and went to lock up. As he approached the door it suddenly opened. He stilled and Tristan stepped back in. Why was he back? His return sent a rush of blood pumping through Luke’s veins and his breathing picked up.“I don’t have a car here.”Right. He’d picked him up. “I’ve been drinking.”“I could call a cab.”“Or you could crash here.” He hadn’t thought about his offer, it just slipped out.“Or I could crash here.”Luke stared at him and waited. Sure, Tristan could crash. He could sleep on the recliner. Luke swallowed. He felt like he was doing something very wrong. Part of him was glad he couldn’t drive. So glad, that when the thought of calling Sheilagh and asking her to take Tristan back to his Aunt Rosemarie’s popped in his head, he immediately shoved it away.“I was about to hit the sack anyway,” he said.Tristan nodded. “You got an extra blanket?”“Yeah. I’ll grab it. Make yourself comfortable.” He went to the closet in the hall and pulled out a spare blanket. When he turned, Tristan was in the den, kicking off his boots. “Here you go.”“Thanks, Luke. Listen, I’m sorry about all this. I hope—”Luke slammed his lips to Tristan’s mouth. He didn’t know who was more shocked, him or Tristan. All he knew was the thought of Tristan, who’d taken his fair share of beatings for only being who he was, apologizing to him, cut him apart. He silenced him the only way he knew how.
Author Bio:
Award winning author, Lydia Michaels, writes all forms of hot romance. She presses the bounds of love and surprises readers just when they assume they have her stories figured out. From Amish vampyres, to wild Irishmen, to broken heroes, and heroines no man can match, Lydia takes readers on an emotional journey of the heart, mind, and soul with every story she pens. Her books are intellectual, erotic, haunting, always centered on love.
Lydia Michaels loves to hear from readers! She can be contacted by email at Lydia@LydiaMichaels.org
Webpage: www.LydiaMichaels.org
Other Titles by Lydia Michaels:
Falling InBreaking OutComing Home Sacred WatersSkinChasteFaking ItForsaking TruthAs Tears Go BySimple ManBreaking PerfectWhite ChocolateAll 4 YouTo Catch a WolfeChasing FeathersCalled to OrderCalling for a MiracleDestiny CallsCall Her Mine
May 19, 2014
Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt
Hello! It`s time for Tuesday Tales again.This week I`ll be sharing excerpts from my 2013 NaNoWriMo novel, Laco Law – The Gnarled Oak. Laco Lawis an M/M historical western romance, set in the fictional county of Laco, Texas in 1867.
We have a picture prompt this week so the excerpt is written to reflect the image and must be three hundred words or under. In this snippet, Clayton and Zeke are closer than ever before.
A note for my readers: This is a gay romance novel, and so the romance that occurs is man on man. If this is not your cup of tea, no one will think less of you if you read no further.
As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!
The chuck wagon horses were underway, driven by a tall Negro boy with a wandering eye. Each mile added more anxiety. When we slipped through a large gate some ninety minutes later, I was barely able to keep my seat. The boys in the back of the chuck wagon waved at us vigorously. We rode away from them, sending our horses into the shadows as the wagon ambled along the neatly tended drive. The Emerson ranch announced its wealth loudly.
The home itself was spread out like a drunken whore behind a security wall. Wings shooting off in every direction made the house seem as if the owner could not decide which direction to expand in, and so being incredibly rich, went every which way. The clapboards were painted yellow. The edging and shutters white. The front porch spoke of quiet evenings sipping tea among loved ones. The front porch lied.
The drive was lined with torches. The house was brilliantly illuminated from within. Whoever lived here feared the dark. When I put hands to Caldwell Emerson, he would have more to fear than shadows. A sharp whistle pulled me from my cold-blooded fantasy. Zeke had dismounted. I did the same. We gathered our reins and led our horses behind us. The house was surrounded by a large wooden fence perhaps ten feet tall. We slunk around the fence like polecats.
The shadows bobbed about. The rattling pots and pans in the wagon quieted. Zeke and I draped our horse’s reins around a thin sapling trying to grow beside the shaved log wall. Crouched low, we hurried across a wide expanse of open land until we reached the wall of the southern wing. Voices rang out in the night. Angry shouts from adult males. Zeke and I proceeded to the rear of the house, if such a tentacled monstrosity could say it owned a back.
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 with more from the old West!
We have a picture prompt this week so the excerpt is written to reflect the image and must be three hundred words or under. In this snippet, Clayton and Zeke are closer than ever before.
A note for my readers: This is a gay romance novel, and so the romance that occurs is man on man. If this is not your cup of tea, no one will think less of you if you read no further.
As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!
The chuck wagon horses were underway, driven by a tall Negro boy with a wandering eye. Each mile added more anxiety. When we slipped through a large gate some ninety minutes later, I was barely able to keep my seat. The boys in the back of the chuck wagon waved at us vigorously. We rode away from them, sending our horses into the shadows as the wagon ambled along the neatly tended drive. The Emerson ranch announced its wealth loudly.
The home itself was spread out like a drunken whore behind a security wall. Wings shooting off in every direction made the house seem as if the owner could not decide which direction to expand in, and so being incredibly rich, went every which way. The clapboards were painted yellow. The edging and shutters white. The front porch spoke of quiet evenings sipping tea among loved ones. The front porch lied.
The drive was lined with torches. The house was brilliantly illuminated from within. Whoever lived here feared the dark. When I put hands to Caldwell Emerson, he would have more to fear than shadows. A sharp whistle pulled me from my cold-blooded fantasy. Zeke had dismounted. I did the same. We gathered our reins and led our horses behind us. The house was surrounded by a large wooden fence perhaps ten feet tall. We slunk around the fence like polecats.
The shadows bobbed about. The rattling pots and pans in the wagon quieted. Zeke and I draped our horse’s reins around a thin sapling trying to grow beside the shaved log wall. Crouched low, we hurried across a wide expanse of open land until we reached the wall of the southern wing. Voices rang out in the night. Angry shouts from adult males. Zeke and I proceeded to the rear of the house, if such a tentacled monstrosity could say it owned a back.
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 with more from the old West!
May 18, 2014
Please Welcome Natasza Waters!
I`m beyond excited to have Natasza here today! She and I are new friends as well as fellow Secret Cravings authors. I just started reading the first book in her series and am already firmly hooked!
*~*
Ahoy! Thanks for welcoming me onboard today Vicki. I’m Natasza Waters, and I write military suspense and romance. Now don’t go running in the other direction until you’ve given one a try. I promise the lingo and acronyms are kept to a minimum. The Navy SEALs in my novels are locked and loaded with valor, strength and make memorable book boyfriends.
Code Name: Ghost book trailer https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Au0rDEIXZF8
I’m writing a series on Team One, Alpha Squad.
Anyone who reads Suzanne Brokmann, will love getting to know these guys. I spent thirty plus years in the Coast Guard, and I have plenty of “book fodder” to draw from. Each novel has a running arc that deals with the issues of serving members: separation from their families, injuries on deployment and the struggles they endure, and hot topics like women fighting on the front lines. With my background, there’s a healthy dose of realism, but there’s plenty of sizzle between the sheets as well. Navy SEALs live hard, play hard, and love hard. If you’re a Canadian, wave the flag, because you’ll always find at least one in my novels. The U.S. and Canada have always been brothers (and sisters) in arms, and kept dark things at bay, together.
The first novel in the series, Code Name: Ghost is a finalist in the “Reward of Novel Excellence” awards to be announced this July.
Blurb: An epic action ride through passion, combat and deep wounds that refuse to heal. Kayla, a Canadian liaison, and Navy Seal Commander Thane Austen are both experts at smoke and mirrors. He’s a legend. She’s a survivor, and they’ll fight to the bitter end to resist one another.
Code Name: Kayla’s Fire completes Kayla and the Commander’s happily-ever-after.
Blurb: Commander Thane Austen is a U.S. Navy SEAL with eyes like blue steel and a body carved from it. Returning from deployment, he finds a Canadian liaison has been hired for Base Command. A woman! A threat forces him to close ranks around her, but it's not long before he realizes passion can be as dangerous to a warrior as combat.
I do something that most authors don’t. It’s important that I know the men going on my covers. Most of them have military backgrounds. Two of them are even on my street team, and of course drop by to drive my ladies wild. LOL.
The newest book, Code Name: Nina’s Choice, is Petty Officer Mace Callahan’s story who turned out to be a favorite character from the first two books. He’s the heart of the team with Hollywood good looks and muscles out the ying-yang. This story is like eating salty sweet popcorn.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWi44CQVXm8
Blurb: Nina Samson, an analyst working at Coronado Base Command, lands in Navy sniper Mace Callahan’s lap like an I.E.D. Two weeks of fiery passion with the lithe redhead, and the self-proclaimed bachelor raises the white flag. Arriving in San Diego, Nina, a single mother with an eight-year-old daughter, spots danger ahead. Mace’s Hollywood goods looks and wicked smile makes her heart run a zip-line of crazy. Lust for the sexy SEAL swiftly turns to fear when he deploys to Syria for a mission.
Mace returns home angry. Believing his injury destroys their future, unable to pleasure any woman, especially one like Nina, he tries to sever their relationship. She deflects every round Mace fires at her heart, determination controlling the helm. Just as the seas calm, fate advances. Another warrior sets his sights on her. Mace will wage war for her heart, but it’s “Nina’s Choice”.Amazon.com http://tinyurl.com/k3k4ajm Amazon.ca http://tinyurl.com/l5x6qdr Amazon.co.uk http://tinyurl.com/ldaokzo Amazon.com.au http://tinyurl.com/nkpkuue B&N http://tinyurl.com/l7253l7 Secret Cravings Publishing http://tinyurl.com/kk24c35 Siren Bookstrand http://tinyurl.com/mrwhlwb All Romance E-books http://tinyurl.com/ouf2v3p Thanks for letting me drop by Vicki. Love, hope & faith to you and your readers!88’sNatasza Waters
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Natasza-Waters/311286078885026http://nataszawaters.com/
*~*
Ahoy! Thanks for welcoming me onboard today Vicki. I’m Natasza Waters, and I write military suspense and romance. Now don’t go running in the other direction until you’ve given one a try. I promise the lingo and acronyms are kept to a minimum. The Navy SEALs in my novels are locked and loaded with valor, strength and make memorable book boyfriends.
Code Name: Ghost book trailer https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Au0rDEIXZF8
I’m writing a series on Team One, Alpha Squad.
Anyone who reads Suzanne Brokmann, will love getting to know these guys. I spent thirty plus years in the Coast Guard, and I have plenty of “book fodder” to draw from. Each novel has a running arc that deals with the issues of serving members: separation from their families, injuries on deployment and the struggles they endure, and hot topics like women fighting on the front lines. With my background, there’s a healthy dose of realism, but there’s plenty of sizzle between the sheets as well. Navy SEALs live hard, play hard, and love hard. If you’re a Canadian, wave the flag, because you’ll always find at least one in my novels. The U.S. and Canada have always been brothers (and sisters) in arms, and kept dark things at bay, together.
The first novel in the series, Code Name: Ghost is a finalist in the “Reward of Novel Excellence” awards to be announced this July.
Blurb: An epic action ride through passion, combat and deep wounds that refuse to heal. Kayla, a Canadian liaison, and Navy Seal Commander Thane Austen are both experts at smoke and mirrors. He’s a legend. She’s a survivor, and they’ll fight to the bitter end to resist one another.
Code Name: Kayla’s Fire completes Kayla and the Commander’s happily-ever-after.
Blurb: Commander Thane Austen is a U.S. Navy SEAL with eyes like blue steel and a body carved from it. Returning from deployment, he finds a Canadian liaison has been hired for Base Command. A woman! A threat forces him to close ranks around her, but it's not long before he realizes passion can be as dangerous to a warrior as combat.
I do something that most authors don’t. It’s important that I know the men going on my covers. Most of them have military backgrounds. Two of them are even on my street team, and of course drop by to drive my ladies wild. LOL.
The newest book, Code Name: Nina’s Choice, is Petty Officer Mace Callahan’s story who turned out to be a favorite character from the first two books. He’s the heart of the team with Hollywood good looks and muscles out the ying-yang. This story is like eating salty sweet popcorn.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWi44CQVXm8
Blurb: Nina Samson, an analyst working at Coronado Base Command, lands in Navy sniper Mace Callahan’s lap like an I.E.D. Two weeks of fiery passion with the lithe redhead, and the self-proclaimed bachelor raises the white flag. Arriving in San Diego, Nina, a single mother with an eight-year-old daughter, spots danger ahead. Mace’s Hollywood goods looks and wicked smile makes her heart run a zip-line of crazy. Lust for the sexy SEAL swiftly turns to fear when he deploys to Syria for a mission.
Mace returns home angry. Believing his injury destroys their future, unable to pleasure any woman, especially one like Nina, he tries to sever their relationship. She deflects every round Mace fires at her heart, determination controlling the helm. Just as the seas calm, fate advances. Another warrior sets his sights on her. Mace will wage war for her heart, but it’s “Nina’s Choice”.Amazon.com http://tinyurl.com/k3k4ajm Amazon.ca http://tinyurl.com/l5x6qdr Amazon.co.uk http://tinyurl.com/ldaokzo Amazon.com.au http://tinyurl.com/nkpkuue B&N http://tinyurl.com/l7253l7 Secret Cravings Publishing http://tinyurl.com/kk24c35 Siren Bookstrand http://tinyurl.com/mrwhlwb All Romance E-books http://tinyurl.com/ouf2v3p Thanks for letting me drop by Vicki. Love, hope & faith to you and your readers!88’sNatasza Waters
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Natasza-Waters/311286078885026http://nataszawaters.com/
May 16, 2014
Showdown In The Fiction Section
I know that most of you who watch the NHL have seen some of these Geico ads:
I thought I was going to have a showdown with another hockey fan when I was at my last author event, but things went a decidedly different way. Thank goodness. He was much bigger than me. Things started off smoothly enough. I arrived early at my beloved indie bookstore. The table display went nicely.
Customers started coming in, friends dropped by. I signed a few copies of both books and chatted with folks. Then I saw him, out of the corner of my eye. Orange shirt. Orange hat. A Flyers fan. Oh no. My lip wanted to curl. I could still recall the passion, anger, and shenanigans that occurred during the series my Rangers had just won against the Flyers. There is no love lost between the teams or the fan base.
But, I had to be nice. After all, how would it look if I ran at the man while he perused the non-fiction section then hit him with a book? So I sat there beside my books and table top, innocence oozing out of me. He turned. His eyes roamed over the display then fastened onto the Rangers emblem front and center. I braced myself. He walked over.
"What`s all this?" he asked with a wave of his hand. I eyed him warily. He sized me up. I could hear spaghetti western movie music playing in my head.
"This is a cancer charity anthology, with all royalties being donated to the cause. Every author involved is a proud supporter of Hockey Fights Cancer," I said, hoping my Blueshirt pride was evident. He looked over the display, then the books, then that glorious Rangers insignia.
"Who do I pay?" he asked.
So while we might have had sharp words during the series, it seems that some hockey rivalries fall by the wayside when a needy charity is involved. Hockey fans are the greatest!
I thought I was going to have a showdown with another hockey fan when I was at my last author event, but things went a decidedly different way. Thank goodness. He was much bigger than me. Things started off smoothly enough. I arrived early at my beloved indie bookstore. The table display went nicely.
Customers started coming in, friends dropped by. I signed a few copies of both books and chatted with folks. Then I saw him, out of the corner of my eye. Orange shirt. Orange hat. A Flyers fan. Oh no. My lip wanted to curl. I could still recall the passion, anger, and shenanigans that occurred during the series my Rangers had just won against the Flyers. There is no love lost between the teams or the fan base.
But, I had to be nice. After all, how would it look if I ran at the man while he perused the non-fiction section then hit him with a book? So I sat there beside my books and table top, innocence oozing out of me. He turned. His eyes roamed over the display then fastened onto the Rangers emblem front and center. I braced myself. He walked over.
"What`s all this?" he asked with a wave of his hand. I eyed him warily. He sized me up. I could hear spaghetti western movie music playing in my head.
"This is a cancer charity anthology, with all royalties being donated to the cause. Every author involved is a proud supporter of Hockey Fights Cancer," I said, hoping my Blueshirt pride was evident. He looked over the display, then the books, then that glorious Rangers insignia.
"Who do I pay?" he asked.
So while we might have had sharp words during the series, it seems that some hockey rivalries fall by the wayside when a needy charity is involved. Hockey fans are the greatest!
May 15, 2014
Please Welcome Madison Sevier!
I`m happy to have fellow SCP author Madison Sevier visiting today. She`s here to share some info about her newest release, Long Overdue.
*~*
Bio:
Romance author, Madison Sevier began her career at Secret Cravings Publishing in 2012. Her days are spent homeschooling her daughter and doing the bookkeeping for her husband's business. At night, she gets to become someone else, creating characters who work their way into the hearts and minds of romance readers everywhere.
Being a Gemini, Madison is known for doing whatever strikes her fancy at any given moment. Some of her favorite hobbies include; hiking, animal rescue, writing, reading, baking, horseback riding, coffee tasting and she's a huge NASCAR fan.
Living in what everyone calls 'Kentuckiana', she's found the perfect paradise to allow her stories to come to life. Against a backdrop of the Ohio River and surrounding hillsides, she never knows where a new romance will come from. But you can be sure you're going to hear about it.
She loves hearing from her readers and meeting new ones. Feel free to contact Madison at madisonsevieratyahoo.com or through her blog: madisonsevier.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/madisonsevier12Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/MadisonSevierAuthor?ref=hlTwitter: https://twitter.com/MadisonSevierBlog: Madison’s Place: http://madisonsevier.blogspot.com/Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7011658.Madison_SevierGoogle+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/113626781991778172262Sulia: http://sulia.com/madisonsevier/Booklikes: http://madisonsevier.booklikes.com/The Romance Reviews: http://www.theromancereviews.com/mypageprofile.php?location=madisonsevierSecret Cravings Publishing: http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=products_all&filter_author=197&zenid=a32f1d4a7c9c20ad74cd9bf76916fb90Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Madison-Sevier/e/B00BDWM3DG/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1397515846&sr=8-1Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Madison-Sevier/e/B00BDWM3DG/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1397516513&sr=8-1Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/madison-sevierAre: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html
‘Long Overdue’ River Jewel Resort Series, Book 3, scheduled for release on May 6, 2014 at Secret Cravings Publishing: http://store.secretcravingspublishing...
Blurb:After a decade of working at the campus library, a scandal involving a student leaves Olivia Milan unemployed and able to spend much more time with her best friend, Matt. She’s always been attracted to Matt Osgood, but believes he’ll never feel the same about her. When he heads out of town for the weekend, Olivia takes the opportunity to visit the River Jewel Resort in the hope of getting a new job. However, what she finds when she arrives proves life can be stranger than fiction.
Romance author Matt Osgood has been in love with the same woman for a very long time, but he thinks she’ll never return his feelings. Years of going to the River Jewel Resort have allowed him to live out his every fantasy. Still, he aches for a real emotional connection to the woman he truly loves.
Can the River Jewel Resort turn fantasy into a reality for these two best friends? Or will they run in opposite directions when confronted with the truth?
Extra:
***** She’d be separated from the wonderful worlds she’d discovered between the pages of books by both new and old authors. They’d been her saving grace after losing her fiancé years ago. After she’d found out he’d been cheating, Olivia had immersed herself in the job and it had filled the hollow void that his sudden death and all that she’d discovered about him had created. Here, she’d found happy endings over and over again. In a cold world full of lies, the library spoke to her, welcomed her with its truth and warmth. With every bit of joy these creations had given her, she’d returned the favor by mending worn covers, caring for them, dusting their shelves, protecting them. Now, she had to let them go and it felt as though her heart were being ripped from her chest. *****
Excerpt:
“Not enough pay. Not enough hours. Not enough clothing.” She tossed the red marker across the room. “This newspaper is full of shitty jobs. There has to be something in this town I’m qualified to do.”“Have you considered starting your own tantric-tutoring classes at the Y?” Matt waved his napkin as Olivia threw him an evil glare.
“Hardy-har-har. Are you ever going to let that go? It happened over a month ago.”“I know, but I still wish I had been there to see it. I’m afraid the images in my mind of you and the Professor rolling around in your office just don’t do the real thing justice.”“Perv.”
“You know it. I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man still sits around picturing the two of you getting each other off while he jerks off in that disgusting office of his.”“Really? Did you have to go there? I feel dirty just thinking about it. Gross. I still can’t believe I let my libido take control of me.”
“Just kidding, babe. Tell you what, if you promise to go to River Jewel while I’m in Chicago doing actual work this weekend, I’ll stop teasing you about the senior-shag when I return.”Olivia rolled her eyes. “Liar. You’re enjoying this.”
“Well, yeah, but I promise to stop. Besides, I overheard someone last night say that they’re putting a bookstore in at the Resort, on the third floor. That tells me they’re hiring and who better to run a bookstore than you?”
“No way.” She was speechless. A bookstore! It had been years since she’d been in an actual bookstore. Working at the library, reading Matt’s books and the ease of online shopping had supported her need for books for years. To be employed at a shop full of her favorite things would be amazing! Just the thought of working in one made her panties wet.
For Olivia, books had always been everything. The way they smelled when one opened them and the feel of them in her hands was like a drug. This was one of the many reasons she’d loved her job at the library. She could be closest to the things that made her happy.
One night after the library closed, her love of sex and fiction came together in an amazing way. She’d snuck in with a guy and they’d made love on top of one of the long, mahogany tables. Olivia had never felt more alive than that night. She’d been surrounded by new and old authors, their famous works standing at attention, surrounding them. Their stories of happily-ever-afters calling to her as she milked every drop from her ex’s shaft and after that, screwing in the library had become the only thing that came close to satisfying her.
Her fiancé, Randy, had never been into anything she wanted or needed and for a long time, she’d thought it was her fault. Olivia had tried to be everything Randy Davis desired and it took her a long time to realize that no one could have made him happy. His insatiability rivaled hers but he preferred to satisfy his needs with other people behind Olivia’s back. If she had known what he was doing, she never would’ve stayed with him for as long as she did. Looking back, she had wasted so much time and she’d cried enough tears to fill the Ohio River. If only she had met Matt sooner. Maybe their lives would’ve been different. Straddling Matt on a library table, riding him until they were both raw and exhausted…
“Hellooo. Earth to Olivia.” Matt snapped his fingers in her face. “Where’d you go? Oh, you were thinking about Tim, the quarterback again, weren’t you?”Busted. “Not exactly. Okay, maybe.”
“You were! Library sex flashbacks? I’m so jealous!” He teased. “I’ve never known anyone to hold on to a memory of an ex like you have.” Did she sense a bit of real jealousy in his tone? Maybe it was a fantasy of you that I was thinking about. She’d seen how well-endowed Matt was. Helping him get into and out of the shower safely every other day had played a huge part in her need to be taken by a man, any man. Thinking back, she should’ve spoken up sooner. Maybe their lives would be different if she had. An author and a librarian were a perfect match. She’d give him plenty of inspiration for his books and he’d fulfill all of her fantasies. But what if she was wrong?
*~*
Bio:
Romance author, Madison Sevier began her career at Secret Cravings Publishing in 2012. Her days are spent homeschooling her daughter and doing the bookkeeping for her husband's business. At night, she gets to become someone else, creating characters who work their way into the hearts and minds of romance readers everywhere.
Being a Gemini, Madison is known for doing whatever strikes her fancy at any given moment. Some of her favorite hobbies include; hiking, animal rescue, writing, reading, baking, horseback riding, coffee tasting and she's a huge NASCAR fan.
Living in what everyone calls 'Kentuckiana', she's found the perfect paradise to allow her stories to come to life. Against a backdrop of the Ohio River and surrounding hillsides, she never knows where a new romance will come from. But you can be sure you're going to hear about it.
She loves hearing from her readers and meeting new ones. Feel free to contact Madison at madisonsevieratyahoo.com or through her blog: madisonsevier.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/madisonsevier12Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/MadisonSevierAuthor?ref=hlTwitter: https://twitter.com/MadisonSevierBlog: Madison’s Place: http://madisonsevier.blogspot.com/Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7011658.Madison_SevierGoogle+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/113626781991778172262Sulia: http://sulia.com/madisonsevier/Booklikes: http://madisonsevier.booklikes.com/The Romance Reviews: http://www.theromancereviews.com/mypageprofile.php?location=madisonsevierSecret Cravings Publishing: http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=products_all&filter_author=197&zenid=a32f1d4a7c9c20ad74cd9bf76916fb90Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Madison-Sevier/e/B00BDWM3DG/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1397515846&sr=8-1Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Madison-Sevier/e/B00BDWM3DG/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1397516513&sr=8-1Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/madison-sevierAre: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html
‘Long Overdue’ River Jewel Resort Series, Book 3, scheduled for release on May 6, 2014 at Secret Cravings Publishing: http://store.secretcravingspublishing...
Blurb:After a decade of working at the campus library, a scandal involving a student leaves Olivia Milan unemployed and able to spend much more time with her best friend, Matt. She’s always been attracted to Matt Osgood, but believes he’ll never feel the same about her. When he heads out of town for the weekend, Olivia takes the opportunity to visit the River Jewel Resort in the hope of getting a new job. However, what she finds when she arrives proves life can be stranger than fiction.
Romance author Matt Osgood has been in love with the same woman for a very long time, but he thinks she’ll never return his feelings. Years of going to the River Jewel Resort have allowed him to live out his every fantasy. Still, he aches for a real emotional connection to the woman he truly loves.
Can the River Jewel Resort turn fantasy into a reality for these two best friends? Or will they run in opposite directions when confronted with the truth?
Extra:
***** She’d be separated from the wonderful worlds she’d discovered between the pages of books by both new and old authors. They’d been her saving grace after losing her fiancé years ago. After she’d found out he’d been cheating, Olivia had immersed herself in the job and it had filled the hollow void that his sudden death and all that she’d discovered about him had created. Here, she’d found happy endings over and over again. In a cold world full of lies, the library spoke to her, welcomed her with its truth and warmth. With every bit of joy these creations had given her, she’d returned the favor by mending worn covers, caring for them, dusting their shelves, protecting them. Now, she had to let them go and it felt as though her heart were being ripped from her chest. *****
Excerpt:
“Not enough pay. Not enough hours. Not enough clothing.” She tossed the red marker across the room. “This newspaper is full of shitty jobs. There has to be something in this town I’m qualified to do.”“Have you considered starting your own tantric-tutoring classes at the Y?” Matt waved his napkin as Olivia threw him an evil glare.
“Hardy-har-har. Are you ever going to let that go? It happened over a month ago.”“I know, but I still wish I had been there to see it. I’m afraid the images in my mind of you and the Professor rolling around in your office just don’t do the real thing justice.”“Perv.”
“You know it. I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man still sits around picturing the two of you getting each other off while he jerks off in that disgusting office of his.”“Really? Did you have to go there? I feel dirty just thinking about it. Gross. I still can’t believe I let my libido take control of me.”
“Just kidding, babe. Tell you what, if you promise to go to River Jewel while I’m in Chicago doing actual work this weekend, I’ll stop teasing you about the senior-shag when I return.”Olivia rolled her eyes. “Liar. You’re enjoying this.”
“Well, yeah, but I promise to stop. Besides, I overheard someone last night say that they’re putting a bookstore in at the Resort, on the third floor. That tells me they’re hiring and who better to run a bookstore than you?”
“No way.” She was speechless. A bookstore! It had been years since she’d been in an actual bookstore. Working at the library, reading Matt’s books and the ease of online shopping had supported her need for books for years. To be employed at a shop full of her favorite things would be amazing! Just the thought of working in one made her panties wet.
For Olivia, books had always been everything. The way they smelled when one opened them and the feel of them in her hands was like a drug. This was one of the many reasons she’d loved her job at the library. She could be closest to the things that made her happy.
One night after the library closed, her love of sex and fiction came together in an amazing way. She’d snuck in with a guy and they’d made love on top of one of the long, mahogany tables. Olivia had never felt more alive than that night. She’d been surrounded by new and old authors, their famous works standing at attention, surrounding them. Their stories of happily-ever-afters calling to her as she milked every drop from her ex’s shaft and after that, screwing in the library had become the only thing that came close to satisfying her.
Her fiancé, Randy, had never been into anything she wanted or needed and for a long time, she’d thought it was her fault. Olivia had tried to be everything Randy Davis desired and it took her a long time to realize that no one could have made him happy. His insatiability rivaled hers but he preferred to satisfy his needs with other people behind Olivia’s back. If she had known what he was doing, she never would’ve stayed with him for as long as she did. Looking back, she had wasted so much time and she’d cried enough tears to fill the Ohio River. If only she had met Matt sooner. Maybe their lives would’ve been different. Straddling Matt on a library table, riding him until they were both raw and exhausted…
“Hellooo. Earth to Olivia.” Matt snapped his fingers in her face. “Where’d you go? Oh, you were thinking about Tim, the quarterback again, weren’t you?”Busted. “Not exactly. Okay, maybe.”
“You were! Library sex flashbacks? I’m so jealous!” He teased. “I’ve never known anyone to hold on to a memory of an ex like you have.” Did she sense a bit of real jealousy in his tone? Maybe it was a fantasy of you that I was thinking about. She’d seen how well-endowed Matt was. Helping him get into and out of the shower safely every other day had played a huge part in her need to be taken by a man, any man. Thinking back, she should’ve spoken up sooner. Maybe their lives would be different if she had. An author and a librarian were a perfect match. She’d give him plenty of inspiration for his books and he’d fulfill all of her fantasies. But what if she was wrong?
May 14, 2014
Throwback Thursday Tune
Because he`s the King, and he can move. And I mean MOVE. Check out just how well in this song from Fun in Acapulco.
Anyone here a fan of his movies? *waves hand in air* Which Elvis movie is your favorite? Mine is It Happened at the World`s Fair.
Anyone here a fan of his movies? *waves hand in air* Which Elvis movie is your favorite? Mine is It Happened at the World`s Fair.
May 13, 2014
Joyce M. Holmes Pays a Visit!
Please welcome the lovely and talented Joyce M. Holmes to our tiny book nook under the stairs. Joyce is here to chat a bit as well as tell us about her new release from Secret Cravings Publishing, It`s Complicated.
*~*~*
That girl in English class, the one who started on her essay or reading assignment the day it was handed out? Yeah, that was me. A camera was never far from my fingertips either, and anyone walking the school halls was fair game to having their photo snapped for the yearbook. I had grand dreams of becoming a photojournalist. Then my parents moved a few days after my graduation, and at seventeen I was on my own and all dreams were put on hold. I bounced around from place to place for a couple of years, married young, had three beautiful boys. "Me" became replaced with "Mom".
For twenty-some years, I immersed myself in raising my kids. Nothing was more important. I still took photos, I still read whenever I could steal a moment, but writing not only took a backseat, it got shoved, huddled and neglected, in the trunk.As my boys got older and became involved in sports, I started submitting write-ups of their games to the local paper and they always got printed. That small success fueled the fire kept on slow simmer for too many years. On my fortieth birthday, I sat myself down, as people tend to do, and asked what did I still want to achieve for "me"? I wanted to write a book. So I did. And it was terribly bad. But the bug had bitten. I wrote another one, then another and another… I took classes, attended conferences, joined writing groups, and I began getting "good" rejection letters. (I know, right? Total oxymoron.)
About that time, my life shifted gears again. With my children at an age where they no longer needed constant attention, my hubby and I began to travel. I found an entire world out there to explore and photograph, and digital photography made it so easy and fun. I stopped writing halfway through a story, just completely stopped writing. But if you have a true passion for something, it can't be denied. It took a couple years, but I gradually found my way back to writing. I still haven't finished that abandoned story, but I will. Another of my stories called to me first, my favorite one. I edited it, brought it into the twenty-first century (my, how the world has changed in those few brief years), submitted it and yay – Show No Weakness became published. I’ve recently followed that with a sequel, It’s Complicated, which was published last month.
I confess to being partial to wounded characters. I enjoy reading about them and most of my stories feature them. Besides English, two of my favorite classes in school were Sociology and Psychology and I blame my fascination with the human psyche for this compulsion to torment my characters.In It’s Complicated, it’s my female character, Maggie, who is the most wounded. Her childhood was far from ideal, and as a result she’s developed such a protective armor around her heart, which Tom has to slowly and patiently break down. And along the way, Maggie teaches Tom a few things about life and love too. This is the back cover blurb:
Having grown up with no one but herself to count on, Maggie Lapage carefully guards her feelings. Professionally, she goes above and beyond to give others the support she wishes she'd had as a child. When she develops a forbidden attraction to a client, she does what she thinks is necessary, to save his family and to protect her own heart.
Tom O’Shay finds his life caught in a nightmare when he risks losing custody of his daughter. It goes against his character to seek help, but he doesn’t have a choice. That doesn’t mean he has to like it. Everything changes when he falls hard for his daughter’s counselor and he suddenly has two fights on his hands. One for his daughter and another for the woman he loves.He wants a real relationship, she's afraid to love. It’s complicated, but is it impossible?
To learn more about Maggie and Tom, please visit my website at http://joyceholmes.wordpress.com/bookshelf/. I have buy links and excerpts for both of my books posted there.
I've learned a few things along the path to this place I now find myself. I've learned life is all about striking a balance. You don't necessarily have to give up one thing to enjoy another. And never give up on a dream, even if it has to ride in the trunk for a while first.
My social media links:
https://www.facebook.com/Joyce.M.Holmes
https://twitter.com/Joyce_Holmes
*~*~*
That girl in English class, the one who started on her essay or reading assignment the day it was handed out? Yeah, that was me. A camera was never far from my fingertips either, and anyone walking the school halls was fair game to having their photo snapped for the yearbook. I had grand dreams of becoming a photojournalist. Then my parents moved a few days after my graduation, and at seventeen I was on my own and all dreams were put on hold. I bounced around from place to place for a couple of years, married young, had three beautiful boys. "Me" became replaced with "Mom".
For twenty-some years, I immersed myself in raising my kids. Nothing was more important. I still took photos, I still read whenever I could steal a moment, but writing not only took a backseat, it got shoved, huddled and neglected, in the trunk.As my boys got older and became involved in sports, I started submitting write-ups of their games to the local paper and they always got printed. That small success fueled the fire kept on slow simmer for too many years. On my fortieth birthday, I sat myself down, as people tend to do, and asked what did I still want to achieve for "me"? I wanted to write a book. So I did. And it was terribly bad. But the bug had bitten. I wrote another one, then another and another… I took classes, attended conferences, joined writing groups, and I began getting "good" rejection letters. (I know, right? Total oxymoron.)
About that time, my life shifted gears again. With my children at an age where they no longer needed constant attention, my hubby and I began to travel. I found an entire world out there to explore and photograph, and digital photography made it so easy and fun. I stopped writing halfway through a story, just completely stopped writing. But if you have a true passion for something, it can't be denied. It took a couple years, but I gradually found my way back to writing. I still haven't finished that abandoned story, but I will. Another of my stories called to me first, my favorite one. I edited it, brought it into the twenty-first century (my, how the world has changed in those few brief years), submitted it and yay – Show No Weakness became published. I’ve recently followed that with a sequel, It’s Complicated, which was published last month.
I confess to being partial to wounded characters. I enjoy reading about them and most of my stories feature them. Besides English, two of my favorite classes in school were Sociology and Psychology and I blame my fascination with the human psyche for this compulsion to torment my characters.In It’s Complicated, it’s my female character, Maggie, who is the most wounded. Her childhood was far from ideal, and as a result she’s developed such a protective armor around her heart, which Tom has to slowly and patiently break down. And along the way, Maggie teaches Tom a few things about life and love too. This is the back cover blurb:
Having grown up with no one but herself to count on, Maggie Lapage carefully guards her feelings. Professionally, she goes above and beyond to give others the support she wishes she'd had as a child. When she develops a forbidden attraction to a client, she does what she thinks is necessary, to save his family and to protect her own heart.
Tom O’Shay finds his life caught in a nightmare when he risks losing custody of his daughter. It goes against his character to seek help, but he doesn’t have a choice. That doesn’t mean he has to like it. Everything changes when he falls hard for his daughter’s counselor and he suddenly has two fights on his hands. One for his daughter and another for the woman he loves.He wants a real relationship, she's afraid to love. It’s complicated, but is it impossible?
To learn more about Maggie and Tom, please visit my website at http://joyceholmes.wordpress.com/bookshelf/. I have buy links and excerpts for both of my books posted there.
I've learned a few things along the path to this place I now find myself. I've learned life is all about striking a balance. You don't necessarily have to give up one thing to enjoy another. And never give up on a dream, even if it has to ride in the trunk for a while first.
My social media links:
https://www.facebook.com/Joyce.M.Holmes
https://twitter.com/Joyce_Holmes
May 12, 2014
Tuesday Tales - Mother
Welcome to Tuesday Tales! This week I`ll be sharing excerpts from my 2013 NaNoWriMo novel, Laco Law – The Gnarled Oak. Laco Law is an M/M historical western romance, set in the fictional county of Laco, Texas in 1867.
This week our word prompt 'Mother’. In this excerpt Clayton and Zeke grow even closer.
A note for my readers: This is a gay romance novel, and so the romance that occurs is man on man. If this is not your cup of tea, no one will think less of you if you read no further. This excerpt also contains some graphic and violent scenes.
As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!
By dusk I was as contrary as a cougar with a thorn in its paw. The herd was milling around a windmill watering system. We had found refuge behind a tree line. I had to assume the tree line was a property boundary. Zeke and I sat our horses, peering at a most peculiar sight. Two large tents were set up near the large in-ground tank. Boys of various ages were seen milling about. None were past the age of fourteen I would hazard. Some seemed as young as say eight. I counted no more than ten young ones. The eldest wore side-arms. That told us that they were in charge of the encampment. That also told us we could not simply ride in unannounced. Young men with guns were foolish to the extreme.
Dog was lying on the edge of the herd, his head on his front paws, his ears twitching. I was at wits end when a hue and cry went up in the camp. Zeke and I slid out of our saddles. We led the horses behind the trees as a rattling chuck wagon rolled into sight from the east. The boys came running. The wagon pulled in between the two large tents. The children stood straight as new boards, their hands at their sides, their heads downcast. Zeke cleared his throat. I handed him my canteen without looking at him. He drank.I watched in some sort of sickly horror as one lad was chosen from among the others by the man who must be the cook. He spoke to the young man, took his arm, and led him from the line. The other boys did not move as their counterpart was dragged into tent. The flap was thrown closed. The hungry shepherds stood at attention.
“This is not going to continue,” I said looking over to see if my deputy would argue discretion. He handed me back my canteen, his lips moist and full.
“You take the adult. I`ll try to subdue the children without scaring them further.”
I dearly wanted to say how much I loved him. I did not though. I think he knew. We left the horses tied to the trees. Dog raised his head when we approached on hand and knee. His tail whipped the stubble that was once grass. I motioned to Zeke that I planned to sneak into the tent from the rear. He nodded then spoke to Dog in a gruff whisper. The dog rose up, stretched, and then bounded into the herd. Sheep scattered to the four winds, eyes round with terror. Zeke and I made our moves. I rushed to the back of the tent, my Henry loaded. The shouts and pandemonium created by a dog among the sheep covered much. It muted my entrance. It also drowned the whimpers of a child about to be sorely abused by an adult.
The cook, he was a thin man, long-nosed with sparse hair. His balding pate was damp with sweat. His pants were around his ankles. The boy was splayed over a table, his trousers loose but not down. I did not ask any questions. I shot point blank. The cook lost the top of his head. The lad began to scream. He made no move to hike up his trousers, nor run, or even fall to the ground in relief or shame. He just lay over the scarred table screaming. I gathered the boy up. He did not fight. Outside I went, my repeating rifle aimed at the ground. The sheep had broken into small groups. The boys were one large knot. Zeke stood in front of them, one hand on each of his revolvers, his stance showing he would brook no sudden movement. The two teenagers, they stood bravely in front of the younger boys, but in their eyes you could see the terror.
“You have no cause to fear us,” I said, a traumatized young man riding on my hip. “We`re lawmen,” I said then glanced down at the silver star above my heart. “This man is my deputy.” All eyes roamed to Zeke. He tapped his bronze star. Some of the anxiety blew away on the warm evening breeze. “I am in search of a young boy, four years old. Sandy hair like mine who goes by the name Boyden.”
A young Indian boy stepped out from among the crowd. I looked them all over slowly. It seemed to be a diverse group of slaves. Some Indian, some Mexican, four Negro, and a few white like the twins we had met earlier. A motley group of castoff street rats that would not be missed. Or so the ringleaders had thought. The boy marched up to Zeke. They fell into a stilted conversation in a choppy tongue. The boy on my hip still cried, but the wailing had lessened. I tried to set him to his feet but he would have nothing of it.
“He asks that if they tell us where the Boyden boy is will we take them with us. He misses his mother."
“I will most assuredly take them with us.” Zeke inclined his head then relayed my response. The older boys, they seemed the most reluctant to trust us. I did not blame them. Adults had mistreated them badly. Why should they place trust in two men who they did not know? “If they get into the wagon, they may eat while we ride to free the others.”
The group looked at each other. Zeke translated for the native boys. The twins eyed us warily then one hungry young man broke from the pack. Another then another climbed into the large covered wagon. I handed the clingy lad on my hip to one of the teen boys. He took care not to touch me. Soon the night was filled with the sound of feasting: metal spoons hitting bowls, slurping, belching, and whispering among themselves. Zeke had brought the horses as the boys ate. We waited by the windmill. Zeke smoked. I counted each squeak of the windmill as it slowly blew in circles. It took all the patience I possessed to not stroll over and demand directions from the boys.
Slowly one of the eldest walked over to us. He was lanky, lean, haunted.
“We drive the wagon. We`ll go to the house first, you come in the back through the kitchen. The others will be in the lesson room in the basement this late at night. We`ll wait by the barn. If you hurt anyone besides Emerson or his men, I will shoot you in the fucking face, lawman or not.”
“Fair enough,” I said. The young man turned on his heel, gathered up one of the smaller boys who had curiously followed him over, and then disappeared into the chuck wagon. Zeke and I exchanged a look then saddled up.
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 with more from the old West!
This week our word prompt 'Mother’. In this excerpt Clayton and Zeke grow even closer.
A note for my readers: This is a gay romance novel, and so the romance that occurs is man on man. If this is not your cup of tea, no one will think less of you if you read no further. This excerpt also contains some graphic and violent scenes.
As this is my NaNo work, it is quite rough. I do ask that you overlook any glaring mistakes you may find. Please do check out the other wonderful writers after you`re done reading by clicking on the Tuesday Tales link at the bottom. Thanks for stopping in!
By dusk I was as contrary as a cougar with a thorn in its paw. The herd was milling around a windmill watering system. We had found refuge behind a tree line. I had to assume the tree line was a property boundary. Zeke and I sat our horses, peering at a most peculiar sight. Two large tents were set up near the large in-ground tank. Boys of various ages were seen milling about. None were past the age of fourteen I would hazard. Some seemed as young as say eight. I counted no more than ten young ones. The eldest wore side-arms. That told us that they were in charge of the encampment. That also told us we could not simply ride in unannounced. Young men with guns were foolish to the extreme.
Dog was lying on the edge of the herd, his head on his front paws, his ears twitching. I was at wits end when a hue and cry went up in the camp. Zeke and I slid out of our saddles. We led the horses behind the trees as a rattling chuck wagon rolled into sight from the east. The boys came running. The wagon pulled in between the two large tents. The children stood straight as new boards, their hands at their sides, their heads downcast. Zeke cleared his throat. I handed him my canteen without looking at him. He drank.I watched in some sort of sickly horror as one lad was chosen from among the others by the man who must be the cook. He spoke to the young man, took his arm, and led him from the line. The other boys did not move as their counterpart was dragged into tent. The flap was thrown closed. The hungry shepherds stood at attention.
“This is not going to continue,” I said looking over to see if my deputy would argue discretion. He handed me back my canteen, his lips moist and full.
“You take the adult. I`ll try to subdue the children without scaring them further.”
I dearly wanted to say how much I loved him. I did not though. I think he knew. We left the horses tied to the trees. Dog raised his head when we approached on hand and knee. His tail whipped the stubble that was once grass. I motioned to Zeke that I planned to sneak into the tent from the rear. He nodded then spoke to Dog in a gruff whisper. The dog rose up, stretched, and then bounded into the herd. Sheep scattered to the four winds, eyes round with terror. Zeke and I made our moves. I rushed to the back of the tent, my Henry loaded. The shouts and pandemonium created by a dog among the sheep covered much. It muted my entrance. It also drowned the whimpers of a child about to be sorely abused by an adult.
The cook, he was a thin man, long-nosed with sparse hair. His balding pate was damp with sweat. His pants were around his ankles. The boy was splayed over a table, his trousers loose but not down. I did not ask any questions. I shot point blank. The cook lost the top of his head. The lad began to scream. He made no move to hike up his trousers, nor run, or even fall to the ground in relief or shame. He just lay over the scarred table screaming. I gathered the boy up. He did not fight. Outside I went, my repeating rifle aimed at the ground. The sheep had broken into small groups. The boys were one large knot. Zeke stood in front of them, one hand on each of his revolvers, his stance showing he would brook no sudden movement. The two teenagers, they stood bravely in front of the younger boys, but in their eyes you could see the terror.
“You have no cause to fear us,” I said, a traumatized young man riding on my hip. “We`re lawmen,” I said then glanced down at the silver star above my heart. “This man is my deputy.” All eyes roamed to Zeke. He tapped his bronze star. Some of the anxiety blew away on the warm evening breeze. “I am in search of a young boy, four years old. Sandy hair like mine who goes by the name Boyden.”
A young Indian boy stepped out from among the crowd. I looked them all over slowly. It seemed to be a diverse group of slaves. Some Indian, some Mexican, four Negro, and a few white like the twins we had met earlier. A motley group of castoff street rats that would not be missed. Or so the ringleaders had thought. The boy marched up to Zeke. They fell into a stilted conversation in a choppy tongue. The boy on my hip still cried, but the wailing had lessened. I tried to set him to his feet but he would have nothing of it.
“He asks that if they tell us where the Boyden boy is will we take them with us. He misses his mother."
“I will most assuredly take them with us.” Zeke inclined his head then relayed my response. The older boys, they seemed the most reluctant to trust us. I did not blame them. Adults had mistreated them badly. Why should they place trust in two men who they did not know? “If they get into the wagon, they may eat while we ride to free the others.”
The group looked at each other. Zeke translated for the native boys. The twins eyed us warily then one hungry young man broke from the pack. Another then another climbed into the large covered wagon. I handed the clingy lad on my hip to one of the teen boys. He took care not to touch me. Soon the night was filled with the sound of feasting: metal spoons hitting bowls, slurping, belching, and whispering among themselves. Zeke had brought the horses as the boys ate. We waited by the windmill. Zeke smoked. I counted each squeak of the windmill as it slowly blew in circles. It took all the patience I possessed to not stroll over and demand directions from the boys.
Slowly one of the eldest walked over to us. He was lanky, lean, haunted.
“We drive the wagon. We`ll go to the house first, you come in the back through the kitchen. The others will be in the lesson room in the basement this late at night. We`ll wait by the barn. If you hurt anyone besides Emerson or his men, I will shoot you in the fucking face, lawman or not.”
“Fair enough,” I said. The young man turned on his heel, gathered up one of the smaller boys who had curiously followed him over, and then disappeared into the chuck wagon. Zeke and I exchanged a look then saddled up.
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 with more from the old West!
May 11, 2014
My Book Boyfriend Blog Hop - Free Book Giveaway!
Hi and welcome to my tiny corner of the interweb! My name is V.L. Locey and, as you can see by the header, I`m a multigenre erotic romance author. That means I follow my muse where she leads me in terms of genre as well gender of my romantic leads. I write both M/F and M/M romances in a wide variety of settings, places, and even times.
Since the theme of this hop is book boyfriends, I thought I`d chat about the men of my M/F erotic hockey romance novels. I love my fictional hockey team, the Philadelphia Wildcats. And how lucky a woman am I to have an entire roster of men as my book boyfriends? Is there anything as hot as an athlete? They`re always aggressive, alpha males who have no objections to getting down and dirty. Oh my, it`s getting kind of warm in here. Let`s notch things up a bit more, shall we? Come meet a few of my Wildcats! Pick which one tickles your fancy, leave me a comment telling which Wildcat you`d like to cuddle up with, and your name will be entered in a drawing for a copy of Pink Pucks & Power Plays, the first book in the To Love a Wildcat series!
Warning! The following excerpts contain some bad words and sexual situations. If that offends, now would be the time to move onto the next blog in the hop. I won`t take it personally.
*~*
Alain Lessard is a defenseman for the Wildcats. Black curly hair, hazel eyes, Alain hails from Quebec. He`s tall, fit, playful, and about twelve years younger than his Viviana who is in her mid thirties. (She dislikes me mentioning just how far into her thirties) Just imagine that French-Canadian accent as Alain and Viviana have this little interchange that can be found in Pink Pucks & Power Plays--
Amazon Buy Link
“Sorry,” I whispered, dropping a kiss to his belly button. “No worries,” he said, pushing his fingers absently through my knotted layered haircut. “Any words of wisdom for the coach of a losing team?” I asked, looking up at him. He was the epitome of contended male: one arm under his head, his upper body resting on pillows, and his recently well-screwed lover reclining betwixt his muscular legs. “Your defense sucks.”“Do you think you can be a teensy bit moredirect?” I frowned laying my cheek against his navel again.
“You asked, Viviana,” he reminded me as he worked on the snarls in my hair. “Did you read the defensive drills in the playbook I gave you?”“Yes,” I said. He made a noise of disbelief. “I didread them. They just made no sense to me.”
“Then why did you not ask me to explain them to you?” he asked. I shrugged. He grunted. “Ah, you did not ask because you did not care. Well, now you care, yes?”“Yes,” I sighed dramatically and rolled my eyes.“Go get the book and I will read them with you.”
“Right now?”I whined then buried my face in his stomach. God, I loved the smell of him after sex. I loved it before sex as well, and during too. Rolling over in the morning to inhale his scent on my pillows and sheets and covers and skin is becoming a wicked addiction.
*~*
Veikko Aho. Veikko is one of the league`s most elite goaltenders. He`s 32, stands over six feet tall, has sandy-blond hair, light blue eyes, is half Finnish/half Swedish, and is the epitome of style, class, movie star good looks, and wealth. When he speaks his accent is slight but still able to be heard. Despite all the refinement that the man oozes, he still has his moments of lusty bad boy when it comes to pleasing Liz Argon, his shy leading lady. Check out this snippet from book two of the series, A Most Unlikely Countess--
Amazon Buy Link
“This is one thing I need to feel on my tongue,” he murmured into my stomach then sucked my bellybutton ring between his lips. With both hands I grabbed his head to shove his face into my abdomen. He chuckled and began suckling my navel as well as the tiny silver ring until my words were sloppily incoherent. His hands were fondling my tits while he tongued my bellybutton. I wanted his mouth lower. I told him so breathlessly. Pinching my nipples he left my navel to sit back.
There was a moment, when he placed his hand flat to my concave stomach, that I feared he had finally gotten a good look at my boyish figure and was trying to decide how best to bolt. He stared at me splayed out before him for so long I started to raise my arms to cover my bared breasts.
His gaze moved from my body to my face. I began to work my lower lip self-consciously. “Stop staring at me,” I whimpered as my breasts grew warm and pink.
“I can`t,” he said, hooking his thumbs into the purple strings of my thong, “You`re built just perfectly, Elizabeth. Tall and thin…lean like a gazelle.” He wiggled the scrap of cloth downward. His words of praise for my skinny body had my hips lifting wantonly.
*~*
Derrick Andersson is the next leading man to meet. Derrick is forty years old with brown hair, neatly trimmed beard, and sparkling green eyes. He is the captain, and first line center, of the Philadelphia Wildcats, and hails from Minnesota. Hockey, though, has taken a toll on our captain`s body. His knees are about shot and his ice time gets shorter and shorter every year. All those battle scars don`t offend 40 year old Maggie Charles, though. The divorced, single mother of a rowdy teen finds the big, tough, mountain of a man just right.
O Captain! My Captain! is now being edited, so I don`t have a cover to share. I do have a sexy picture which should work well! Maggie and Derrick`s book should be out within two months if all goes well. Here`s an exclusive sneak peek!
“You got to go to the bathroom?” Derrick asked sleepily, his words ruffling the hair on the back of my head. “I need aspirin,” I whined as the bed heaved and hawed. Derrick rolled closer to me. His right leg slid through my thighs with startling familiarity. I loved it.
“Yah, I could use a few too,” he muttered groggily before kissing the nape of my neck. I liked that as well. I asked him to repeat the gesture so he did. “Maggie, I would like to see you again, and not for just this either, although this was good, don`t you know?” Ah, that accent. 'This' was ‘dis’, 'then' was ‘den’, and 'that' was ‘dat’. I really enjoyed hearing it but thought to tease the hulk a tiny bit anyway. “Did you forget your T`s somewhere, Captain?”
“Hey now, don`t be running down the accent,” he responded then nipped my naked shoulder. “So, yah, what do you say? You think you could maybe be going out with a frizzled old gimp like me?” “Oh yeah, I think I could certainly go out with a frizzled old gimp like you.” I wiggled backwards far enough to feel his cock gently poking my backside. A rush of ‘Gimme Some’ ran through my bloodstream, stunning my brain into a momentary lack of agony. Sadly the ringing of my cell from within my purse put a damper on the late night-early morning festivities.
*~*
I hope you enjoyed meeting a few of my sexy book boyfriends! There will be a few more Wildcats gents to come as the rest of the books in the series come out. If you wish you can hop on along to the other authors who are participating in the hop by using this link back to the main blogs:
Harper A. Brooks
T.F. Walsh
Also make sure you enter the rafflecopter for a chance at even more prizes!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
And don`t forget to visit all the participating authors for even more chances to win:
Book Boyfriend Blog Hop Participating Authors
For those who wish to enter the giveaway for a free copy of Pink Pucks & Power Plays, you may leave your comment, with your contact information, below. Please make sure you enclose your email. If you don`t, I will have no way to contact you, and I`ll be forced to skip over your comment. So let me know where I can find you, enjoy the hop, and thanks so much for stopping by!
V.L Locey
Since the theme of this hop is book boyfriends, I thought I`d chat about the men of my M/F erotic hockey romance novels. I love my fictional hockey team, the Philadelphia Wildcats. And how lucky a woman am I to have an entire roster of men as my book boyfriends? Is there anything as hot as an athlete? They`re always aggressive, alpha males who have no objections to getting down and dirty. Oh my, it`s getting kind of warm in here. Let`s notch things up a bit more, shall we? Come meet a few of my Wildcats! Pick which one tickles your fancy, leave me a comment telling which Wildcat you`d like to cuddle up with, and your name will be entered in a drawing for a copy of Pink Pucks & Power Plays, the first book in the To Love a Wildcat series!
Warning! The following excerpts contain some bad words and sexual situations. If that offends, now would be the time to move onto the next blog in the hop. I won`t take it personally.
*~*
Alain Lessard is a defenseman for the Wildcats. Black curly hair, hazel eyes, Alain hails from Quebec. He`s tall, fit, playful, and about twelve years younger than his Viviana who is in her mid thirties. (She dislikes me mentioning just how far into her thirties) Just imagine that French-Canadian accent as Alain and Viviana have this little interchange that can be found in Pink Pucks & Power Plays--
Amazon Buy Link
“Sorry,” I whispered, dropping a kiss to his belly button. “No worries,” he said, pushing his fingers absently through my knotted layered haircut. “Any words of wisdom for the coach of a losing team?” I asked, looking up at him. He was the epitome of contended male: one arm under his head, his upper body resting on pillows, and his recently well-screwed lover reclining betwixt his muscular legs. “Your defense sucks.”“Do you think you can be a teensy bit moredirect?” I frowned laying my cheek against his navel again.
“You asked, Viviana,” he reminded me as he worked on the snarls in my hair. “Did you read the defensive drills in the playbook I gave you?”“Yes,” I said. He made a noise of disbelief. “I didread them. They just made no sense to me.”
“Then why did you not ask me to explain them to you?” he asked. I shrugged. He grunted. “Ah, you did not ask because you did not care. Well, now you care, yes?”“Yes,” I sighed dramatically and rolled my eyes.“Go get the book and I will read them with you.”
“Right now?”I whined then buried my face in his stomach. God, I loved the smell of him after sex. I loved it before sex as well, and during too. Rolling over in the morning to inhale his scent on my pillows and sheets and covers and skin is becoming a wicked addiction.
*~*
Veikko Aho. Veikko is one of the league`s most elite goaltenders. He`s 32, stands over six feet tall, has sandy-blond hair, light blue eyes, is half Finnish/half Swedish, and is the epitome of style, class, movie star good looks, and wealth. When he speaks his accent is slight but still able to be heard. Despite all the refinement that the man oozes, he still has his moments of lusty bad boy when it comes to pleasing Liz Argon, his shy leading lady. Check out this snippet from book two of the series, A Most Unlikely Countess--
Amazon Buy Link
“This is one thing I need to feel on my tongue,” he murmured into my stomach then sucked my bellybutton ring between his lips. With both hands I grabbed his head to shove his face into my abdomen. He chuckled and began suckling my navel as well as the tiny silver ring until my words were sloppily incoherent. His hands were fondling my tits while he tongued my bellybutton. I wanted his mouth lower. I told him so breathlessly. Pinching my nipples he left my navel to sit back.
There was a moment, when he placed his hand flat to my concave stomach, that I feared he had finally gotten a good look at my boyish figure and was trying to decide how best to bolt. He stared at me splayed out before him for so long I started to raise my arms to cover my bared breasts.
His gaze moved from my body to my face. I began to work my lower lip self-consciously. “Stop staring at me,” I whimpered as my breasts grew warm and pink.
“I can`t,” he said, hooking his thumbs into the purple strings of my thong, “You`re built just perfectly, Elizabeth. Tall and thin…lean like a gazelle.” He wiggled the scrap of cloth downward. His words of praise for my skinny body had my hips lifting wantonly.
*~*
Derrick Andersson is the next leading man to meet. Derrick is forty years old with brown hair, neatly trimmed beard, and sparkling green eyes. He is the captain, and first line center, of the Philadelphia Wildcats, and hails from Minnesota. Hockey, though, has taken a toll on our captain`s body. His knees are about shot and his ice time gets shorter and shorter every year. All those battle scars don`t offend 40 year old Maggie Charles, though. The divorced, single mother of a rowdy teen finds the big, tough, mountain of a man just right.
O Captain! My Captain! is now being edited, so I don`t have a cover to share. I do have a sexy picture which should work well! Maggie and Derrick`s book should be out within two months if all goes well. Here`s an exclusive sneak peek!
“You got to go to the bathroom?” Derrick asked sleepily, his words ruffling the hair on the back of my head. “I need aspirin,” I whined as the bed heaved and hawed. Derrick rolled closer to me. His right leg slid through my thighs with startling familiarity. I loved it.
“Yah, I could use a few too,” he muttered groggily before kissing the nape of my neck. I liked that as well. I asked him to repeat the gesture so he did. “Maggie, I would like to see you again, and not for just this either, although this was good, don`t you know?” Ah, that accent. 'This' was ‘dis’, 'then' was ‘den’, and 'that' was ‘dat’. I really enjoyed hearing it but thought to tease the hulk a tiny bit anyway. “Did you forget your T`s somewhere, Captain?”
“Hey now, don`t be running down the accent,” he responded then nipped my naked shoulder. “So, yah, what do you say? You think you could maybe be going out with a frizzled old gimp like me?” “Oh yeah, I think I could certainly go out with a frizzled old gimp like you.” I wiggled backwards far enough to feel his cock gently poking my backside. A rush of ‘Gimme Some’ ran through my bloodstream, stunning my brain into a momentary lack of agony. Sadly the ringing of my cell from within my purse put a damper on the late night-early morning festivities.
*~*
I hope you enjoyed meeting a few of my sexy book boyfriends! There will be a few more Wildcats gents to come as the rest of the books in the series come out. If you wish you can hop on along to the other authors who are participating in the hop by using this link back to the main blogs:
Harper A. Brooks
T.F. Walsh
Also make sure you enter the rafflecopter for a chance at even more prizes!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
And don`t forget to visit all the participating authors for even more chances to win:
Book Boyfriend Blog Hop Participating Authors
For those who wish to enter the giveaway for a free copy of Pink Pucks & Power Plays, you may leave your comment, with your contact information, below. Please make sure you enclose your email. If you don`t, I will have no way to contact you, and I`ll be forced to skip over your comment. So let me know where I can find you, enjoy the hop, and thanks so much for stopping by!
V.L Locey
