I’m preparing to send The Firebird Trilogy Book 3 off to my publisher. Only problem? It still doesn’t have a title, and that’s where you come in.
If I choose your title, you will receive an acknowledgement in the book, signed paperback copies of Firebird and What’s Left of Me, and more!
The blurb isn’t finalized yet, and I don’t want to give too much away, so check out the first two books to get an idea of the themes and characters.
Don’t have the first two books yet? Grab them here:
Comment here with your suggestion, or get in touch through the contact form. I’ll be running the contest through October 31 and announcing the winner on November 1. Good luck!
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?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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.
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
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
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)
Firebird was the first book I’ve written in which real-life people inspired most of the characters. Let’s start with Alex Volynsky, whose was influenced by the largest number of actual human beings, beginning with former Philadelphia Flyer Eric Wellwood.
Eric’s career was sadly cut short by a horrifying on-ice accident that became the story behind Firebird. Fortunately, he’s coaching now, just like Alex.
Next we have one that might be all too obvious: The Great 8, Alexander Ovechkin.
He’s big, he’s Russian, he’s one of the greatest hockey players in the world, and he’s named Alex. Physically, though, Alex Volynsky doesn’t resemble him much. (You can check out my Pinterest board for that.)
The third major inspiration was Tyler Seguin.
I don’t find Tyler all that attractive I’M SORRY PLEASE DON’T HURT ME. He’s an inspiration mainly for the party-boy reputation that made him famous (or infamous) in Boston.
Other people contributed in various ways, and pieces of myself end up in every character, but now you know the major influences behind Firebird‘s cast.
Be sure to grab a copy of Firebird before the sequel releases on July 26!
I am pleased to reveal the official blurb for What’s Left of Me (The Firebird Trilogy #2), releasing July 26!
Recovering from years of living the superstar hockey life wasn’t easy, but now Aleksandr Volynsky finally has everything…
He’s married to the love of his life, expecting a daughter, and has a new job as an assistant coach with his old team, the Buffalo Gladiators. His happiness is short lived, however, when a sexual assault allegation surfaces, and Alex is forced to cooperate with an investigation for a crime he didn’t commit.
Stephanie Hartwell is juggling her dream job with marriage and motherhood, but she’s not convinced she’s doing any of it well…
Stephanie’s stress level goes from bad to worse when she’s diagnosed with a serious illness. Battling declining health and the critics who question her commitment to Alex in light of the allegation, she makes a decision that could change their relationship forever.
Alex is afraid he’s about to lose everything—especially when he sees Stephanie’s friend kiss her…
Devastated that his life is spiraling out of control again, Alex turns to his friend, Natasha, a Russian pop star. Convinced that Stephanie and her friend Brandon are having an affair, Alex resumes his self-destructive behavior.
What Alex doesn’t know is Stephanie has been conducting a secret investigation of her own. She learns the truth behind the sexual assault—a truth no one, especially Alex, expects.
With everything now out in the open, can Stephanie and Alex commit to a fresh start for the sake of their daughter, or will the ghosts of their pasts finally tear apart everything they have left?
In other exciting news, Firebird is in production as an audio book! More details to come, but look for it later this year on Amazon, Audible, and iTunes.
Series: Midtown Brotherhood Book 1
Genre: Sports Romance
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Release Date: Nov. 3, 2015
– SYNOPSIS –
Henrik Rylander doesn’t just participate in Manhattan’s dating scene—he owns the exclusive rights to it…
As the newly-minted captain of the New York Rangers hockey team, Henrik’s coach wants him to clean up his reputation. But Henrik isn’t quite ready to give up charming panties off co-eds, so he decides to indulge in one last night of uninhibited freedom.
Leila Blakely has never been the “cry into your Baskin-Robbins” type…
When she figures out her boyfriend has been cheating, she has only one objective—vengeance. Conveniently, the jerk’s arch-nemesis and her secret college crush, Henrik Rylander, is in town. She cleverly surprises Henrik in his hotel room and makes him an offer consisting of sex, lies, and the bathroom wall at the Regency. So what if she forgot to mention she was a virgin?
If their secret gets out, it will make headlines. Guaranteed…
Deflowering the little sister of the most volatile enforcer in the NHL—who also happens to be his best friend—is a recipe for disaster. Henrik decides to ditch his horn-dog stigma to quell any suspicion and embarks on a mission to befriend Leila, only to be served a big slice of humble pie.
Leila isn’t buying Henrik’s nice-guy act, though she can’t deny their attraction. But Henrik isn’t acting, and he’s ready to confront his feelings for the feisty girl with the heart tattoos.
However, Henrik soon discovers there’s much more at stake than his reputation and the status of his bromance with Leila’s brother.
Earning Leila’s trust might be the key to saving his career…and her life.
– PURCHASE –
AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/1S9d3IO
AMAZON UK: http://amzn.to/1MZjWYR
– TEASER –
She tried to shut the door, but he caught it. “You’re tired a lot lately.”
Her stomach knotted up, and she suddenly felt nauseous. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just seems that you’re always putting off hanging out with me,” he explained in a whisper, but she could feel the tension in his voice.
She let out a sigh. Relieved. “I’m not avoiding you, Henrik.”
He smiled, a small dimple forming in his cheek. “Yes, you are.”
He stepped forward, his hand grazing under her elbow as he dropped his voice between them. “Yes, you are.”
– EXCERPT –
Custom tailored suit.
Flawless, panty dropping five o’clock shadow.
Henrik ran his thumb down the hard line of his chin and smirked to himself.
The ladies in Newark were in for a treat tonight. Usually, he just crashed after games—part of the constant refueling process required of a professional hockey player. As the newly appointed captain, it was his job to set a positive example for the guys now. Every game counted in their eighty-two game season, and discipline was key.
At least that’s the sermon his coach continued to preach at him.
Responsibility. Team work. Blah. Blah. Ugh.
However, tonight was the season opener, and they’d won decisively against their bitter rivals—the New Jersey Devils. In celebration, because he always looked for a good excuse to celebrate, he planned to ignore the advice of his coach in order to get shit faced and make good use of his second greatest talent. He’d get lectured for it tomorrow, but it wouldn’t be the first time he showed up for practice hung over and satisfied.
He slipped his wallet into his back pocket and paused at the mirror for final inspection. Admittedly impressed, he straightened the collar of his navy sports coat. He’d cropped his signature Swedish blonde locks short enough to tuck behind his ears. It was his beginning of the season ritual, and it made his blue eyes pop in contrast. That’s what the caramel haired beauty he’d entertained during his pregame interview had told him anyway.
After effectively admiring himself from every angle, he had no choice but to agree with her. Humility had never been his strong suit. In his opinion, he’d finally mastered perfection, except when he turned his cheek, his eyes narrowed, focusing on the tiny, puckering cut at the corner of his lip. His teeth snapped shut.
Derek Deroty would pay for his intentional attempt at taking him out of the game tonight. He might have to wait a couple months until their next scheduled slaughtering, but the bastard would eventually get what was coming to him.
A high stick to the nose, or maybe he’d finally just drop gloves with the prick.
For now, he’d just accept it as a battle wound. The girls would love it.
A light, but persistent knock broke the silence. He immediately rolled his eyes, turning away from the mirror. Austin forgot his keycard. Again. He’d forget the days of the week if Henrik wasn’t around to kick his ass in gear every morning.
He searched the counters, but found nothing as he made his way over to the door. It was probably in his gym bag. He bent down to laugh at his best friend through the peephole when—
It was a woman.
His head fell against the door as he held back the groan that wanted to follow the mumbling. Why were women so intent on taking all the fun out of the hunt? He at least wanted to have a few drinks first, swap some stories with his team mates who would be mingling amongst the crowd, and then, as the night drew to a close, he’d start his pursuit. Showing up at his door was equivalent to throwing prepackaged meat to a caged tiger.
He jerked the door open, prepared to shush away his visitor like a stray pigeon before making a beeline for the elevator, but then she turned.
Vibrant green eyes shined up at him, a familiarity he hadn’t expected to find.
“Leila?” He choked out the word, his hand grasping the door handle like a life preserver. He blinked twice, attempting to convince himself that the disheveled hot mess in front of him was real.
Leila tugged harshly at a strand of her auburn waves that sprayed across her bare shoulders and down her back. Her normally flawless, porcelain skin was flushed and he recognized the volatile glint in her eyes. She wasn’t just pissed. Leila Blakely was on the fuck off side of irate.
It was definitely real.
He straightened his shoulders, and then tested his voice before he spoke. “What the hell do you want, Blakely?”
What did she expect from him? Her scumbag boyfriend had taken a cheap shot at him no less than two hours ago. He still had a little built up aggression brewing inside of him, too. She wasn’t there to apologize on Derek’s behalf, he knew that. Sympathy wasn’t part of the Blakely genetic code. He knew that fact first hand, because his best friend, who knocks heads together for a living, just happened to be her older brother.
“Invite me inside,” she instructed, tucking the strand of hair behind her ear before running those long, delicate fingers down her throat.
The gesture almost distracted him, but just the sound of her voice set his nerves on edge. Only an idiot would be fooled by the glistening threat of tears in her eyes. He wasn’t about to be lured by the lamb to the wolf’s den. Leila projected an image of sophistication and innocence, but it was all a show. The hologram in front of him was a shell hiding the reality he knew all too well.
The real Leila wore converse and ratty hockey shirts. She cursed like a sailor set on shore for leave, and she was tougher than half the men he knew. Her façade melted away as her temper started to hit its peak. So after all these years Leila finally wanted to talk to him.
Too bad he didn’t give a fuck.
“I’m actually headed out for the night,” he told her, looking past her toward the elevator. He wanted a drink and a sexy woman writhing underneath him later. He deserved it. He’d worked non-stop the past eight weeks, performing two a days in preparation for the season. All he wanted was one last night out.
No hockey. No commercials. No interviews.
Just good ol’fashion dirty fun.
Leila rolled her eyes at him though, and pushed past him into the room.
“Excuse you?” He was angered by her bold move, but most of all, annoyed that he couldn’t stop himself from watching the way the hem of her dress swayed against her thighs.
How could it be that short without revealing something?
“I require your assistance,” she said flatly, her chin set. “Shut the damn door.”
It had been years since he’d seen this side of her. Well, not since she started dating that spawn of satan, Derek. She was always so prim and nauseatingly proper when she was around him. “Well, you’re barking up the wrong tree, cupcake. Why don’t you go ask your boyfriend for help?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. It was quick, and someone else may not have noticed it, but Henrik knew her too well. He’d spent too many hours dissecting the nuances of her every reaction, searching for the real emotion trapped within her chilled exterior, not to recognize the fire she desperately tried to barricade behind that smile. “He’s busy,” she stated, her tone acidic.
Suddenly intrigued, he flung the door shut.
Surely, Leila wasn’t upset with her perfect, little golden boy.
– ABOUT THE AUTHOR –
Savannah was born in Hyden, Kentucky. She received her M.S in Speech Language Pathology from The University of Mississippi in 2009. She’s been writing since the early age of nine when she begged her parents for a type writer for Christmas. She now lives in Corbin, Ky with her husband of eight years, John, and their two wonderful daughters, Delilah and Gracie. When she isn’t working, or running after her kids, she spends her free time traveling the country with her husband. There is nothing better than a day of football in the grove, a late night of basketball at Rupp Arena or slapping the glass to celebrate another Washington Capitals goal. She is a strong believer that with enough hard work and determination you can accomplish anything.
LIMITLESS PUBLISHING: http://www.limitlesspublishing.net/authors/savannah-blevins/