Book Name: Long Change
Release
Date: June 26, 2015
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
Pages or Words: 70 pages
Categories: Contemporary, M/M Romance,
Sports
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.
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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:
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
Cover
Artist: Allyse Karam
Tour Dates & Stops: June 26, 2015
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Thank you for hosting me today! Skate hard and love deeply. ~ V.L.
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