Please welcome to my blog the amazing V.L. Locey with her latest release Tumble Dry
Blurb:
Roxanne Jones has one day off this weekend. She
does not want to spend it carrying
her unmentionables to the nearby Laundromat but Fate has different plans. When
the washing machine in her apartment building dies mid-cycle, Roxanne has no
choice but to finish her laundry across the street. Once inside the Tumble Dry
launderette, she discovers that the dryers aren`t the only hot things to watch.
In walks a younger man wearing the only clean items left in his wardrobe: torn
jeans, sandals, tattoos, sex appeal, and a few well-placed piercings. When the
two lock gazes no amount of fabric softener can stop the sparks from flying. It
doesn`t take long for Donovan King, an English major at the local college, to
not only woo Roxanne, he manages to begin to a steamy seduction that won`t end
until both are well-tumbled.
Buy
Links:
Excerpts:
PG
“So do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Have a couple of spare quarters? Since
you won’t let my man things gyrate around in the water with your woman things.”
Was he saying those kinds of things on
purpose? Of course he was, if the puckish grin he now wore was any indicator.
Oh, I did like this man. A lot.
“Honey, I’m not sure that your man
things are man enough to gyrate with my woman things,” I parried. He chortled
then leaned a hip into the washer, his arms folding over his bare chest.
“I’m pretty sure that they are.” He said
it with utmost confidence in the prowess of his man things. I sucked down a
large gulp, the twinge behind my eye reminding me to slow down. I sipped and
enjoyed looking at him, spying a small, silver navel ring glistening from the
neon lights overhead. My mouth was dry even though I had just swallowed some of
my drink. His steady gaze made me fidget.
“Rather sure of your man things, aren’t
you?” I finally said, as I tossed my change purse to him. He caught it with one
hand, his eyes never leaving my face.
“Rather,” he commented offhandedly,
opened the tiny bag then extracted four quarters. My tongue toyed with the end
of my straw. He laid the purse on the top of the machine next to his then
arranged the coins in the slots, all four standing erect. Mmm, what a nice word
that is. Erect. Makes all sorts of dirty, sweaty images appear inside a woman’s
mind, doesn’t it?
R
“Excuse me, sir, but this cart is mine.”
“Really? And how is that, Roxanne?
Clearly I was here first.” He leaned over the cart, his scruffy cheek brushing
mine he whispered beside my ear. “You were engrossed with erotic thoughts about
my mouth and the pleasure it could bring you.”
He drew back. My brain shut down as my
mouth dropped open. That was all the time Donavon needed to commandeer the
cart.
“No I wasn’t.” There. Take that. I bet
that verbal spear pierced a few vitals. Not.
Damn the man for reading me like that
beaten-up poetry book of his. He shrugged a shoulder, the inked one. An
emerald-eyed tiger rolled it’s head at the up and down motion.
“Yeah, you totally were. Would you like
me to tell you the signs of arousal that you’re wearing at the moment?” He
threw several pairs of wet jeans into the cart. They landed with a slap.
“The only thing that I’m wearing at the
moment is a dash of lovely,” I
countered quickly.
“Yes, you are incredibly lovely, and
horny. Your nostrils are flared, your eyes are wanton, your nipples are hard,
and you keep licking your lips.” He paused in tossing balled-up shirts into the
cart. “You also keep crossing and uncrossing your legs.”
Shit. Okay. So the man knew I was
sporting a big girl-boner for him.
“Maybe I just have hives.” I tugged the
cart away from him then stalked over to my washer with the buggy in tow. I
heard his throaty chuckle behind me.
“Maybe you want me to take you somewhere
private and read you something…Sapphic.”
He was right behind me, his breath
fluttering past my left ear, his body close enough to exchange sparks with
mine. Damn. Damn. Damn. My spine stiffened, as did my nipples. They were now so
hard they hurt.
“You think reading me lesbian poetry
will turn me on?” I inquired, trying to sound as if his smoldering nearness was
having no effect. The smoky cast to my voice kind of ruined the indifferent
attitude I was going for.
“I think you’re already turned on.” I
heard the cart being nudged aside. I stood as still as a deer in a strange
meadow, alert to every sound. My fingers gripped the lid to the machine as he
stepped closer. The touch of his chest to my back was seismic. Desire didn’t
just uncoil like a snake finding a warm rock, it rose up like a jungle cat, and
then stretched, sharp claws of need raking open my calm exterior.
Author
Bio:
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, one dog, two
cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and two steers: one named after a famous N.H.L.
goalie while the other carries the moniker of a 60`s pop legend.
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.
I
love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-
Twitter-
https://twitter.com/vllocey
Secret
Cravings Backlist Books:
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)
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
Every Sunday at One (Part of the 2013 Charity
Sip Anthology)
Night of the Jackal
And coming in 2015 exclusively from
Torquere Press . . . An Erie Operetta and Early to Rise - A Toms & Tabbies Tale.
Thanks so much for having me over to visit your lovely blog, Holly.
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