Friday, July 15, 2016

Guest Star, V.L. Locey presents Top 5 Hockey Movies

You've all met my friend V.L. Locey before; she writes some of my favorite romances... so here she is to tell you all about her new release.

Top 5 Hockey Movies

There is nothing like sitting down in the offseason to enjoy a good hockey flick! Of course, enjoying a hockey movie during season is quite enjoyable as well. Just don't forget to plan your movie time to coincide with the game that night! Here are five of my favorite hockey movies in no particular order. Do they match yours? If so or if not tell me your favorite hockey movies in the comments section!

1 - Slap Shot - This movie is a classic, and one of the funniest sports flicks I have ever seen. In addition to the humor we get the joy of watching Paul Newman *sigh* and Michael Ontkean *sighs again* playing on the same team.

2 - Goon - Goon was easily as funny as Slap Shot but it had a nice little romance included. For me, that romance made the film less gritty than Slap Shot, but just as endearing.

3 - Mystery, Alaska - This is a wonderful little comedy about the residents of Mystery, Alaska, and how the team from Mystery that plays special "Saturday Night" games finds itself playing a televised game against the New York Rangers.

4 - Miracle - What a great movie! Based on the amazing 1980 USA Olympic teams win over the seemingly unbeatable Russian team, this film will make anyone stand up and cheer, be they a hockey fan or not.

5 - The Mighty Ducks - One of the most endearing and entertaining movies that you and your family will ever watch. The Ducks is a feel good film for kids and adults that spawned a couple of sequels as well as an animated series.

Buy Links:

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Kobo -


Venom defensive coach Dot "The Shadow" West has made a nice life for herself. She's found a new position on an up-and-coming women's professional hockey team, her daughter is thriving, she gets along well with her fellow coaches and her players admire and respect her. She's proud to have accomplished so much by herself. Everything is running smoothly in her life with no help from anyone, thank you very much.

Sadly, there's one annoying glitch in Dot's new life, and it's in the form of good-looking Theo Grier, former Wildcat goalie and co-host of a controversial sports talk radio show based in Philadelphia, home of the Venom. When Dot loses her cool and calls in to spar with Theo on the air her structured and solitary existence takes a sudden unexpected turn. Before she can hip check the smug fool out of her life she somehow ends up working with him on a new talk radio sports program.

Can she defend her heart against the unwanted feelings Theo is stirring up? Or will she continue to guard herself, and her past decisions, against the offensive moves being made by the ex-goalie? The only man to ignite her passions - and ire - in years?


"Security lets you down here?" I asked.

"I'm an old 'Cat. They love me down here," he informed me. I walked past him and began to pull on a mitten. "I thought maybe we could grab a cup of coffee and discuss the show next Monday." That made me pause for a scant moment but just for a moment. I kept walking and dressing. Theo caught up to me with ease. His legs were as long as a thoroughbred's. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes, I heard you. I then chose to ignore you." I wrapped a red and black scarf around my neck, nodded at Eddie the security guard stationed by the staff/players entrance, and then stepped out into a freezing cold Philadelphia night.

"You plan on treating me this coldly forever?" Theo asked as I slid past him. If he thought holding the door open for me would chill me out, he was sorely mistaken.

"Probably," I said with my eyes locked on my blue Honda Pilot. "My grandmother always said that the best way to deal with a wart was to freeze it."

"Ouch," Theo chuckled while keeping up with my pace easily. Each breath out clouded in front of my face. "I hope I'm just a finger wart and not an anal wart."

"Oh, you're an anal wart. One of the biggest ones that I have ever had the misfortune to encounter," I parried as my Honda got closer and closer. Theo jumped ahead of me to bar my path. I gave him a lethal glare. He smiled and held out his hand. I eyed it warily as if it were an asp ready to strike.

"Coach West, I think we need to start over," Theo said as his hand hung in the cold air. I raised my eyes from his big hand to his face. Then I gave him a strong "Please spare me" look. The man didn't have the sense to stop trying to be sexy. A gust right off an iceberg howled around the Houseman, lifting Theo's white scarf high into the air behind him. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Coach West. I'm Theo Grier, ex-goalie and world's largest walking anal wart."

I snorted and glanced up at the LED parking lot light wobbling overhead.

"Could that have been a smile I saw on 'The Shadow's' face?" Theo asked. I rolled my eyes then shook my head.

"It was a tiny sneeze."

"Right, a sneeze," he said with just a hint of skepticism. "Maybe you should shake my hand so you can get out of this nasty cold weather. A hot cup of coffee at the Black Boar Bar & Grill might be just what you need to help thaw out, Coach West."

"For your information, Mr. Grier, I do not need to thaw out. I'm quite comfortable, toasty warm, hot even," I replied keeping my arms crossed over my chest.

"Yes, that you are," Theo said in a vibrating voice that had dropped just a smidgeon. There was something about his voice, the way he held himself, and that damned large hand of his still waiting for mine that made me feel a trifle too warm inside my coat.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Grier." I pushed around him.

"How about honesty then," he said and then planted his massive self in front of me once again.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," I sighed.

"When I see something I want, I go after it."

"And you want me?" I asked.

"Yeah, I want you to shake my hand and join me for coffee," he countered smoothly. I studied his face then with a huff extended my hand, all toasty warm in my mitten, to him. His fingers curled around mine, making my hand glow like a red coal in a fire pit. We shook slowly, one could have said sensuously, but handshakes with mittens blocking the skin-to-skin can't be sensual, can they?


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, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two 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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Gone Writing Publishing Backlist Books and Upcoming Releases

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)
Language of Love (Book Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Final Shifts (Book Six of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Clean Sweep (Book One of the Venom Series)
Twirly Girl (Book Two of the Venom Series)
Tape to Tape (Book Three of the Venom Series)

Coming Nov. 16…Roster Addition (a To Love a Wildcat hockey romance novella)

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
Goaltender`s Penalty
All I Want for Christmas - A Toms & Tabbies Tale
Early to Rise - A Toms & Tabbies Tale
Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity Sip Anthology)
Night of the Jackal
An Erie Halloween
An Erie Operetta
An Erie Garden Party
Back to the Garden (Also part of the Mythologically Torqued Anthology)

Ellora`s Cave Backlist and Upcoming Releases

Bound, Boarded and Bagged
Two Man Advantage
Game Misconduct
Full Strength
Shutdown Pair
Long Change

Independent Releases

Coming October 5, 2016…On Broadway (part of the Changing on the Fly M/M hockey romance charity novella)
Coming Dec. 20, 2016…Holly & Hockey Boots (a gay erotic holiday hockey romance)

Saturday, June 25, 2016

Tiny Little Things

When I was a girl, I wanted a dollhouse more than anything (well, maybe not more than I wanted to Millennium Falcon action figure ship from Kenner.)

Not because I liked playing with dolls, although I did my fair share of that, too (including one time burning all the hair off one of my barbies because I tried to use a light fixture as a hair dryer. Don't ask. I was handy with a screwdriver, but not always very foresighted. PS - burning plastic smells terrible. PSS - my parents didn't have a smoke detector and I don't think my mother ever knew that I did that...)

But no, because I was stupidly in love with tiny things.

I'm still obsessed with Tiny Things.

See my on-again, off-again, currently off-again photo project (which I would be More On if I hadn't spent the last 10 months now dealing with chronic illness... it's getting better, I promise, but still...) Tiny T-Rex ...

Part of a card game that I never played
I love miniatures and china figurines. I like snow globes and music boxes.

When I was in high school, I spent a while being crafty -- I wish cameras had been as ubiquitous as they are now, because I don't have any photos of these things -- I built a castle from cardboard and wooden skewers. Working drawbridge and portcullis... if I removed the keep from inside the walls, my cat could sit inside it. (Pretty sure my mother actually does have a picture of Puff inside the castle, but I don't know where it is...)

I also made my own dollhouse, after being denied one for so long. I cross-section cut shoe boxes so they were open to the light, used scrap material as wallpaper and cut and glued together chair-rails and floorboards. I made beds from tall grill matches and paint. I even melted down a candle to dip tiny candles (using floss for wicks) Took me the better part of a year to make out four rooms, two bedrooms, a dining room, and a living room (with built in bookshelves and tiny little books)

this llama came in a matchbox as a set

I also have a stupidly large collection of tiny china figurines that are up on the walls in my office in old printer's trays...

I mostly stopped buying the china figurines in college; for years I didn't have anywhere to display my shelves safely. They've only recently come out of storage... 

But even without collecting china, I've been known to buy other tiny things, just because they're tiny... this is an eraser that I bought on impulse a few years ago. I never do anything with it, it just lives on my desk and sometimes I look at it... little tiny things make me stupidly happy.

it's like a dick, only smaller

And because I do what I do, one of my friends sent me this tiny bag of dicks... 

These days, though, I collect Pop Figures... tons and tons of Pop Figures. If you ever want to get me a present... I don't even care, most of the time, what they're from because they are Sooooo Cute....

Like this lovely one of Harley Quinzel...

Friday, June 10, 2016

Yelling "Shut the Fuck Up" And Other Events

notes for the beginning

Trigger Warnings: discussions of PTSD obliquely, discussions of privilege, links to graphic articles about rape and rape culture, general swearing and rambling off subject. feminism 101

TL:DR People can be good people and still be assholes. My page, my rules. Do not fuck with my friends. Don’t be a dick. Why is this so hard?

First Note: I’ve spoken with 2 of the 3 people involved in yesterday’s kerflumph… two of them are okay with my discussing what happened yesterday. The other one defriended and blocked me, so he doesn’t get a chance to protest. Sorry, not sorry. I’m not going to name names and I want to say that I still like both of these people very much, even though I disagree with one of them on a number of topics, we’ve managed to work out our differences like adults, and I appreciate that to no end. I would have even been willing to forgive and work with Guy2, if he’d been willing to even look at what he did and why it was wrong.

Second note: I’m using Ms. Clinton and Mr. Sanders because I believe it is polite. We never called President Obama “Barak” during his campaign and I don’t like that we’re calling them Hillary and Bernie. It seems weird. I am also calling Bernie Bros just that, because it’s the name for them as a group. Sometimes Berners, too. But since they’re acting like Bros, I’m calling them Bros.

Third Note: None of this has anything to do with my writing career, but I spent a lot of time on it, and it's not going to fit in a Facebook post.

Final Note: not all men. Not all women. Not all feminists. Not all gamers. Not all. not all. not all. and YOU FUCKING KNOW THAT so don’t you even fucking say it. Just like you know when you say “I have a broken leg” and I say “I’m sorry,” that I am not taking blame for your goddamn injury, you pedantic headache causing nitwit. You’re just being an ass and it’s time for you to stop.

If the shoe fits, however, lace that fucker up and go for a walk.

I’m going to start with the obvious; I have opinions.

Here are some of them:

** I’m happy that Ms. Clinton is the presumptive nominee. Bernie Bros pushed me further and further away from Mr. Sanders, and then there was the doxing of super delegates. Once Sanders supporters started acting like GamerGaters, I was done. It was a movement I no longer wanted to be a part of. GamerGaters often say they disagree with the tactics of doxing and threatening, but they stay in the movement. That’s not me. I’m judged by the company I keep, and that’s company I don’t want. I stepped away from being a supporter to being a “I’ll vote for him if he gets the nod.” Then I moved all the way over to being in Ms. Clinton’s camp. Don’t get me wrong, as a person, I do not LIKE Hillary Clinton. And it’s not my business, really, if she chose to stay with a cheating, lying spouse. But that’s her personal concern. The rest of it, I like. She’s a fucking BRICK WALL of dealing with harassment after harassment. She took the Bengazi hearings like a motherfucking BOSS and I have all the respect in the world for that. Does she have her faults? Of course she does, she’s a human being, just like the rest of us. And, as someone who’s changed her mind about things, who’s checked her fucking privilege, and who’s grown over the years, I have to say that evolution as a person is a thing. If we don’t allow Ms. Clinton to change her mind, why would someone else ever do it? And isn’t the whole point to BRING PEOPLE OVER TO OUR SIDE? To convince people to see that LGBTQ people are people. That black people are people? That disabled / persons with disabilities are people. 

(*sidenote: I personally prefer “people with disabilities,” but as there’s been a wonderful thought-provoking piece… this is not that article, but it’s another one talking about how various people to whom the labels have been applied feel… If I find the other article, I’ll let you know. But the basic premise is the same; the person being labeled gets to decide what the label is.) 

(added: oh, look, here it is. My friend Barbara found it for me, so thanks to her. )

** Bon Jovi is a terrible band.

** James Bond is a sexist asshole who leaves a slime trail wherever he goes like a slug.

** White people. Men. The Financially-well-off. The educated. The straight. The cis-gender. ALL OF US NEED TO CHECK OUR FUCKING PRIVLEDGE. Yes, even you. This is one area where I’ll say we all have work to do. ALL OF US. Me. You. My husband. My parents. EVERYONE. No one is exempt. We live in a terrible, hate-filled culture that thrives on the idea of meritocracy without actually being one. (Yes, even me, see this blog entry from a few years ago I was stupid and awful and the more I look at it, the more awful I realize that I was.)

** Twilight is a fun, silly book that works people up for no good reason.

** Basketball stars are not role-models. Book characters are not role-models. Nobody is a role-model. The whole idea of role-models is ridiculous. But that’s another essay entirely and I don’t have time to do it justice today.

** I don’t like arguing. It’s not fun. I don’t have a memorized list of back-up data for all my opinions. I don’t like being angry. I don’t like being outraged. I don’t get off on telling people how wrong they are. I don’t like to play intellectual games with the background radiation of my life. The devil has enough lawyers, thank you.

-My House, My Rules-

Yesterday, I posted two very controversial articles…

This one I posted because I’m seeing a lot of Bernie or Bust in my feed. Where people will rather have Trump as president… where people insist on acting like the 2 – party system isn’t firmly entrenched in American Politics. Should it be that way? Probably not. But here’s the thing; I don’t live in a world where rainbows are farted out of unicorn butts. I live in the real fucking world, where there will be real fucking consequences if Trump takes the Presidency.

( ) Not even Trump took Trump seriously from the get-go.

“If you are a Bernie Sanders supporter who will not vote for Hillary Clinton--You are literally saying that you put your personal privilege and sanctimonious bullshit above my personal physical safety. You are literally saying you'd rather protest vote than see to it that my life, my safety, and my civil rights have a chance to be heard and protected. You don't have to like her. I'm not asking for that but the possibility of the rest of my life existing under a Trump controlled Supreme Court terrifies me and it should terrify you.” – Cara R.

On Safe Spaces and the Use of Facebook

Almost immediately after posting that article, I had two friends arguing over it. I cannot, honestly, remember what the particular bit was, except that Guy1 was going through Yet Another List of Why Ms. Clinton Is Terrible and Why the System is Broken. I agree that the system is broken. But it wasn’t specifically broken to spite Mr. Sanders, or because the super delegates think it’s Ms. Clinton’s “turn” like politics is a fucking slide at the playground and Mr. Sanders is breaking the line. 

Girl1, who is upset because she’s not being allowed to be happy about Ms. Clinton without dealing with multiple feelz from slighted Bernie Bros, sends me an anxious message, telling me she’s upset and she doesn’t want to continue to engage and she’s getting herself spun up. She does that; whenever she posts to a thread of mine and the thread turns hostile, she’ll back away, but she wants me to know that I’m not the person upsetting her and that she’s moving away for her own emotional safety. I approve.

I glance at the stuff Guy1 has posted. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. (Seriously, I promise. You can’t tell me anything new about the email scandal, or the real estate scandal, or bengazi, or whatever the hell the bee is in your bonnet that I can’t find elsewhere. I promise you, darling, special snowflake, that information is out there, it’s being shoved down my throat, and I have read it.) It’s nothing that’s adding to the discussion of being happy about our candidate and it’s frankly backing up the claims that Bernie Bros need to not see Clinton Supporters Celebrating Because It’s Making Them Sad. And honestly, I don’t want to read it right now. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting 24 hours of celebration before we have to get down to the grueling work of “reaching out” to Mr. Sander’s supporters; work that is going to be ugly and time-consuming, and probably in the end, worthless. (My husband has voiced the opinion a few times that the people claiming Bernie or Bust were probably not going to vote anyway, and therefore their opinion and their vote aren’t worth trying to salvage.)
So, both because I love my friend and I don’t want her to be upset, and because I don’t want to be upset, and because the entire fucking purpose of this thread is to say “Today, I will be happy. Tomorrow I will get down in the mud with you again and attempt to be reasonable and rational, but today, I want to be happy. So stop fucking raining on my parade” I deleted all dissenting opinions.

I believe that Facebook is my front porch; you’re all invited to come up, grab a rocker, have some lemonade. But this is MY front porch and there are discussions I don’t want to have. There are discussions I don’t want to have today and then there are discussions I don’t want to have, ever. And I will delete commentary. I don’t have to justify that to you. If someone put a Vote Trump sign down in my front yard, you can be damn fucking sure I’m going to rip that sucker up and toss it in the trash. I’m not leaving it there because “censorship.” You don’t get to tell me what conversations you get to have in my house, on my property. I have thrown my father out of my house because he wouldn’t stop arguing with me. I have thrown stuff at my brother – who has thrown stuff at me, too, so there – for not being able to shut up. Politics is sometimes a null-discussion in my house because believe it or not, my husband and I are not a hive mind. (on the other hand, he’s never voted in a major election for a candidate that’s won and I have a yen to try to convince him to vote for Trump to carry on that lovely tradition.)

And no, it doesn’t always matter how “polite” you are. I’ve known a goddamn rapist who was polite as a southern lady in public and a gas-lighting, sleep-depriving bastard in private.

So, I delete the thread, run off to do the shopping, and get back in my car to Guy1 complaining about me censoring him. Admittedly, when I delete people’s comments, I usually tell them why, but I had errands to run and didn’t want to engage beforehand. Oh boy, did we engage afterward, though.
Our first big difference of opinion is obviously what Facebook is: To me, it’s sitting on my porch with friends. (not inside the house with friends, mind you. There are some people who have that connection with me, and I’m usually pretty welcoming in real life – how I met Chuck and Colleen comes to mind – but I’d be a fool to allow any random person into my home. Even the front porch isn’t always safe.)

To him, I’m standing on a street corner, yelling, and having my Gestapo shoot people who disagree. (okay, I am exaggerating a BIT. He didn’t say that, specifically. But he did continue to argue with me about what My Facebook Page Is for quite a while. See above note about not liking to argue.)
And then I made the Ultimate Mistake in arguing with a man; I brought feelings into it. I said, specifically “And right now I care more about her mental health than yours. I don't want to argue about politics right now, I just want to be happy.”

He said: “As for your friend, you did what you felt was right. But, in my opinion, sheltering her incorrect of historic events isn't helping her to grow. It's just keeping her sheltered and frankly, ignorant. If she can't debate something civilly, and factually, wtf is she gonna do when someone who actually hates her comes along?”

Me: I’m sheltering her? You’re DAMN FUCKING SKIPPY, I am. She’s upset, near tears with frustration because she’s not being allowed to be HAPPY anywhere – given where she lives, being a Clinton supporter is not winning her any friends – without someone telling her she’s wrong, she’s stupid, Ms. Clinton is a terrible person. Someone who really hates her? What the FUCK do you know about how much hatred she has to deal with?

It took me a while to put my finger on exactly what upset me here, but it boils down to this; Guy1 is saying that it’s okay to upset and hurt my friend now because someone else might hurt and upset her more, later. Emotional pain’s not like physical pain, where if you get hit 100 times in the face, the 101st blow isn’t going to sting as much.

“Unlike with physical pains, if you apply repeated or deliberate mental stress to a brain instead of toughening up, it will hardwire a response to the type of stimulus that caused the stress to the sympathetic nervous system; which will essentially mean that you cause problems for that person the rest of their life. …while exposure therapy can make me better, that requires there to be a highly controlled environment and enough safe guards so that I don't feel panicked. Random bozos hitting the trigger in uncontrolled situations rather than helping reinforce the pathways making things worse.” – Girl1

Guy1 and I talked most of yesterday, on and off… I do like him, I do value his opinions, and in this case, I still think his opinion is… unhelpful for Girl1 and me. You can do that, you know. Have an opinion that doesn’t work for someone else. That’s okay. I don’t make my bed every day. I am never going to make my bed every day. Nothing you ever say or post or do is going to change that because making my bed every day DOES NOT WORK FOR ME. I agreed to be quicker for explanations – or preemptive on my “I’m going to shut this topic down now and this is why”. He agreed that it is my right to take down any comments that I want. No information is being suppressed; any reader on my Facebook page is welcome to share the article on their page and talk about whatever they want over there.

For right now, my Facebook page is a safe place for Clinton Supporters. You don’t want to support her, that’s fine. There’s your Facebook page.

On “Not All Men” and the Stanford Rapist who can swim well

I was just getting over my mad-on about the other thing… One thing, if you don’t know me well… I’m a muddle when put on the spot. I don’t like to argue. I do, however, know how to debate. When I have time to prepare my arguments, cite my sources, do my research, I can go through and debate point for point. (as you see here) I’m very good at research. (I snopes the shit out of everything, too. I hate posting stuff and finding out later that it’s false. Sometimes I still get caught out, but I try… )
And then I posted this article

This article is brutal as fuck. No holds barred, in your face, criticism of rape culture. And here’s the thing about Rape Culture. It’s culture. That means none of us is untouched. Rape culture surrounds us and binds us like some squicky sort of Force… it’s invisible and the most visible thing there is. It’s in everything from media to classroom dress code inequities ( ) It’s in nursery rhymes. Georgie Porgie kissed the girls and made them cry… Did you know that the original version of Sleeping Beauty that there’s quite a bit more than a kiss to wake her up?

( Side Note: this is one of the best Feminist 101 sites I’ve ever come across.)

“Everyone can agree that rape is objectively wrong, but problems crop up when we try to parse exactly what rape is and under what circumstances it occurs. I’m willing to bet that more than a few men read the victim’s letter and had a pang of recognition—not of her experiences, but his. Because most men have done at least some of what Turner did. They’ve gone to parties with the intention of hooking up with someone; they’ve zeroed in on the vulnerable girls, the drunk girls, the girls who seem like they’d be easy to take home; they’ve assumed that silence or a lack of clear refusal is the same as consent. And when these men read the account of what Brock Turner did, even if they recognize it as awful, there’s a louder voice in their heads saying something like this could have been written about me.”
I’m going to say this to be 100% clear; as a college student, I didn’t know shit about boundaries, either. Not guarding mine, not respecting other people’s. Because we’re taught that men always want it, that women always have to be convinced, I’ve done some things of which I am not proud. People were wounded in the fallout.

I would never, ever murder someone.

But I might think about it. I might viciously imagine ramming your car when you cut me off and driving you into oncoming traffic. I might spend a dinner party staring at you over the table and making nice conversation and wondering how it would look if I cut your throat with a steak knife. I would never, ever… but I did grab a baseball bat and trek across campus one time with the full intent of clunking … Christ, I can’t even remember the guy’s name now. He wasn’t in his dorm at the time, and I think that was lucky for both of us… and if I was a conceal carry type, I abso-fucking-lutely would have shot the guy that punched me in the face at the Best Buy some four years ago. Without. A fucking. Doubt. And I’m glad I don’t conceal carry, because I would have had to live with that guilt.

Of course it’s a controversial article; it’s pretty damned hostile and I think it has every right to be, because I’ve seen those men, I know those men. I know the rapists who are charming in person and wake you up every 10 minutes after you’ve worked a 16 hour shift to ask if you’re sure you don’t want to have sex until you eventually lay there and take it because you need some goddamn sleep and you’re crying while he’s hovering over you and when he rolls off, he thanks you for it and says he loves you. And he doesn’t think he’s done a damned thing wrong. And you get to the point where you never say no, because you know that no doesn’t matter and you may as well get it out of the way early rather than fight about it, because that’s what’ll happen and you don’t want to fight anymore, but you don’t want sex and you can’t ever see a time, ever again, that you will.

And if you’ve been following along… you know what comes next.

The very first fucking thing someone says is “Not all men.” (He didn’t say it using those exact words, but he did say “What about all the men who denounce…”) Not someone being obnoxious and thinking that being an annoying twit is somehow ironic and funny, but someone who honestly thinks he has to stand up for the men who don’t rape.

Honey, we’re not talking about those men, and you don’t get a goddamn gold star for being a decent human being.

“My house is on fire.”
“Not all houses catch on fire.”
“Well, that’s fucking delightful. Mind getting out of the way of the fire truck?”

Me: LOTS of men have spoken out... I'm glad the case has gotten such national coverage, because this is one of those really obviously who is wrong cases... this is -literally- the stranger in the alley. and still, he gets nothing. The people who are so worried about false rape accusations can suddenly see that even undeniable rape cases, the rapist gets so little punishment... it's opening a dialogue that needed to happen. 

In Conclusion

I have no conclusions. I spent yesterday wanting to be happy and being burning, furiously angry instead. I got support from some of my friends, and from my husband who spent most of the pre-dinner hour raging about the Brock Turner case because he’s so desperately affronted.  

I think it may be the first time that he’s realized, really gut-down-deep where you have those life changing moments, that rapists don’t go to jail. #notallrapists

I had decent discussions with one of the people who pissed me off (and who I pissed off as well; I’m not discounting his feelings about the thing. Yes, he has feelings. He may call them opinions and facts and rational arguments, but they’re still feelings. He has them, and I injured them, and I acknowledged his right to feel slighted without abandoning my right to act as I see fit. Thank you Steve Miller and Sharon Lee)

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Capturing the Moment World Tour

Hey readers and fans, I'd like to introduce you to my friend Delilah -- pretty sure she's been on this blog before, because she is awesome. I have the honor to be one of the beta readers for this particular novel and I have to tell you, even in rough, it was an amazing story and you are going to LOVE IT.... 

So, tell my audience a little about yourself... 

I'm Delilah. I spent the first 31 years of my life in the chilly Northeast before my partner's work took us to Singapore six years ago. Although I grew up telling and imagining stories, writing them was at best a part-time hobby. I was first introduced to erotica when my ex-boyfriend showed me I was a senior in college with a thesis due, so obviously the best use of my time was to start writing erotica and erotic fan fiction. Thanks to Literotica, I found my first writing community, and physical friends when I made the move to NYC for grad school.

I've heard a lot of about Literotica -- oddly enough, I myself have never explored its archives, but several of the writers I know got their start there, or in the various fanfic universes, like AO3... Any interesting stories from that world you particularly remember? 

Lit is such a great resource for new writers. There's so much support and love for new writers (and yes, there are trolls sometimes, but that's the internet). I haven't been involved in the website in over five years, but I just re-joined under Delilah_Night if anyone wants to connect there. A lot of my friends have moved on.

I wouldn't have had a social life in NYC if it weren't for Literorica. There was a Boston vs NYC thread, and through that I met most of my friends in NYC. We had "lit-togethers" where we'd meet up for dinner and hang out.

If you  mean actual stories, I couldn't find it on lit anymore, but a writer I knew on the site wrote the best crossover fanfic "Harry Potter and the Eagle of Truthiness" which imagines that Steven Colbert (in his Colbert Report persona) was the Defense against the Dark Arts Teacher at Hogwart. HILARIOUS


After grad school, writing became something I had to squeeze in between teaching, getting married, having a highly medical child, and a move to Singapore. Just as Literotica helped me find community in NYC, blogging about expat life helped me create community in Singapore. After the birth of my second daughter, my husband encouraged me to start submitting my work professionally. In the years since I've appeared in a dozen anthologies. Recently, my first solo project, Capturing the Moment, was published. 

Do you remember the first time you got an acceptance letter? (I ask because my 5th year acceptance-iversary just passed and I'm remembering what it was like to read that email for the first time...)

I actually found out that my story had been accepted into Irresistible because I was following Rachel Kramer Bussel on Twitter. She said that she had three stories with Jewish characters, and I thought *hmmmm.* An hour later I got the email. I screamed, grabbed my husband, and may have cried. I was post-partum though, so I cried at the drop of a hat at that point in my life.

Capturing the Moment is my first solo title, and my first professional attempt at something longer than five thousand words. In 2014, I took a solo vacation to Siem Reap, Cambodia to check a significant item off my bucket list--taking a photograph of the 12th century temple, Angkor Wat, at dawn, mirrored in the small lake in front of it. Over the course of four days, I saw a number of ancient temples, visited a silkworm farm, attended an apsara dance performance, and met a number of wonderful people willing to share their stories with me.

Last January, I decided to write a novella. I remembered how it felt to physically be at the water's edge in the dark, at five am, waiting for the sunrise. How heartbreakingly beautiful that sunrise was. How proud I am of the photos I took. I pictured a woman doing the same thing, only to turn around and run into her ex-boyfriend. From there, Capturing the Moment evolved into not only the story of a visit to Siem Reap, but of two ex-lovers reconnecting. The setting is a character as well--the history, art, and locations are very real. Almost every photo that Meg takes is one I have taken. Every place they visit, I've visited/shopped at/eaten at/etc. Darany the tuk tuk driver is a composite of the three drivers and the tour guide I hired. They talked to me about everything from how the school system works to how their families were apart by the bloody reign of the Khmer Rouge, their goals in life (one was working on his English in hopes of becoming a tour guide because they make more money), how they tend the small rice paddy they've cultivated to feed their family, and so much more that did and didn't make its way into the book. They enriched my experience and made my visit so much less superficial than it would have been without them.


You never forget your first love…

Meg and RJ were passionately in love. But that was six years and a broken engagement ago.

Meg has only one day in Siem Reap, Cambodia, before she must leave for her sister’s wedding in Bali. She fulfills her dream of taking a photograph of the sun rising behind Angkor Wat, one of the oldest temples in the world. But her joy is short-lived when she turns around to see RJ standing behind her.

RJ threw himself into work after Meg ended their relationship. He’s built a successful business, but it’s a hollow victory. He’s come to Siem Reap to win back the woman he’s never stopped loving. But first he has to convince her to spend the day with him.

Meg is as physically attracted to RJ as she ever was. Maybe the secret to finally getting over him is a one day only, no strings attached fling.

Can RJ win Meg back, or will she love him and leave him?

How long have you known you wanted to be a writer?

It's always been my dream. I'm a bookworm. Every time I went into a library or bookstore, I dreamt of what it would be like to see my name on the spine of book. I'm so thrilled that I have an e-book, but in truth, my next goal is to reach that moment when I can hold a physical novel I've written in my hands.

Was there a perfect moment that crystallized for you, solidified this amazing job?

Although I was a reader, the first series I remember wishing I'd written was "The Baby-Sitters Club" by Ann M. Martin. I would imagine stories where I was one of the BSC members (what I now know would be fanfic). It made me want to have the writing stamina to actually write a book. In third grade we had an English project where we made books. We wrote the stories, typed them out (on a typewriter--I feel so old), illustrated them and bound them. Holding my magnum opus about unicorns that escaped to the mountains of Florida and became friends with hostile Peguses was perhaps the moment the hunger to be author crystallized for me.

I did that project, too, only we did it in 5th grade, and our books were handwritten -- I grew up in a small, rural town, and it was unlikely that anyone in my 5th grade class had access to a typewriter. Do you still have yours? I know exactly where mine is. 

We used the school typewriters for ours. But my family had a typewriter all the way through high school. I remember typing out a fifteen page research paper for my AP History Class on that damn thing. I think it was sold, or perhaps broke while I was at college?  I still do double spaces between sentences. When I'm editing I do a search and replace to convert double spaces into single spaces.

Of course, all writers have their favorite authors, novels, that influence them in their own work (and feel free to mention a few of these, as well), but who are some of your -other- inspirations? Favorite teachers, an old boss, best friend from high school. Who in your life can you honestly say "without them, I wouldn't be here?"

Authors whom I read that inspire me include Mercedes Lackey's early work (especially Magic's Pawn), Anne Bishop's Black Jewel's series, Alison Tyler, Tamsin Flowers, Alisha Rai, and of course Lynn.

Awww. thanks! One of the unexpected benefits to this job has been the absolutely wonderful people I've met and worked with.

Growing up as a poor kid with a single mom, I encountered a lot of people who expected me to fail. That I would become a teenage mom and continue the cycle of poverty. The people who really made a difference in my life include (but are not limited to) the following. My grandmother, for telling me that I was going to go to college so much that I knew that to be a fact before I even knew what college was. Ms Vincent, my first grade teacher, who pushed me to read more challenging books. My high school history teacher for pushing us to write our own research papers and think independently. Two of my college professors--Laura Prieto and Catherine Allgor for pushing me to become a better writer and researcher. The two rocks in my life, though, are my best friend and my husband. I met my best friend at JC Penny's in 1996, when we both worked in the bed and bath department. Whether we lived ten minutes or ten thousand miles apart, we are in constant contact, and I would be lost without her support. She knows details about me that I've forgotten (and vice versa). My husband and I were married in 2006. From the moment we started emailing, there was something there. He is the first person I want to call when something goes good or bad. He is my first beta reader, and does dual duty as my toughest critic and biggest cheerleader. I have two close friends in Singapore with whom I have a 24/7 chat going. We beta read each other's work, support each other when we're down, and talk about everything from our kids and cats to politics to books to anything. In my current writing community, Lynn and Tamsin have become two of my closest friends and cheerleaders. They beta read Capturing the Moment and helped shape it into a story worthy of publication.

Ha! Must be nice to have your spouse so involved with your work -- mine flat-out refuses to read anything that I wrote. He says it's enlightened self-preservation, and if you've ever seen me pissed off, you might agree with him. Does it ever cause you conflicts with your husband?

My husband is my biggest supporter and my toughest critic. I recently submitted a paranormal story, but when I gave him the first draft he was really unhappy with it. I sulked for a while and then I told him I was ready to listen to his critiques. Not the first nor the last time that was my reaction. I let him know when I'm feeling too fragile or depressed to handle the hard criticisms.  


Now that you're finished with Capture the Moment, what new stories and ideas are you working on, now? Any goals for the rest of the year?

I actually just finished the first draft of what I hope will be my second book, Plunder. There is a short story version coming out in Rogues this month, but Bree and William demanded a novel. Editing Plunder over the summer in time to submit in the fall is my biggest goal. Here's my blurb for Pluner--Sparks fly when the Caribbean’s most fearsome pirate falls under the spell of a sexy spitfire who’d rather send him to Davy Jones’s locker.

I've written three (four?) short stories this year and I have another three or four planned, including another installment in my North Pole series. (New on the Naughty List is in Coming Together for the Holidays and A Reindeer by Any Other Name is in Coming Together: Strange Shifters)

Within the next few months, I plan to start a paranormal romance that will hopefully begin a series. The first installment will be called The Lioness and the Mouse.

I also have a few ideas for another contemporary kicking around, including the story of an expat leaving Singapore. After living here for six years, and seeing a number of close friends moving on, I've begun to contemplate what the emotional process of leaving after so long would be. How much more complicated does that experience become when you fall in love with someone who is staying put?

There's a country-western song I particularly like called Why Can't Dallas Be In Tennessee, which is about someone moving on and someone staying put and the eventual break up of their relationship. I spend a lot of time yelling at the male singer... "Oh, there's something wrong with you moving to Texas with her? Really?"

LOL. Well if they're Singaporean, getting a visa might make it tough to move to the US :)


The quiet game had begun in their dorm rooms when they were first dating. One night, Meg was sleeping over in RJ’s room. They’d gone to bed wearing pajamas, cuddling until the lights were turned off. Silently, they had waited for Tom to start snoring, signaling that it was safe to hook up.

RJ’s hands had slipped up under Meg’s T-shirt to touch her while they kissed. He’d whispered, “Shh, we have to be quiet,” reminding her that she couldn’t scream when she came. He’d slid a hand into her pajama pants and she had rubbed against his eager fingers.

RJ had rolled on top of her. Missionary position had carried less risk of dislodging bedding and exposing themselves to Tom if he woke up. The thin layers between them did nothing to hide his erection. Her eager mouth had explored his neck, his chest, his nipples, always returning to his full lips.

Their desire had mounted until they couldn’t resist any longer. Pajama bottoms had been discarded. RJ lay on top of her, their legs entangled.

“Be quiet or Tom will hear you,” RJ had reminded her.

It had been an erotic charge to try to keep their tryst from revealing any skin above the blanket and to stay as silent as possible.

RJ had made it harder. He’d taken his time, whispering dirty suggestions as he’d thrusted into her. “What would you do if I invited Tom to join us? Would you suck his cock while I fucked you from behind? Don’t you want to let him hear you? You’d love it if I tossed this blanket off us right now and he could see us fucking.”

Fantasies Meg had confessed to RJ while he’d gone down on her in the basement of the library. Hearing him suggest them back to her had aroused Meg until she had been panting. She’d moved her hips eagerly, meeting his. She’d whimpered when his fingers had slipped between them to stroke her clit.

“If you can’t be quiet, I’ll have to spank you,” RJ admonished her. “Of course, you want to be spanked again, don’t you?”

The idea of a spanking had triggered her orgasm. She’d turned her head and buried it in a pillow to muffle her screams. RJ had known how to play her like a violin.

Voyeuristic fantasies had become a regular part of their sex life. The idea of Tom seeing them, or of RJ sharing her with Tom had always gotten her off. The following year he’d gotten a single dorm, which had simplified their sex life, although Meg had missed the thrill of near discovery.

* * * *

They were alone in a hotel room but it was time to play the quiet game again. RJ’s tongue worked its magic, flicking the swollen bud faster. The fire that had been building blazed. Meg ground her teeth. She grabbed a pillow to let out a soft moan.

“Bad girl,” he murmured. His teeth nipped her and she was ready to beg.

“RJ, fuck me, please. I need you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her tone urgent.

When he licked her aggressively, she couldn’t help it. She gave herself over to the inferno. Writhing beneath his merciless tongue, she screamed, “Oh, God, RJ! Yes! Don’t stop!”

He chuckled. “Your broke the rules. Turn over.”

You never forget your first love…

Meg and RJ were passionately in love. But that was six years and a broken engagement ago.

Meg has only one day in Siem Reap, Cambodia, before she must leave for her sister’s wedding in Bali. She fulfills her dream of taking a photograph of the sun rising behind Angkor Wat, one of the oldest temples in the world. But her joy is short-lived when she turns around to see RJ standing behind her.

RJ threw himself into work after Meg ended their relationship. He’s built a successful business, but it’s a hollow victory. He’s come to Siem Reap to win back the woman he’s never stopped loving. But first he has to convince her to spend the day with him.

Meg is as physically attracted to RJ as she ever was. Maybe the secret to finally getting over him is a one day only, no strings attached fling.

Can RJ win Meg back, or will she love him and leave him?

Capturing the Moment is on sale everywhere!


After 30 years of snowy New England winters, Delilah Night moved to steamy Southeast Asia. While she doesn’t miss shoveling snow, she does miss shopping for bargains at Target.

In 2014, Delilah visited Cambodia for the first time and fell in love with Siem Reap. Many of her misadventures from that vacation (including the one with the monkey) made their way into this story.

Connect with Delilah on her blog, Twitter, or Facebook

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Science Fiction, Double-Feature... picture show....



(sorry, had to)

Theory of Love BannerTitle: Theory of Love
Authors: Kayla Bashe, Alain Bell, M.D. Grimm, Asta Idonea, D. C. Juris, Dale Cameron Lowry, Lila Mathews, Charles Payseur, Jessica Payseur, Maia Strong, Lynn Townsend, K.S. Trenten.
Edited by Deelylah Mullin
Publisher: Torquere Press
Cover Artist: Kris Norris
Release Date: May 18, 2016
Heat Level: 5
Pairing: both M/M and F/F stories
Length: 80,000 words


Romance - Contemporary, Erotic Romance, F/F Romance, M/M Romance
Science Fiction – Hard Science, Romantic, Futuristic



In Theory of Love, we wave our geek flag high! Tales from deep space, sci-fi realities, technology, academia, and cosplay are brought together in this collection. In Dale Cameron Lowry’s Far From Home, long-distance spouses fan the flames of passion while fighting to save humanity. Meat Space by Lynn Townsend, brings virtual space and the real world crashing into a new reality. Asta Idonea’s Captive shows us that love can form in any manner of situations. Beta Tester by Charles Payseur immerses the reader—and the characters—in a virtual reality that brings a friendship to a whole new level. K.S. Trenten’s A Symposium in Space, love is a different meal to every guest. Unexpected Dilemmas by Jessica Payseur long-distance lovers face hijacking and natural disaster to be together. Kayla Bashe’s Medic to the Hivemind a stranded student is saved by a mysterious voice with secrets. Being Jake by Lila Mathews shows readers that smart is sexy. In D.C. Juris’ Torn Apart, love provides the will to survive. Shattered Space by Alain Bell shows how love can grow from destruction. Maia Strong’s All ‘Ships May Sail connects cosplay, fandoms, and something more. Trash and Treasures by M.D. Grimm gives us a deal made in interstellar space that could be more than either party bargained for. In theory, love is easy.


From Trash and Treasure by M.D. Grimm Some of the coldness left Ronan’s eyes. He seemed confused again. Why did Tucker seem to confuse Ronan so much? Then it happened. Ronan nodded. “Deal.” Tucker barely stopped himself from gaping again. It worked? He was going to have sex? He was going to have sex! He didn’t let himself think about how long it had been since his last partner. It would only depress him. He knew what to do... mostly. Tucker tossed the ball underhand to Ronan, who caught it with a startled expression. “What?” Tucker said. “It’s not like you can go anywhere. Your ship’s caput and even if you tried to hack into my navigation system, you wouldn’t get far. My ma designed it and she was the best there was. Just letting you know in case you had a thought of bashing me over the head and commandeering my ride." Ronan looked insulted. “I would never do such a thing. I am not a thief or vagabond.” “Then what are you?” Ronan’s mouth pulled into a thin line. Tucker shrugged. “Fine. Keep your secrets. Come on, follow me. Let’s both take a well-needed shower.” A blush suddenly crept up his face. “I mean, a shower separately. Let’s take a shower—oh, never mind. Just come on.” He turned his back on Ronan and called himself an idiot. He dearly hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake. But he wouldn’t go back on it now. He really, really wanted to have sex.


Torquere Press

Theory of Love


Rafflecopter Prize: One winner will be selected to win an eBook copy of Theory of Love

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Monday, May 2, 2016

Queer Eye for Sci Fi -- the booklist


I went to RavenCon this weekend -- a smallish, book and science fiction/fantasy convention with the prerequisite dealer's room, author GOHs, filkers and panels.

I had a good time, got to see some musicians I liked (Blibbering Humdingers, Jonah Knight), a band I hadn't seen before (Positronic Cats) and a band I used to like and don't like anymore (Paradox Machine)

I met my favorite authors (Steve Miller and Sharon Lee) and got autographs and got to listen to a reading of Chapter Seven from their upcoming novel Alliance of Equals, due out sometime this summer...

I also got drafted by Nickie Jamison to help her with a panel; Queer Eye for Sci Fi...

Which is a cool panel name, and I approve 110%.

Which is how I ended up essentially reciting my reading list over the last two years to a fairly large group of strangers (there were, I think, about 30 people there for the panel, which made me really nervous right up until I actually opened my mouth,,,)

Last year, 2015, was the year of No White Men for me, as far as reading went. I made one exception, any white male whose books I was already reading (Jim Butcher, the above mentioned Steve Miller, Rick Riordan, etc) I would read IF they had books come out in a series that I was already invested in. But if not, I wanted to make sure I read women writers and persons of color writers only.

Not entirely unbelievably, I got epic amounts of shit for this decision, mostly on Facebook, but I had one particular guy who cared enough to track down my email address and send me like 30 or so obscene photographs and threats. (We're not even talking about just dick pics, but actual torture porn, because that's sure to change my mind...) You know, my $40 a month book allowance going entirely to women is going to make some white guy starve to death. Absolutely. I take full responsibility for that.

Anyway, I was asked where I got my reading lists from -- obviously some science fiction is m/m romance or erotic romance, which is a growing, but still not main-stream market -- and honestly, it's kinda a grab bag. The nicest -- and worst -- thing about having a kindle is that I can impulse buy the shit out of books.


Mary Anne Mohanraj -- Author of The Stars Change, which is a Circlet Press novel -- talks a lot about science fiction, romance, polyamory, race, sexuality, and a general amount of geekery. Also, she has cute kids and interesting stories about her life as a college professor. She's posted several books to her facebook page that I've bought and enjoyed, as well as her own work. I believe she does the con-circuits out in the mid-West from time to time.

Laura Antoniou -- Lamda Award Winning Author of The Killer Wore Leather -- is a nerdy sort, altho her books are not in genre (or at least, if there are, I haven't read them. The stuff I've read is hard core BDSM) That being said, her page has been a great place for me; she posts some book lists from time to time and there are always interesting discussions there. She's not taking friend requests at this time, but you can follow her.


Goodreads Best Science Fiction with a Gay Main Character
I obviously haven't vetted everything on this list, but I do check it out from time to time.

Gay and Lesbian Science Fiction that Doesn't Suck

Best Science Fiction Gay list

Specific Books (Listed in no Particular Order)

Dark Space -- Lisa Henry -- This book contains explicit material, but is completely fantastic. Love it. I own, but have not yet read, the sequel, Darker Space.

The Forever War -- Joe Haldeman -- no explicit material and the LGBT stuff is toward the end of the book, but has some interesting ideas of how sexuality might evolve...

The Liaden novels -- Steve Miller and Sharon Lee -- several bisexual characters and characters that have gay relationships, including Theo Waitley, the main character in Fledgling, Saltation, Ghost Ship and Dragon Ship, and Priscilla Mendoza from Conflict of Honors and several subsequent novels. There are 18+ or so books in this series, but well worth the read. The books don't carry the theme of being LGBT, but they treat it as very normal.

The Left Hand of Darkness -- Ursula K. LeGuin -- not explicit, an interesting look at a gender-swapping society. My copy of this book is so battered from multiple re-reads. Every time I read it, I find something new in there

Ascension, a Tangled Axiom novel -- Jacqueline Koyanagi -- this book is a checklist of diversity, we've got characters of color, we've got characters with a chronic illness, we've got lesbians, and we've got a damn good story. By far my favorite read from last year.

The Gumshoe, The Witch, and the Virtual Corpse -- Keith Hartman -- I have not actually read this yet, but it's been recommended to me about 80 times now, so there's that.

Ash -- Malinda Lo -- Young adult lesbian version of Cinderella. Brilliant and a finalist for a lot of awards... Absolutely, you should read this.

Dreamships -- Melissa Scott -- gay cyberpunk story...

Percy Jackson -- Rick Riordan -- this is a 10 book series and the one (two?) gay characters aren't actually outed as gay until book 9 and is a side character at best, so... a lot of emotional investment in a book series, but they are fun, and they do treat being gay as an ordinary sort of thing.

The Mortal Instruments -- Cassandra Claire -- Young adult books with a gay supporting character, as well as his love-interest and quite a lot of parental issues about it.

In the Mother's Land -- Elisabeth Vonarburg -- Translated from French, which sometimes makes the sentence construction a little odd, but bear with it, because this book is brilliant, but very hard to get a hold of. It is the sequel to The Silent City, but I didn't actually read that one.

The Handmaiden's Tale -- Margaret Atwood -- really, this should be recommended reading for just about everyone.

Marion Zimmer Bradly came up during the conversation, and I may mention her work with some caveats, the first of which is, I've never personally read anything she's written and two, her real-life stuff is problematic for me, given the accusations of child molestation. Her backlist profits are currently going to charities to help abuse victims, so if you haven't read her before, the money you give toward those books will help. At the same time, I feel very uncomfortable recommending her books, so take away from that what you will.

For those of you wanting the title of that South African novel I mentioned, I'm sorry, I can't FIND it. It was a loaner and I gave it back when I was done. I'm trying to remember who lent it to me so I can ask them. The problem with reading as many books as I do is that sometimes books and titles just slip out of my mind and I can't recall...

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Fool for Love Release. Contest!

Fool for Love Banner v1
Title: Fool for Love
Jessica Chase
Keelan Ellis
L.J. Hamlin
Asta Idonea
DC Lowry
Lila Mathews
Cassandra McMurphy
Charles Payseur
DM Roberto
Lynn Townsend
Monica Wang
Edited by B. Luckowski
Publisher: Torquere Press
Cover Artist: Kris Norris
Release Date: April 20, 2016
Heat Level: 5
Pairings: Male/Male, Female/Female
Length: 59,800
Genre/Tags: Contemporary, BDSM, Fantasy, Paranormal, Humor, Lesbian Romance, M/M Romance

Add to Goodreads



Not every love story starts out pretty, and Fool for Love has plenty of pranks, blunders, and misunderstandings to prove it. Whether it’s two college students assuming the worst or a visit from “The Trickster” himself, this collection of romantic near-misses and second chances shows that a rough beginning might very well lead to the happiest ending of all.

 In Can’t Stand the Heat by Keelan Ellis a not-so-friendly prank on a would-be sous chef’s competition goes too far, and backfires in more ways than one.

L.J. Hamlin’s Cherry Bomb introduces us to a world-weary Dom and a young fraternity brother who get off on the wrong foot, but learn that trying something new might be exactly what they need.

In Coffee and Chaos by Jessica Chase, an ambitious detective believes that his new partner is a joke, but soon realizes that he may not be quite so perfect himself.

In Lynn Townsend’s Had Me at Cheese Fries, an orderly and a nurse discover that, if they can survive April Fool’s Day in the emergency room, they can make it through anything, as long as they do it together.

In Kangaroos Next 200km by Asta Idonea, a young man learns that taking a drunken dare in the outback might not have been a very wise thing to do, but being rescued by a sexy, older trucker on a tight schedule could be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

A secret admirer teaches a Valentine’s Day-hating baker that romance isn’t dead in Moonlight Masquerade by D.M. Roberto.

In DC Lowry’s Rough Love, two college classmates discover that being perfect for one another may not be enough to keep them together unless they learn how to communicate before things fall apart.

Fifteen years is a long time to make up for, but in Lila Mathews’ Rough Waters, two former best friends realize that forgiveness is sometimes the only way to a new beginning.

In Tomatoes and Mangoes by Monica Wang, two geeky game-night enthusiasts discover that nothing says “I love you” like a never-ending stream of tricks and teases.

An unexpected encounter turns a college student’s ideas about his own sexuality inside out in Cassandra McMurphy’s The Date.

Nothing would delight Loki more than humiliating the god of thunder himself in Trickster69 by Charles Payseur—too bad his heart won’t get with the program.

 Love is love—no matter if it happens by misdeed or mayhem—and these short stories cover it all. From uncertain flirtations to the most determined pursuits, everyone has the potential to be a Fool for Love in the end.


From Monica Wang’s Tomatoes & Mangoes: 

 Having completed the uneven trade, Kei acquired Becca’s resources and soundly defeated everyone, especially Becca. Even as she was gloating, Kei stayed fixed to her exact place on the couch. She wondered if Becca noticed at all that their legs were still in contact, however minor. Or, on a negative note, what if Becca just didn’t move away because it might have seemed impolite? “Good game,” Becca beamed at her. She didn’t seem to mind that Kei lied to her about the wheat, though she wasn’t a competitive player to begin with; for most of the games, only Cory and Kei fought to win. “Thank you,” Kei said. With the distraction of the game gone, she was almost painfully aware of the gentle warmth emanating from Becca and flowing into her. Although the contact point between their thighs was limited, Kei could feel her body reacting in several other places where tension and heat were building into a wonderful sort of discomfort. She hadn’t felt like this since her early teens. She hadn’t felt like this about anyone ever. When Cory came over and split them up by walking across the couch in heavy, wobbling steps to grab a game guide from the shelf on the other end, Kei could have beaten him with the hardcover tome. Never mind that he was the one who introduced them in the first place and continued to bring them together week after week. Since Becca rarely sent her messages, Kei tried not to send her too many, either, not wanting to be a bother. One of her favourite text conversation with Becca was from the night there was a low-magnitude earthquake in their city. Did you feel the earthquake just now?! Scary! Nope, Kei wrote back. She had been eyeing the coffee table before her, wondering if she should pull out all the clutter under it so she could Duck and Cover in case of an aftershock. Now she cast earthquake safety aside and tapped out on her phone: Are you okay? Feeling like there’s an earthquake is a symptom of the flu that’s been going around.


Torquere Press | Amazon


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