Welcome to the blog, V.L. Locey!
Roxanne Jones has one day off this weekend. She does not want to spend it carrying her unmentionables to the nearby Laundromat but Fate has different plans. When the washing machine in her apartment building dies mid-cycle, Roxanne has no choice but to finish her laundry across the street. Once inside the Tumble Dry launderette, she discovers that the dryers aren`t the only hot things to watch. In walks a younger man wearing the only clean items left in his wardrobe: torn jeans, sandals, tattoos, sex appeal, and a few well-placed piercings. When the two lock gazes no amount of fabric softener can stop the sparks from flying. It doesn`t take long for Donovan King, an English major at the local college, to not only woo Roxanne, he manages to begin to a steamy seduction that won`t end until both are well-tumbled.
“So do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Have a couple of spare quarters? Since you won’t let my man things gyrate around in the water with your woman things.”
Was he saying those kinds of things on purpose? Of course he was, if the puckish grin he now wore was any indicator. Oh, I did like this man. A lot.
“Honey, I’m not sure that your man things are man enough to gyrate with my woman things,” I parried. He chortled then leaned a hip into the washer, his arms folding over his bare chest.
“I’m pretty sure that they are.” He said it with utmost confidence in the prowess of his man things. I sucked down a large gulp, the twinge behind my eye reminding me to slow down. I sipped and enjoyed looking at him, spying a small, silver navel ring glistening from the neon lights overhead. My mouth was dry even though I had just swallowed some of my drink. His steady gaze made me fidget.
“Rather sure of your man things, aren’t you?” I finally said, as I tossed my change purse to him. He caught it with one hand, his eyes never leaving my face.
“Rather,” he commented offhandedly, opened the tiny bag then extracted four quarters. My tongue toyed with the end of my straw. He laid the purse on the top of the machine next to his then arranged the coins in the slots, all four standing erect. Mmm, what a nice word that is. Erect. Makes all sorts of dirty, sweaty images appear inside a woman’s mind, doesn’t it?
“Excuse me, sir, but this cart is mine.”
“Really? And how is that, Roxanne? Clearly I was here first.” He leaned over the cart, his scruffy cheek brushing mine he whispered beside my ear. “You were engrossed with erotic thoughts about my mouth and the pleasure it could bring you.”
He drew back. My brain shut down as my mouth dropped open. That was all the time Donavon needed to commandeer the cart.
“No I wasn’t.” There. Take that. I bet that verbal spear pierced a few vitals. Not.
Damn the man for reading me like that beaten-up poetry book of his. He shrugged a shoulder, the inked one. An emerald-eyed tiger rolled it’s head at the up and down motion.
“Yeah, you totally were. Would you like me to tell you the signs of arousal that you’re wearing at the moment?” He threw several pairs of wet jeans into the cart. They landed with a slap.
“The only thing that I’m wearing at the moment is a dash of lovely,” I countered quickly.
“Yes, you are incredibly lovely, and horny. Your nostrils are flared, your eyes are wanton, your nipples are hard, and you keep licking your lips.” He paused in tossing balled-up shirts into the cart. “You also keep crossing and uncrossing your legs.”
Shit. Okay. So the man knew I was sporting a big girl-boner for him.
“Maybe I just have hives.” I tugged the cart away from him then stalked over to my washer with the buggy in tow. I heard his throaty chuckle behind me.
“Maybe you want me to take you somewhere private and read you something…Sapphic.”
He was right behind me, his breath fluttering past my left ear, his body close enough to exchange sparks with mine. Damn. Damn. Damn. My spine stiffened, as did my nipples. They were now so hard they hurt.
“You think reading me lesbian poetry will turn me on?” I inquired, trying to sound as if his smoldering nearness was having no effect. The smoky cast to my voice kind of ruined the indifferent attitude I was going for.
“I think you’re already turned on.” I heard the cart being nudged aside. I stood as still as a deer in a strange meadow, alert to every sound. My fingers gripped the lid to the machine as he stepped closer. The touch of his chest to my back was seismic. Desire didn’t just uncoil like a snake finding a warm rock, it rose up like a jungle cat, and then stretched, sharp claws of need raking open my calm exterior.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and two steers: one named after a famous N.H.L. goalie while the other carries the moniker of a 60`s pop legend.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.
I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-
Secret Cravings Backlist Books:
Pink Pucks & Power Plays (Book One of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
A Most Unlikely Countess (Book Two of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
O Captain! My Captain!(Book Three of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Reality Check (Book Four of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Torquere Press Backlist and Upcoming Releases
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse (Part of the He Loves Me For My Brainssss anthology)
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 2: It Came From Birmingham
Two Guys Walk Into an Apocalypse 3″ He’s a Lumberjack and He`s Undead
Love of the Hunter
All I Want for Christmas
Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)
Night of the Jackal
And coming in 2015 exclusively from Torquere Press . . . An Erie Operetta and Early to Rise – A Toms & Tabbies Tale.
Hi everyone! It’s time for Tuesday Tales! This week is a picture prompt. We are with Gideon and Emma in our Steampunk Romance. To make the picture work I had to jump ahead in the story.
Don’t forget to check out the other incredible excerpts from the Tuesday Tales authors!
Emma clung to the seat of the carriage for dear life. Gideon glanced over to her and chuckled. Her knuckles were literally white. “I thought you liked my creations,” he purred.
Her answer came through clenched teeth. “Your little creatures never tried to kill me. Just your humidor. And this.”
“My carriage won’t kill you, my love.”
Emma glared at him, her beautiful blue eyes icy. She didn’t look convinced.
It wasn’t long before London faded into the background. The brick buildings and mulling people were replaced by snow covered fields and cottages. The carriage puffed steam merrily as it chugged down the dirt road, the clouds drifting lazily from the vehicle.
A small white house nestled amongst tall, towering evergreens came into view. A barn with a wooden fence bordering it stood just feet away from it. Gideon maneuvered the carriage through the snow to the house. Stepping out into the drift, he offered his hand to Emma. “Let me take you inside and get you warm. I will come for our things shortly.”
“Who lives here?” Emma inquired.
“No one. I purchased it during my leave before Sophia’s death. I hoped to move my family here. When they died I never came back. Are you coming in?”
Emma slipped her hand into his then hopped out of the carriage. Gideon scooped her into his arms before her foot hit the cold, wet fluff below. She gaped at him astonished. He flashed her a wink as he unlocked the door with one hand and carried her inside.
Gideon gently set Emma on her feet inside the door then strode to the fireplace to start the fire. As the flames began to flicker around the dry logs, he turned to her. “It will be a while for the room to warm. I will get you a blanket.”
She crossed the room and took his hand in hers. “I have a better idea.”
“Where’s the bedroom? The warmth of your naked body will keep me warm.”
A sly smirk spread across his lips. Her mere suggestion set him on fire. “This way, my lady.”
Hello everyone and welcome to the Secret Cravings Publishing Wounded Warrior Project Blog Hop! Each author in this hop is donating $30 to the Wounded Warrior Project. Check out their incredible work by clicking here!
What our men and women of the Armed Services is simply amazing. Thank you so much for keeping us free!
Since each of my series has a military character in them I will award one lucky commenter the entire Black Irish series in the e-book format of their choice (including the soon to be released Trial by Fire) and another lucky commenter will win the entire Hard Drive series! I will pick the winners Sunday night.
Avery Walker is one of my newest characters and quickly became one of my favorites. A Marine who lost her hearing when her transport was destroyed in Afghanistan, she is feisty, strong and has a huge problem with celebrities. This proves to be a problem for her new love, Rico Choate, who just happens to be a well known MMA fighter.
Here is an excerpt from Breaking the Silence (Hard Drive #2)…
Avery’s heart thundered in her chest as she snapped awake. Her open mouth told her she had to be screaming. The back of her hand burned from something rough scratching against it. She frantically searched around. Her breathing slowed as she realized she was in her living room. The television flashed the DVD logo. She glanced at the cable box—two fourteen in the morning. She felt the couch shift beside her. She rubbed the back of her hand as she slowly turned around.
Rico massaged his jaw as he stared at her with concern. She felt her face flush hot. The light burn against her skin had been the stubble on his cheek. She had smacked him in her sleep.
He let go of his face to sign to her. Are you all right? Nightmare?
Avery shrugged. Sort of. Memories I would rather forget.
Rico’s expression darkened. Afghanistan. The bomb.
She nodded. He tugged her into his arms and held her tight. She felt his forearms let her loose while his biceps still hugged her tight. His fingers appeared between them.
I will never let anything happen to you. Ever. I promise you.
She looked at him, slowly exploring his cheekbones, his slightly crooked nose, his sapphire blue eyes. No one had ever promised to protect her. She took care of herself. No one had ever cared about her that much before.
She smiled as she kissed him. His lips parted, his tongue tracing her teeth before tangling with hers. She felt the butterflies let loose in her belly as his fingers, the ones that told her everything about him, now gently stroked her flesh at the curve of her back just above the waistband of her jeans. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. It’s late. You need sleep. I need to get home.
She gazed into his eyes before she signed her response. Stay here tonight, curled up on the couch with me. In case I have more nightmares.
He smiled warmly at her as he caressed her hair. Of course, I will.
Avery cuddled against his chest with a sigh. She could feel the thud of his heart against her cheek. She looked up and met his eyes.
Tell me about it, he signed.
What happened in Afghanistan.
Her breath caught in her throat. She had never told anyone about the bombing, not even her family. It had torn her Dad apart. She was Daddy’s only girl, and he couldn’t help her. But her father wasn’t Rico. Her family had never vowed to protect her. They had made decisions for her, as if she was no longer able to do so for herself. They had taken over as her caretakers when she didn’t need caretakers.
She needed someone to break down her walls, to hold her, to listen. Like Rico did.
She sighed. I was Military Police Officer at Camp Dwyer in the Helmand River Valley of the Garmsir District. Almost instantly, I became friends with Davey. I think he was hoping for more at first, but I had no interest. I was more worried about my career. I wanted to be like my Dad. Davey and I became best friends. We told each other everything. Having someone like that made living in a war torn country a little easier.
One morning, we loaded into the transport to travel to one of the checkpoints. Davey was going on about the Yankees. He had just caught a game. Even though I had told him many times I had no interest in baseball, he always bragged about them. And I always listened.
Her eyes burned. Out of nowhere, the truck filled with fire. I tried grabbing for Davey, but grazed his arm as I was thrown out of the vehicle. The explosion was the last thing I heard. I thought I saw gunfire above. I tried staying awake, tried to fight back, but everything went dark.
I woke up in the field hospital. I could see people talking to me, but couldn’t hear them. It was maddening. I found out my eardrums had been ruptured. I also suffered other injuries. She pulled back her long, blonde curls to show the scaring on her neck. Then, she pulled her shirt off her shoulder to reveal another set of scars. Rico dipped his lips against her skin, kissing her wounds. She smiled softly as the butterflies let loose in her belly again.
She took a deep breath to steady herself before she continued. When I was finally able to communicate, I asked where Davey was. He was big. He was strong. And he was probably tearing the place apart looking for me.
I was told he was killed instantly by the IED. I didn’t believe the doctor who told me. He just did not know Davey. But then, my commanding officer sat down and told me the same thing. Then, he told me I was being sent to a military hospital in the States. I didn’t have time to mourn. I couldn’t. I swallowed my feelings, thanked him for all he had done for me, and prepared to leave.
My parents met me at the hospital and immediately took over my life. They made my decisions for me. I no longer spoke for myself. They lined up every medical professional they could think of to research if my hearing loss could be reversed. It couldn’t. I could only take so much before I e-mailed Lindsay, moved here, and started my classes. That’s it. That’s how I got here.
Rico gazed down at her as he gently brushed her hair from her face. I am so sorry, baby.
Nothing to be sorry for.
You are an incredible woman, Avery. I do not deserve you.
She smiled. Probably not. But I love you, anyway.
Avery snuggled close as she yawned. Rico tugged the blanket she had brought from her bedroom around them both then settled into the pillow she had gotten for him. She pressed her cheek to his chest again, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as she drifted back to sleep.
***The Winner of The Black Irish Series is Jeanine and the winner of The Hard Drive Series is Amy Rose Bennett! Thank you everyone for commenting!!***
Black Irish – I originally shared this as a serial on this blog. And the original concept inspiration behind Sloan O’Riley was my late grandfather. Granted, once Sloan took shape he was definitely not Grandpa!
Queen of Savon – a dream inspired this book, a dream about me and two guys I was forced to choose between. There was a lot of white flowing curtains and a bed and…well, it could have gone completely different.
It was also written long before Black Irish.
Heartland – this was my favorite location-wise. Nearly all the landmarks are near where I live so it was fun to describe them.
The Troubles – this was my first book set in Minneapolis. I love, love, love Minneapolis. If I didn’t live where I am now I’d live in Minneapolis.
Also, I had the entire plotline of The Troubles in my head before I had Heartland. I forced myself to write Heartland before I could write a word of The Troubles. It was hell.
Breaking the Cycle – Breaking the Cycle was never supposed to be a series. All I wanted was to bring awareness to Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome. Everyone loved it so much I thought “why not?”.
Also, my love for MMA came from researching this book. Before my opinion was the same as most people’s. Now I am a mixed martial artist. 😊
Oh…and my coach, Keoni Koch, is the cover model!
The Thirteenth Knight – This was my first Tuesday Tale. Tuesday Tales is a group of writers who post a 300 word excerpt every Tuesday. They are a group of very awesome people. You can find us here.
Breaking the Silence – This was the first book I wrote where one of the primary characters was based on someone I know personally, someone I care a lot about. It’s probably my favorite character. No, they don’t know.
The Peculiar Princess – this was the first book I ever wrote. The illustration of Penelope is supposed to look like my daughter.
The Finicky Fairy – Like Peculiar Princess the illustration of Fiona is supposed to be my niece.
Innocent till Proven Guilty – the hotel in the book was a real hotel. By the time I was old enough to remember it was boarded up. The place totally fascinated me.
Trial by Fire (releasing December 11th) – I love badass heroines. I figured it was time for Abbey to be a badass heroine.
It’s Thanksgiving, a time to think about what we’re thankful for. Let me share a few things I am thankful for not just on Thanksgiving but every day (not in any particular order).
First of all, I am thankful for my husband Brian. It takes the patience of a saint to live with me. He believes in every crazy ass scheme I come up with whether it’s a new book or a new tattoo. He loves me despite every pissy fit I throw or every mistake I make. I love him with all my heart.
In the same vein, I am thankful for my kids. Three very different personalities, three very unique and incredible people. I’m blessed to be their mom.
I am thankful for my parents. They believe in me, support me and make me feel like a rockstar. Plus they are always there when I need them. I am also grateful for my brother and his family, my parents-in-law and all my siblings-in-law for your love and support.
I am thankful for my readers. You guys let me do what I love. For that I will love you forever.
This year I am thankful to be here to type this. Not many people know that in September I spent five days in the hospital fighting for my life. I am thankful for the medical personnel at Mercy Medical Center who helped me heal.
I am thankful for two men I will let remain nameless but know who they are. It hasn’t even been a year and we’ve been through a lot, boys. Thank you. You’ve been there for all the moments of self doubt. You’ve let me go bat crap crazy. You’ve given me strength to stand, to get to where I am. Despite everything that has happened, the good and the bad, I will always be grateful for both of you.
I am thankful for my sisters in violence (wow, that doesn’t sound nice does it?). We’ve done more than train together. We’ve talked. We’ve cried. We’ve laughed. A lot. You are all some of the most incredible women I’ve ever met. Thanks for putting up with me.
I have said this more than I can count but I won’t ever stop saying it. I am thankful for my second family at Hard Drive MMA. I have gone through many years feeling like the square peg trying to fit in the round hole. Finally I feel like I belong. Not to mention, I am probably in the best shape of my life. So to my brothers and sisters – thank you with all my heart. I am proud to be part of this family.
I am thankful to my publishers, Secret Cravings and Beau Coup, and everyone involved with these two incredible companies. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for giving me a voice.
I am thankful for two groups I have had the honor to work with – the Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome Association and Operation First Response. They do incredible work and have made me feel like part of their family. Thank you.
Thank you to my family and friends both new and you poor suckers who have dealt with me for this long. You are the sunshine in my day.
There are so many other things to be grateful for in my life, way too numerous to count. I am truly blessed to live my dream and be loved by so many.
Have a Happy, Safe and Blessed Thanksgiving!
Gideon slipped into the townhouse, softly shutting the door behind him. He talked longer with Edgar than he anticipated. It had been way too long since he spent time with his friend. Possibly he had arrived home before…
The soft clearing of a throat announced the worst. Emma was already awake. He turned to find her sitting naked in his favorite overtuffed chair. The sight sent him into a burning need for her.
“I thought we were going to defeat Katarina together,” she pouted.
Gideon knelt before the chair and took her hands in his. It took all the self control he possessed to not part her knees and kiss his way up her thigh. “Love, I just went to meet with Edgar. I asked him to get information for us on Katarina and the repairs on the humidor.”
“I still should have gone with you.”
“Katarina knows you are not dead. She has men prowling all over London who have orders to end your life if they see you.”
“I’m not afraid of them.”
Gideon parted her knees to draw her closer. He cupped her face in his hands. “I am. These men killed Sophia, my wife. My sweet, I love you more than I ever did her and she possessed my heart. If they took your life it would end mine. Do you understand?”
She nodded against his fingers. Her fingers rose to his and caressed them. A wicked smile slowly crept to her lips as she pressed herself against him. “And your plans for the rest of the day, dearest?”
Gideon ran the pad of his thumb against her bottom lip, tugging her mouth apart. He gazed at her hungrily. “You. You are my plans the rest of my day. Me deep inside you starting with this chair and ending in my bed.”
Emma could barely let go a gasp before Gideon enveloped her lips in a deep, devouring kiss.
Hey everyone! It’s time for Tuesday Tales! We’re back with Gideon and Emma in my Steampunk Romance. Will Edgar help Gideon? Let’s find out!
Gideon couldn’t help but notice the stark change in Edgar’s demeanor. The man who was once jovial was now just as serious as he. “What is it, Gideon?” Edgar questioned.
“Katarina Hellwig is the one responsible for Sophia’s death and Toby’s disappearance. She sent Sophia’s lover and Toby’s true father to do the deed. However I learned this after I turned the humidor I built to kill General Hellwig over to the bitch.”
Edgar muffled his gasp as the revelation. “What do you need of me?”
“I need you to find out when Katarina is going to present the humidor to the General. I am sure she is planning a elaborate affair when she does. I have disabled it but I am sure she is having it repaired as we speak.”
Edgar cocked an eyebrow at him. “How do you know all this?”
“I heard it from the Viper’s lips myself. I went to the mansion to confront Emma only to heard Katarina’s confession to use the humidor to not only kill her husband but to trap me into being her lover in the process.”
Edgar’s lips pressed into a thin, thoughtful line. “I know a few butlers and maids in the Hellwig mansion, none of which hold any affection for their mistress. I will ask around for the status of the humidor’s repairs and the impending presentation.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Gideon breathed. He picked up his ale and took a sip, startling and spilling a little of the brew as he felt Edgar’s elbow in his ribs. Edgar’s mischievous grin was back as he babbled on about the weather and the new Zeppelin christened into the queen’s navy. Gideon grinned in response as he mopped the ale from his shirt. The waiting for an answer would all but kill him. But he would do whatever it took to keep Emma and himself safe.