Image

Blog Tour, Excerpt and Giveaway! Long Change by V.L. Locey

RC

 

Long Change

by

V.L. Locey

Release Date: June 26, 2015

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave

Cover Artist: Allyse Karam

Pages or Words: 70 pages

Categories: Contemporary, M/M Romance, Sports

 

Blurb:

Collegiate superstar goalie Boone Crockett seems to have the world at his feet. He’s rich, handsome, attends an elite college and is a hot prospect for the pros. Pity all that is a front for a deeply closeted and troubled young man.

All Boone’s life plans are shattered when flamboyant ex-figure skater Preston Gordon, an orange-haired twink, shows up to audition for the team’s mascot position wearing sequins, scarves and toe picks. His moves on the ice send Boone into his own pirouette of frustrated and reluctant desire.

As senior year progresses Boone slides deeper and deeper into a dangerous depression, Preston’s sensual strength the only thing he has to hold on to. If Boone can’t keep from plunging through the thin ice he’s skating on, it could take a twink to make the big save.

Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!

A Romantica® gay erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

 

 

Excerpt:

We stood side by side at the sliding door that looked out over a snow-covered campus. It was beautiful, untouched and pure. I was rather glad now that I hadn’t done the head in the stove thing. We talked between swallows, spoons hitting bowls the only noise aside from the heater coming on from time to time. I liked watching the way Preston’s hair fluttered around his face when hot air blew down from the vent directly above us. He handed me his empty bowl, then unlocked and opened the slider.

“Dude, heater’s on,” I pointed out. He crouched down. I inhaled. The air was brittle like a dead leaf and cold with a light scent of snow on pine. It was an odd sensation, the cold blowing in to blend with the warm cascading down from above. It wasn’t unpleasant at all. The patio was blanketed in four to five wet inches. Preston stood up. His head turned slowly. I looked over at him, a sated smile trying to curl the corners of my mouth. He was patting a perfectly formed snowball.

“Don’t even think about it you mother—”

Snow filled my mouth, nose and eyes. Preston shrieked. I sputtered, shaking snow out of my eyes, then dashed after him. He was fast and proved hard to get a hand on. After a few laps around the furniture in my living room, the dipshit ran out into the hall. I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. I had ice particles dangling from my eyelashes. Vengeance would be mine. We thundered down the steps, his high-pitched squeals of laughter and my warning growls seeming extra loud in the ghost town of a dorm building. The side exit flew open. I barreled out on his heels. The snow was freezing on my bare soles. Preston hissed a nasty curse when his naked tootsies hit the white stuff. He slowed just enough. I tackled him from behind. He went face first into the fresh fluff, all the air leaving his lungs with a loud “Oof!” when I landed on his back.

I clawed up a nice handful of snow as he frantically tried to free himself. I had him pinned, one arm picking up wet powder, the other holding his face into the drift. Wicked laughter boiled out of me when I shoved that snowball down his back. His scream was piercing. He kicked like a wild man, his arms flailing to the sides. I flopped down on him to ensure the snow was plastered to his back.

“Get off! Oh, fuck me, that is so cold! You asshole!” he shouted.

I stayed where I was, splayed over his back, my hand down the back of his shirt, chuckling steadily. I rolled off a moment later still bubbling with laughter. The sky overhead was filled with snow clouds. You know those huge white ones that blow over, drop some flakes, then continue on to let the sun shine down on the freshly carpeted world? Eyes closed, chest heaving, heart lighter than it had been in months, I spread my arms and legs out, inhaled the unique scents of winter and Preston and enjoyed the tickle of new snowflakes touching my cheeks.

“I hate you.”

I rolled my head in his direction and opened my eyes. “Really?”

His mouth rolled into a perfect pout. He was such a pretty thing, even with snow-frosted bangs.

“No,” he huffed as he dashed at the melting snow on his chin. “I should, though. That was heartless!”

“I’ll warm you back up if you want.” The offer slid out of me before I could stop it. A snowflake landed on the tip of Preston’s pixie-like nose. I so wanted to reach out, touch the perfect flake, dry his nose then pull him down for long, wet kiss. Instead I got to my bare feet, standing now in the shadow of the moisture-laden cloud overhead. “I didn’t mean to say that out here.”

“You can, you know,” he said, extending his hand to me. I looked around the quad, the creeping stink of worry now mucking up what had been a perfect moment. “You can say you want to warm me up, or that I have a cute ass, or anything else you want to say. Go ahead. Say it again.”

I shook my head as I hauled him to his feet. Damn, my feet were cold. I turned from him then walked inside, my head low, my mind filling up with concern over my stupid behavior. What the hell had I been thinking, chasing him outside then rolling around in the snow with him as if we were straight lovers.

 LongChange_MSR

 

Sales Links:  

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Long-Change-V-L-Locey-ebook/dp/B00ZSLKOHU/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1434557998&sr=8-2&keywords=v.l.+locey

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/long-change-1

Ellora`s Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/long-change.html

 

About the author:

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, two dogs, two cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and three 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.

Where to find the author:

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452

Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey

Pinterest-http://www.pinterest.com/vllocey/

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey

My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/

tsú – https://www.tsu.co/vllocey

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25740507-long-change

 


Tour Dates & Stops: June 26, 2015

Badge-2Parker Williams, Kimi-Chan, Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words, Bike Book Reviews, Full Moon Dreaming, Hearts on Fire, Havan Fellows, Bayou Book Junkie, SiK Reviews, Because Two Men Are Better Than One, Mikky’s World of Books, Happily Ever Chapter, Up All Night, Read All Day, Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews, Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents, MM Good Book Reviews, Rainbow Gold Reviews, Velvet Panic, Divine Magazine

 

 

 

 

rafflecopter pic

 

 

Rafflecopter Prize: E-copy of ‘Long Change’ by V.L. Locey

 

Advertisements
Image

Blog Tour, Excerpt and Giveaway! Devil’s Food at Dusk by M.J. O’Shea and Anna Martin

BT Banner

AboutTheBook

DevilsFoodAtDuskFS

Title: Devil’s Food At Dusk

Authors: M.J. O’Shea and Anna Martin

Publisher: Dreamspinner Press

Cover Artist: L.C. Chase

Length: 200 Pages

Release Date: June 22, 2015

Blurb: Joe Fitzgerald hates New Orleans, but he’s stuck there until he convinces one stubborn local family to sell Lumière, the crumbling French Quarter restaurant they’ve owned for generations. The place is a wreck, and it’s hemorrhaging money. Joe figures he’s their best chance for survival.

Remy Babineaux despises Pineapple Joe’s and everything the chain stands for. He refuses to let Lumière become some tacky corporate tourist trap. Theme drinks and plastic beads in his restaurant? Yeah, right. Over his dead, rotting corpse. The last thing Remy wants is a meeting with the restaurant chain’s representative, but his father agreed to at least listen to the proposal. There’s nothing Remy can do about it.

Remy figures an anonymous hookup is exactly what he needs to decompress. When he ends up across the table from his fling the next morning, real sparks fly. Joe refuses to give up his prime location; Remy refuses to give up his legacy. It’s war, and they’re both determined to win at any cost. Neither of them counted on falling in love.

CommonExcerpt

Dawn always seemed to come a little later in the French Quarter, molasses-sweet and slow, still soft but with hints of the sticky heat to come. It spread, languorous, over the weathered painted walls and wrought-iron railings, crooked cobbly streets, and leaded glass windows that had seen hundreds of years of people passing by. Morning was quiet. Peaceful. Mellow.

Remy Babineaux had lived in the city all his life, in the same house on the same street covered by the same winding, purple-flowered bougainvillea vines and creeping ivy, but still, sometimes, in the pink blush of an unhurried morning, he was struck with just how much he loved it. How much he never wanted to live anywhere else.

He pulled his tired body out of bed in the barely there brush of light and stretched. He hadn’t slept much the night before—five hours at most—and he felt every one of his very busy, thirty years in his creaky muscles and sore back. It had been easier to get up with the morning sun when he was nineteen. To a point. Truthfully, Remy hadn’t ever been a morning person. He’d always preferred sleeping in to experiencing the unusual stillness that came in the Babineaux household hours before brothers and sisters, mother and father, and one rather eccentric grandmother started shouting and laughing and singing—and usually all at once. But he had to admit the morning was beautiful. And even if it wasn’t, he had fish to buy.

Next time I’m making Andre go so I can sleep in.

Remy knew that wasn’t true. He trusted his little brother with his life, but with the fish selection? Never. Nobody but him had had the coveted job of fish selection since he was a teenager. He pulled on a threadbare white henley and a pair of khakis that he didn’t mind getting fish juice on. Then Remy tugged his wavy hair into a thick, high bun, slipped into a pair of shoes, and was out the door. Time to greet the day with rack after rack of amazing, delicious, smelly fish.

Thursdays were usually the best day at the fish market. It was one of those things that had no logical explanation but a long history of somehow working out that way. The market was open three days a week, and he usually liked to make it to two of them, but Thursdays were for some unknown reason when the magic seemed to happen. He liked to get there early for the pick of the catfish, local trout, and sweet, tender gulf shrimp. Wandering through the fragrant stalls, which should be unpleasant but somehow smelled of home and happiness, was something of a Zen experience for him. One of the highlights of his week.

The market was crowded and loud, even in the bare light of early morning. Chefs and restaurant owners haggled with fishermen who’d become their friends over the years, laughed at well-worn jokes, argued the same arguments like a dance that had been practiced over time and perfected. The fish market was a tradition, and his city was nothing if not steeped in traditions.

Remy spent a few minutes soaking it all in, checking out what was new and interesting and delicious before he got down to business. It was important, he thought, to experience things, and not just go through his day completing tasks. His food was better if his feelings for the moment seeped into the dish. Made life better too if you asked him. His little sister, Grace, gave him shit for his “stop to smell the roses” way of looking at things. She was only fourteen, in a race to grow up and become something. Someday she’d understand that the becoming part was just as important as the getting there.

He stopped at a stand and stared down at piles of glossy pearly gray shrimp, barely touched with hints of blush pink. He’d steam them perhaps, on a base of pasta with clams and roasted vegetables, a little garlic, some cumin, cayenne, local butter, and a ton of French thyme. Remy could nearly taste the sauce exploding in his mouth—butter broth and seasonings and sweet, firm shrimp. Yes.

“Twenty pounds, Remy?”

“Hmm? Oh yes. Sure thing, Renee.” His favorite shrimp dealer knew him well. He could easily go through that much on a weeknight. Four times that on a busy weekend. Remy signed off on the purchase order. The shrimp would be delivered to his cafe, Lumiere, in a few hours with the rest of his purchases, just in time for him to start cooking.

Remy worked his way through the crawfish and catfish, the mussels and clams, smelling and sampling, weighing and ordering. It was his ritual. He never rushed it.

When Remy was nearly ready to call it a morning and head back home, his phone buzzed with a text from Andre, his little brother and one very pushy sous chef.

Don’t forget my halibut.

Remy made a face. The halibut at the fish market was good, but it was shipped all the way from the north Pacific on ice. He’d far rather use local catches to make his spin on traditional dishes, but sometimes Andre got his way. The halibut and chips was one of those times. Andre had tried it, fallen in love, and decided it should be a regular menu item at Lumiere, after a lot of protesting from Remy. It had become popular with the customers, much to Remy’s annoyance. He was even more annoyed by the fact that he liked it himself—especially with Andre’s signature tangy tartar sauce. Most of the time he pretended he didn’t, but Andre knew better and liked to flip him all sorts of shit for it.

I’m getting your damn halibut. Go back to bed.

All he got in return was a winky face and a string of fish emojis. Remy chuckled. Child.

 

Guest Post by MJ O’Shea:

Hi there! This is MJ O’Shea. Thanks for having me stop by 🙂

I’m here to talk a little bit about the three books Anna Martin and I wrote about bakers and chefs. Yeah, food is one of our favorite topics… from the fun discussions we’ve had with readers, I think that’s true for a lot of people.

They’re not a series, all of them are completely unrelated stories, but both of us love to create things in the kitchen — Anna’s the baker, I’m more of a cook — so we wanted to put that love into some books:)

The first is Macarons at Midnight. It takes place in New York City and features a British Transplant named Tristan and the black sheep of a wealthy family, Henry, who’d rather run a bakery in the village than live off his trust fund.

The next, Souffles at Sunrise, takes place in Los Angeles on a baking competition show called Burned. Kai, who has come from Hawaii, is driven and a perfectionist and knows he can win. Chase is a laid back farm kid turned artisanal ice cream maker who is thrilled to have made the competition at all.

Our final and newest book, Devil’s Food at Dusk, takes place in the heart of New Orleans’ French Quarter. Remy has lived there his whole life and runs his family’s cafe Lumiere. He wants his traditions to stay the same and his cafe to stay in the family. Joe works as a property developer for a chain of theme restaurants. He’d like nothing more than to sweep in and buy the property from Remy’s family. In fact, he doesn’t plan to give up until he’s successful.

There are bios and contact info below if you’d like to chat with Anna and I about cooking, baking, or anything else really!

xoxo

MJ

BuyLinks

DREAMSPINNER PRESS (eBook)

DREAMSPINNER PRESS (Paperback)

AMAZON US

AMAZON UK

ALL ROMANCE eBOOKS

BARNES & NOBLES

KOBO

GOOGLE PLAY

AboutTheAuthor

Author PicI’m Mj O’Shea 🙂 I grew up, and still live, in sunny Washington state and while I love to visit other places, I can’t imagine calling anywhere else home.

I spent my childhood writing stories. Sometime in my early teens, the stories turned to romance. Most of those were about me, my friends, and our favorite movie and pop stars. Hopefully, I’ve come a long way since then.

When I’m not writing, I love to play the piano, dance, cook, paint pictures, and of course read! I like sparkly girly girl things, own at least twenty different colored headbands, and I have two little dogs who sit with me when I write. Sometimes they comes up with ideas for me too…when they’re not busy napping.

Website: http://mjoshea.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mj.oshea.5

Twitter: https://twitter.com/mjosheaseattle

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3512511.M_J_O_Shea

Instagram: http://instagram.com/mjosheaseattle

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/mjoshea5

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/M.J.-OShea/e/B003XERT7M/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1427433101&sr=8-2-ent

Newsletter —

Sign up for MJ O’Shea’s newsletter for updates, exclusive contests, excerpts and more…

***

AnnaMartin_APicAnna Martin is from a picturesque seaside village in the south west of England. After spending most of her childhood making up stories, she studied English Literature at university before attempting to turn her hand as a professional writer.

Apart from being physically dependent on her laptop, she is enthusiastic about writing and producing local grassroots theatre (especially at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, where she can be found every summer), travelling, learning to play the ukulele, and Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Fudge Chunk.

Although her most recent work is in the LGBT romance genre, in the past Anna has worked on a variety of different projects including short stories, drabbles, flash fiction, fan fiction, plays for both children and adults, and poetry. She has written novels in the Teen or Young Adult genre, Romance and Fantasy novels.

Anna is, by her own admission, almost unhealthily obsessed with books. The library she has amassed is both large and diverse; “My favourite books,” she says, “are ‘The Moonstone’ by Wilkie Collins, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ by Harper Lee and ‘Oryx and Crake’ by Margaret Atwood.” She also owns multiple copies of Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park books and re-reads the Harry Potter novels with almost startling regularity.

Website: http://www.annamartin-fiction.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/annamartinfiction

Twitter: https://twitter.com/missannamartin

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5251288.Anna_Martin

Instagram: https://instagram.com/missannamartin/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/annamartinficti/

RafflecopterGiveaway

Winner’s Prize: $20 Amazon Gift Card.

2 Runners up win: An e-copy from either MJ O’Shea’s or Anna Martin’s Backlist.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

TourSchedule

June 22:

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

My Fiction Nook

June 23:

Drops of Ink

June 24:

Love Bytes Reviews

June 25:

Wicked Faeries Tales & Reviews

Molly Lolly: Reader, Reviewer, Lover of Words

June 26:

Because Two Men Are Better Than One

June 29:

Diverse Reader

Sid Love Writes

June 30:

Gay.Guy.Reading And Friends

Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

July 1:

Man2ManTastic

JP Barnaby

July 2:

Bayou Book Junkie

July 3:

Nessa’s Book Reviews

Elisa – My reviews and Ramblings

July 6:

BFD Book Blog

Evelyn Shepherd

July 7:

MM Good Book Reviews

July 8:

Multitasking Mommas Book Reviews

Books N Pearls

July 9:

Rainbow Gold Reviews

Foxylutely Books

July 10:

A Celebration of Books

Prism Book Alliance

Image

BLOG TOUR: Make Me Soar by KC Wells

MakeMeSoarFS

Make Me Soar

Collars & Cuffs #6

by  KC Wells

Blurb

Anyone who frequents Collars & Cuffs knows Dorian Forrester is built for pain, including Dorian himself. But everyone has it wrong. For six years, Dorian’s chased a feeling that remains tantalizingly out of his reach. Unteachable, Dorian can take anything and everything a Dom can throw at him. Still, it’s not enough. Dorian needs… something more. Something he won’t find at Collars & Cuffs.

Dorian’s search takes him out of the safe environment he’s known for years, out of his depth, and into a realm of deep, dark trouble.

Alan Marchant has been watching Dorian with interest for a while and knows there’s more to Dorian than his label of “pain slut” suggests. When Dorian disappears, Alan and his friend Leo set out to find him. But the disoriented young man discovered cowering in a hotel room is not the Dorian they know and love. That Dorian is shattered. It’s up to Alan to pick up the pieces and show Dorian there are better ways to fly.

They may be off on a new journey together, but their destination will rock them both to the core.

Exclusive Excerpt

Alan had given the matter some serious thought as he’d lain there in the early morning light, Dorian’s even breaths the only sound in the quiet hotel room. It hadn’t taken him long to reach a conclusion. Once they got back to Manchester, Alan had a job to do.

He was going to help Dorian put his life back together.

But there was a way to go before he could accomplish that. Alan had seen enough in his life to recognize the signs. Experience had taught him that there were five stages to go through when dealing with loss or grief. And Dorian was dealing with loss. Whatever had happened to him at that party had robbed him of something vital. The spark that was pure Dorian was missing, and Alan wanted it back.

Dorian was at stage one, that of denial. Okay, so speaking clearly brought him pain, but even without that physical hindrance, Alan knew instinctively that Dorian did not want to talk or even think about what had taken place. And he knew what came next—isolation. Not that he intended to let Dorian get far with that.

I’ll be damned if I’ll let you crawl into a corner and shut me out, boy. The fact that he’d cuddled up to Alan’s back during the night had filled him with hope. Since they’d got up, however, Dorian had kept himself at a distance, shying away from any attempt to get physically close to him. That was nothing new. At the club, Dorian wasn’t into displays of affection. Alan had racked his brains, trying to remember if he’d ever seen Dorian in anyone’s embrace. It was something of a shock to realize he’d never seen anyone hold the lad. Then he thought about Dorian’s manner with people, the way he kept them at arm’s length.

Why don’t you let people in, Dorian?

There was obviously a lot more to the submissive than met the eye, and Alan felt like an archaeologist who’d surveyed a promising outcrop and realized there was definitely something of interest below the surface. And Alan had every intention of painstakingly removing the earth, layer by layer, until he’d revealed what lay hidden.

I want to see the real Dorian. Because he was convinced no one had even glimpsed the treasure that lay buried beneath that facade.

Banner300x250

Buy Links

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=6539

add-to-goodreads-button

Giveaway

Rafflecopter Prize: All six books of the Collars & Cuffs series, or three books from KC’s backlist

Click here or on the image to enter the Rafflecopter.

rafflecopter pic

About the Author

Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C. WELLS always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way. K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, when the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings—writing about men in love was even hotter….

K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career. The laptop still has no idea of what hit it… it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.

And as for those men in love that she writes about? The list of stories just waiting to be written is getting longer… and longer….

K.C. loves to hear from readers.

E-mail: k.c.wells@btinternet.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KCWellsWorld

Twitter: @K_C_Wells

Website: http://www.kcwellsworld.com

Tour Dates & Stops

22-Jun

My Fiction Nook

Rainbow Gold Reviews

Amanda C. Stone

23-Jun

Decadent Delights

Vampires, Werewolves, and Fairies, Oh My

Kimi-Chan

24-Jun

Christy Loves 2 Read

Havan Fellows

25-Jun

Parker Williams

26-Jun

Love Bytes

Because Two Men Are Better Than One

Cathy Brockman Romances

29-Jun

Dawn’s Reading Nook

Bike Book Reviews

30-Jun

MM Good Book Reviews

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

1-Jul

3 Chicks After Dark

Elisa – My Reviews and Ramblings

Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words

2-Jul

Multitasking Mommas

Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

Just Love Romance

Bayou Book Junkie

3-Jul

BFD Book Blog

Prism Book Alliance

Molly Lolly

Inked Rainbow Reads

WillPride