Monday, November 16, 2015

VL Locey stopped by today!



TITLE – Clean Sweep SERIES – Venom Series AUTHOR – V.L. Locey GENRE – Erotic Hockey Romance PUBLICATION DATE – Sept.26, 2015 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 155 pages/57,500 PUBLISHER – Gone Writing Publishing COVER ARTIST – Reverie Design


Clean Sweep - New Cover
Fiery, flame-haired Jane Bratkowski is catapulted from a small college town to Philadelphia to become head coach of a new women’s hockey team, The Venom. It’s a life-changing opportunity, a dream come true until – in a cruel twist of fate that could turn into a nightmare – she comes face to face with her ex-husband Tore Ahlberg, the Wildcats' head of European Scouting.
Suddenly, Jane’s faced with more challenges than she bargained for: Will she let him distract her -- and derail her big chance to coach pro hockey? Can she build a team of relatively inexperienced, irrepressible young women into champions? Can she and Tore triumph over the gut-wrenching tragedy that ripped them apart -- or will the shocking truth of their passionate past threaten to destroy them once again?



It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him how, or why, he remembered so much from our years of wedded bliss. Instead, I marched into the bathroom, Pomeranians in hand, then shut the door on him, his tie, and those damned recollections of a time best left in the past. 
I washed my face then set to work on detangling. I accomplished this with snarling expletives aimed at long dead ancestors. The boys were restless. I laid down my hairbrush then snuck over to the door. I couldn`t hear my ex on the other side. I cracked the door just enough to peer through. Tore was standing at the sliding glass door. He still cut a fine figure from the back even though he was now in his early fifties. Wide shoulders, lean waist, long legs. The sun made his straw-colored blonde hair look like spun gold. It was time to stop, Jane. I had thought to ask him to walk the dogs but after that Rumpelstiltskin moment, perhaps a brisk walk would do me good. I closed the door quietly. Ten minutes later I stepped out, face freshly scrubbed, hair beaten into submission, and dogs in dire need. 
"I have to get dressed," I told Tore when he turned from the city to look at me. 
"You want me to leave?" I nodded. "We were married, Jane. Unless you have done some alterations, there is nothing I have not seen before." 
I felt a slight flush rushing up behind the freckles on my cheeks. "There have been no alterations. Go wait on the patio. I mean it, Tore. Don`t give me that stupid look. Go." 
"Stupid look? I have a stupid look?" he asked, a definite twinkle in his eye. A sharp comment was resting on my tongue. I swallowed it back to be nice. It was only seven am. Even ex-husbands deserve a small kindness from time to time.


Author Photo - VL Locey
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, 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, two dogs, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and three Jersey steers.
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.



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Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Shannon O'Connor and Red Waves have stopped by to visit...

Audrey Brown is an intelligent Registered Nurse living in Surf City, USA, who puts
her career ahead of her love life. That is until pro-surfer, Chad Slater, gets wheeled into her emergency room and shakes down her formidable walls. But can her sex life go from zero to 69 with an ex-husband seeking revenge for her sending him to prison?
Chad has just the right mix of sexual charisma and determination to make all of Audrey’s dreams come true. This upbeat story includes humorous undertones with nail-biting suspense and enough sexual heat to make you stay up all night reading. Readers' romantic partners will find benefits, too!

“A twenty-nine year old surfer from the competition was pulled out of the water. They are bringing him in for precaution. His pulse ox was low at the beach. ETA in ten minutes,” the clerk says, throwing the words over her shoulder like it’s old news.
I stand frozen. My heart wants to leap out of my chest. Am I still standing? I can’t feel my legs or feet. 
“No, it can’t be him,” I whisper under my breath.
“Him who?” The clerk feigns interest, but keeps typing on her keyboard.
I guess I suck at whispering. “Umm…is it Chad Slater?”
“I wrote his name down. Let me see. Yes, his name is Chad Slater. Is he someone special, dear?” 
“You could say that.” 
Hasn’t she heard of him? He’s one of the most desirable bachelors in America. This isn’t happening to me. It’s hard enough for me to focus on my job when the damn firemen and paramedics make their visits. How am I going to deal with Chad as my patient? This is too much. 
I stumble to the room assigned for the tanned god. I’ve got to connect the new disposable blood pressure cuff and push a button waking the monitors from their slumber. I can’t control my hands from shaking and it takes a few attempts to spread the sheet out over the gurney. Get it together, Aud. You’re shaking like a leaf. Shit. I probably look like hell with barely any makeup on. 
“Are you the nurse taking Mr. Slater here?” The medic states as he looks down at his clipboard. 
What? It’s been ten minutes already?
I’m giddy. “Yes…yes I am.” The words stammer out of my mouth.
They wheel him in. I assess his hair, amazed that it still glistens with ocean water. He has a blanket over his body. Why do the paramedics always cover people up like it’s winter? It’s a sweltering summer day in Cali, guys. 
My gaze scans up and down this famous man’s body. Even under the cover, his muscles are hard and tight. 
The medic runs through Chad’s vitals and gives me a rundown of what they gave him in the ambulance. The patient’s pulse ox level has stabilized after being on oxygen by mask. 
Automatically, I use my left hand to jot my signature on the paperwork, so I can get started with Mr. Slater. It’s exciting to have him in front of me. My feelings carry me over to him like I’m caught in a strong riptide. I can’t fight against the force.
The medics carefully slide Chad onto the clean gurney and pull up the side rails. Chad moves his right arm up and rests it on the rail. He keeps his eyes shut tight. He may be too exhausted to open them. 
My thoughts wander to what his body would feel like against mine. In my mind, we’ve become exhausted during movie-style sex. However, those glorious thoughts are disturbed by my damn ex-husband’s verbal abuse that rings in my head like a terrible song, “You can’t even satisfy me.” It was one of his favorites.
Why flashbacks today? This hasn’t happened in years. My physical pain may have healed, but mental pain can last a lifetime. Worst timing ever. 
I close my eyes and quickly meditate to send my ex-abuser out of my head. 
Once his voice has vanished, I get to work sliding the blood pressure cuff over Chad’s toned bicep. I smooth the Velcro together to secure it and hit the monitor button to spark the machine into action. Next, I place the lead stickers over his chest. I hover above his pecs. I can’t help myself as I inhale his scent deeply. He smells like the ocean. I have a favorite candle called tropical waters, and his smell is identical. I set my gaze to enjoy the features of his face. His jaw and forehead are rugged, while his perfectly arched eyebrows and plump heart-shaped mouth remind me of his mother’s, but he’s still all man. 
I have to lean over him to hookup the monitor leads. He has the sexiest six-pack rising up and down along with his chest muscles. They move in time with his relaxed breathing. He looks like the actor who played in that movie, The Legend of Hercules, but not as beefy. The actor had to pump up, big time, to play a mythical Greek god. Chad wouldn’t have to do a thing to play the part in my dreams.
Softly, I speak against his ear. I’m careful not to fully disturb his much needed rest. Wish I could kiss and suck on his earlobe right now, but the doctor will charge in any second. Bad language and now I want to molest a patient. What’s wrong with me? Am I trying to get fired? 
Chad opens up his baby blues as I move back from his ear. I smile and try to blow out nerves growing inside me. 
His eyes widen and brows perk up. He stares into my eyes. Does he recognize me? It’s been so long.
“Anela,” he gasps. 
Does he think my name is Anela? 
“Audrey. My name is Audrey,” I repeat.
I wonder if that’s his girlfriend’s name. Maybe he wants me to call her for him. It must be the blonde girl. Sucks. He’s taken. 
The doctor’s deep voice bellows as he fires into the small exam room. “Mr. Slater, my name is Dr. Simmons. How are you feeling?”