Thank you to everyone who helped make the Synchronous
Seductions series so popular!
Emery’s Ritches is
now on All Romance e-books top rated as #1!!! (Holy shit!!!!) and all three
individual books are on ARe’s best selling romantic comedy list!!!
Okay – I need to lay off the exclamation points,
but I’m just so freaking excited. :)
Harlan’s Ryde is
still available at ARe for free – so you can whet your whistle before diving
into the whole series...and if you like stubborn, dominate, snarky men, you
will definitely want to dip into this pool of them—six men that will blow you
When you’re in the need for some dominant, snarky,
pain in your ass men.
Fuzzy is an
unsatisfied ladies’ man. Geoff’s a bear-loving man who satisfies. Problem?
Convincing a straight man that satisfaction might be just around the bend.
Warning: These books are chocked full of domineering men
who don’t like to take no for an answer. If arrogant alpha men make your heart
beat faster and other places tingle, this is the book for you.
**These three stories have been individually
published. But if you prefer your men all in one place, they’re now ready and
willing for you to enjoy them as one complete collection. Synchronous Seductions is
available exclusively at Amazon—and if you are a member of Kindle Unlimited you
can even read it for free. :)
Skyler Foxe Mysteries, bk 5 plus 2
novellas (one due soon!)
date: November 2014
the distinct honor to be able to interview Skyler’s bestie, Ms. Sidney Feldman.
Here’s a quickie introduction before the questions begin.
Sidney Feldman is Skyler Foxe’s straight friend. Growing
up with him she knows his ins and outs and ALL his secrets. They shared a lot
growing up, even—much to her boyfriend and police partner Mike de Guzman’s
disquiet—a little sexual exploration. Not that they “did it” or anything (in
Skyler’s words, “Eww!”), but she wanted to see his, he wanted to see
hers…normal curiosity stuff. But Skyler always knew he was gay even before he
knew what it meant. And Sidney was never attracted to the short, slight blond.
But after they went their separate ways out of high school—Skyler to the
University of Redlands for his teaching degree and Sidney to the police academy—they’d
never really been parted. Sidney became the youngest and one of the first
female detectives with the Redlands PD and she loves her job. And she loves her
best pal Skyler. And though she yells at him and calls him nasty names in
Yiddish, she’s secretly proud of him for solving so many murders.
What is your biggest
That Skyler will get himself killed doing his stupid
investigations that I keep telling him not to. If he can’t see how dangerous it
is then I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I thought Hunk-on-a-Stick (Keith, his
boyfriend) might rein him in but he’s supporting the dumbass with
investigating. What’s it gonna take? Him coming home dead?
What is your most
I’m gonna say my gun. I know this sounds stupid, but I’ve
been a cop long enough to see people’s stuff stolen, see fires destroy, and
possessions are so ephemeral. Your life is more important than a bunch of
stuff. But my gun was a gift to me from my favorite uncle. My dad died before I
graduated from the academy but Uncle Irving was always there for me and my mom.
It’s a good gun, too. And it has protected me and the citizens of Redlands too
many times to count.
What do you enjoy
doing on your day off?
Mike and I moved in together not too long ago and so we are
kind of fixing up the place. Sometimes we’re too exhausted—physically and
mentally after the long week—to do much else. So we like to take it easy. But I
love going to the movies, too, and I wouldn’t turn away a trip to the wine
country for the day.
Your best childhood
Skyler and I investigated a haunted house in our
neighborhood. Jeez, I haven’t thought of that in a million years. I wonder if
that was where he got his investigating gene. Anyway we were like nine or ten
and it was just an abandoned house—was abandoned for years—and we snuck in
through the fence to the back door. Man it was creepy but really exciting. We
were kind of playing the Hardy Boys. There was a dead raccoon in the living
room and we tried to investigate who killed it. I’ll have to ask him if he
remembers that. It was our first case.
Where do you hope to
be in five years?
I hope to move up in Redlands PD. I knew they felt
pressure to promote me because they needed more women in the position but I
think I showed them that I’m more than competent. Of course, where does that
leave Mike? We don’t really talk about the future. I think when you’re a cop
it’s always in the back of your mind that…you know. But who knows? Something
could open up for the both of us. I’m hoping we’ll both be together. He’s
someone I could build a life with. Someone’s gotta help me keep Skyler in line.
It’s a two-person job at least!
Skyler and his friends go to Palm Springs for the annual
White Party and find murder!
Out and proud high school English teacher Skyler Foxe and
his posse of friends go to the annual Palm Springs White Party for a weekend of
fun, frivolity, and luscious men. But there are boy troubles of all kinds
ahead. Skyler's boyfriend and high school coach Keith Fletcher has to endure an
embarrassing number of Skyler's former hook-ups, one of the SFC might be going
solo, Skyler encounters unexpected and unwelcome participants at the party, and
there's a murder on the dance floor, literally at Skyler's feet! Both Skyler
and Keith are drawn into investigating more than murder when the FBI asks
Skyler to do the unthinkable.
Taquito Grill was crowded for a Sunday night. Jamie and
Dave had arrived not long after Skyler and Keith. Jamie, hair spiked and a fire
engine red in honor of his firefighter boyfriend, clung to Dave’s arm and
bounced in his seat. “We’re so excited about Palm Springs,” he squealed. Dave
grinned at him fondly. “It’s going to be so much fun with Dave there.” He
patted the large bicep. “And we both
agreed that we can dance with other people. Isn’t that cool?” Dave nodded.
“Just as long as we keep our hands above the waist.” Jamie demonstrated with
jazz hands in the air.
Skyler glanced hopefully at Keith, but the man was
scowling into his bottle of Dos Equis. With a defeated sigh, Skyler sat back
against the bench seat. Part of the fun of the White Party was dancing with a
bunch of different partners. But, he had to admit, the other part of the fun
was hooking up with them, too. Under the table, he rubbed conciliatory circles
on the man’s hard thigh.
Keith’s tensed muscles seemed to relax under Skyler’s
ministrations and he flicked a glance at Skyler with a sheepish smile before
putting the beer bottle to his lips.
“Oh, and Dave,” Jamie rambled on, “we are staying at a
huge hotel. It’s fantastic. Humongous pool. And some of the activities will be
“Activities?” said Keith for the first time since ordering
Jamie leaned across the bench seat toward him. “Well! One
of the activities is the Splash Pool Party, with live music. It’s all day. Nothing but beautiful shirtless
men in tiny white swim trunks.”
Skyler wondered if Keith’s brows could furrow any deeper.
“White? So you have to wear white?”
“It’s a ‘white party,’ Keith,” said Skyler. “Hence the
name. We wear white. And you’d look fabulous in white, with your dark skin
tones.” He squeezed Keith’s thigh under the table.
Keith seemed to be thinking his own thoughts about that as
he studied Skyler. “You’d be in white, too. I love you in white.”
Skyler blinked. “You do?” He melted against Keith. He couldn’t
help it when the man looked at him with those sultry eyes.
“Save it for the White Party,” said Jamie.
Dave turned his head toward the door. “Philip and Rodolfo.
Finally! …Uh oh.”
They were in mid argument and hadn’t taken their narrowed
eyes off each other as they made their way to the table. Rodolfo sat hard and
crossed his arms over his magenta shirt. Philip settled on his chair and
pointedly looked away from his Ecuadorian boyfriend.
Skyler instantly went on alert. “What’s the matter with
“Nothing this pene doesn’t know about,” said Rodolfo,
waving his hand. His wrist clanked from his bracelets.
“Don’t start with the name-calling,” said Philip, rounding
on him and pushing up his black-rimmed glasses. “Can we just stow it for now?”
“Stow it? Stow
it? Fine. I can ‘stow it.’”
“Then please do,” muttered Philip, menu in front of his
Rodolfo slapped his menu to the table and jerked toward
Philip. “Do you know what is wrong with you, Philip?”
Clutching his menu, Philip closed his eyes and sighed.
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me in florid detail.”
“You have no sense of fun or adventure. Now take amante here,” and he gestured toward
Skyler grabbed for his margarita. “Leave me out of it.”
“Skyler has a keen sense of adventure. And look. There is
Keith. He is more than willing to go to the White Party with his lover.”
“I don’t know about more
than willing,” muttered Keith.
“But not you.
You with your timetables and schedules and graphs and bullet points.”
“I’m just mapping out our weekend. Is that so horrible?
There’s a lot to do! Things to see! Men…to avoid.”
“AHA! That’s it, isn’t it? It all comes down to this.”
Jamie stuck his long arm between the two. “Hey! You guys!
You’re not supposed to argue anymore. Not since you started fucking.”
“Jamie,” said Skyler out of the corner of his mouth, eyes
searching the busy restaurant. “Keep your voice down. Family place.”
He scrunched up his face at Skyler—as close to a sneer as
he got—and leaned into the arguing couple again. “The fact is that you guys are
supposed to get along now.”
“I’m getting along just fine!” said Rodolfo too loudly.
“It’s him that isn’t getting along with me!”
Philip slumped back in his seat. “Oh, for the love of God,
give it a rest already.”
“Give it a rest? Yes, that's exactly what I should be
doing.” Rodolfo threw down the menu and lurched to his feet. “I’m suddenly not
Philip clenched his menu so tightly it bent at the edges.
“Well I am.”
“Fine! Stay here. Eat. I’m leaving.”
“Bye! Don’t let the door hit you on the way out… Much.”
Rodolfo threw his glare at each in turn before pivoting
and stalking toward the entrance. He pushed open one heavy wooden door and let
it swish shut. There was a pause as the restaurant patrons fell silent and
stared at the double doors a split second before they were thrown open again
and Rodolfo stomped toward the table. He stood over Philip with his foot
Haley Walsh tried acting, but decided the actor’s life was
not for her. Instead, she became a successful graphic designer and art director
in Los Angeles, her hometown. After fifteen years of burning money in the ’80s
and early ’90s, she retired from the graphics industry and turned her interests
toward writing. She became a freelance newspaper reporter, wrote articles for
quirky magazines, published award-winning short stories, and now writes a
critically acclaimed GLBT mystery series, the Skyler Foxe Mysteries. She’s
lived all her life in southern California, sampling wines and chomping
chocolate. Oh, and she also writes a multi-award nominated medieval mystery
series under another name. Yeah, it’s a living. http://.SkylerFoxeMysteries.com
Life has been treating Victor Kalinski well,
which is a surprise for the ginger-haired forward with the venomous tongue. His
career is somewhat stable, at least for another season. His relationship with
Cougars alternate captain Dan Arou is deepening, despite the fact that Daniel
has yet to come out of the closet.
It’s typical Kalinski luck when a puck bunny
he shared a drunken night with several months ago slaps him with a paternity
suit. Despite the sizzling passion and painfully heartfelt connection between
them, Dan doesn’t take the news well, and heads back to Canada alone.
If he wants to make things right and win
back the man he loves, he has no choice but to swallow his pride—and nobody’s
prouder than hot-headed, ego-driven Victor.
Reader Advisory: This story has
graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms)
I found Dan in our bathroom running a Q-tip
around his right ear as water from his recent shower ran from his hair. He
smiled at me, a special kind of light in his eyes. I stalled in the doorway, my
summons wrinkled in my fist. The smile disappeared from his face as I stared blankly
at him. He tossed the swab into the trash, which needed to be dumped, and
turned to face me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. My gaze roamed
over him clad in nothing but gray cargo shorts that hung off his hips. If not
for the fact that my heart was beating so hard I was scared it would blow up, I
would have gotten all over the man. He still torqued me up like no one else
ever had. “Vic, what’s wrong?”
I handed him the wadded-up legal document.
His gaze darted from my face to the crinkled papers then back to my face.
“I don’t know who the fuck this chick is,
but she is playing me,” I managed to cough up. I looked around the room, trying
to get the palpations under control. The walls had ugly flowered wallpaper on
them. The counter was plain white. Two razors lay side by side next to the
sink. Sometimes, like right then, I wanted nothing more than to grab my razor
and my toothbrush and get the fuck out of Dodge. Just seeing Dan’s personal
shit playing cozy-cozy with mine scared me to death. Most days when that urge
to fuck this thing up overtook me, I swallowed it down like a bad oyster and
forced myself to get past it. Today, then, there, that second, those two razors
were about to push old Vic K. over the brink.
“Paternity test,” he whispered as the papers
blew in a stiff summer wind. I couldn’t look away from those two disposables.
“Someone is playing me, Dan,” I grunted,
then spun from the Schick love-fest occurring on the chipped white bathroom
counter. I pounded out to the living room, my feet squelching in my wet
“Well yeah, obviously this Heather chick is
trying to pin this on you. Big-name sports star. It happens like daily, you
I nodded as I paced the small but homey
place where we spent most of our downtime, aside from the bedroom. I jammed my
fist into my other hand and began grinding as I circled the sofa.
“Yeah, but why me and why now? Why not do
this when I was pulling in the big bucks in Beantown?”
Dan dropped onto the couch and put his bare
feet on the edge of the coffee table. As I paced, he flattened out the summons
on his thick thighs and read. My gut was in turmoil. My head felt light. My
heart still thundered in my ribs. A kid. My
kid. I barely made it back to the bathroom. I threw up the fancy lunch that we
had eaten at the golf club earlier. Dan didn’t come in, which was wise. I don’t
like people fawning over me when I’m sick. Dear old Mom never did. I could
handle myself. Been doing it since I was about five. I’d had a head cold the
month before and nearly ripped Dan into bits one day for making me chicken
noodle soup. Why that man was still with me, I do not know. I retched a few
times, then slammed the lid and flushed. Over to the sink for a swig of
mouthwash. Do not look at the razors,
Kalinski, or you will make a bigger twat out of yourself.
“You okay?” Dan called.
“Yeah, just some ptomaine from the clam
chowder at lunch,” I replied, my throat and nose still burning. “I’m taking a
“Okay. I’ll read this over close while you
The shower didn’t last long enough, nor did
it help one damn bit. Aside from having nuts that smelled like an Irish glen, I
was still this close to hyperventilating. A kid. Holy fucking goat titties, I
needed a drink.
“Hey, you need to call a lawyer in the
morning,” Dan said when I shuffled into the living room in nothing but an old
pair of cutoff jeans. “This paperwork is crazy legal, but according to what
“Heather. Heather Pavlick. Who the fuck is Heather Pavlick?” I asked the
I jerked open the cupboard under the sink
and reached for the bottle of Yukon Jack, one of three or four bottles of booze
we had on hand for cocktails at night if the mood struck. Dan kind of liked
Jack over ice. Did I want ice? Did I want a glass? Nah. The whiskey burned my
raw throat like gasoline. I lowered the bottle, coughed, and ran the back of my
hand across my tingling lips. I saw Dan appear in the doorway, papers still in
his hand. He looked upset.
“I wish you’d use a glass,” he grumbled,
then stalked around me to get two tumblers from the cupboard next to the
fridge. I sucked in some air through my teeth in reply. His whole body twitched
at the sound. “Two fingers, and stop making that fucking noise,” he said after
he returned to my side. I glugged some Jack into both tumblers, my eyes on
Dan’s. He handed me a glass. We both knocked the whiskey back then went out to
the couch, him with my summons and me with the Jack.
“Okay, so this is obviously some sort of
rip-off,” Dan said after we’d dropped our asses back to the sofa. Thankfully
he’d left the boob tube off. I was so
not in the mood to talk over his science shows. I poured myself another two
fingers. Dan held up his glass, so I refreshed him. “Heather Pavlick. Is that
the girl you were serious with?”
I shook my head as I swirled the Canadian
whiskey around my glass. Mr. and Mrs. Rupert’s voices, as well as the smell of
meat grilling, rolled in through the windows.
“No, her name was Gina. We were careful. I
mean, we were obsessively careful every time we fucked to prevent any kind of
kid-making.” A kid. I couldn’t get
the glass of whiskey to my lips fast enough. Ah, what a nice burn.
“This is why you should just identify as gay
and be done with it. You don’t have to worry about knocking me up.”
“Yeah well, if I could just pick my sexual
identity like I do my socks, I would. But I kind of like pussy once in a while.
Stop badgering me, gay boy.”
“That’s just weird,” Dan muttered, and
sipped his Jack.
I nodded. Yeah, to a gay dude, wanting pussy
probably did seem weird. And while I didn’t crave it anymore because, yeah, Dan
Arou, back in the day I’d taken some great delight in leaping from twat to cock
with wild abandon.
“Maybe you can talk to someone in the team’s
legal department. I mean, this will come out. They’ll want to know about it
beforehand so they can handle the bad PR.”
“Fuck. My. Life.” I dumped more of the amber
liquid into my glass. My stomach rolled and bucked as whiskey met empty gut.
Whatever the landlord was cooking was making me queasy.
“This is just fucked,” Dan said after a long
moment of silence punctuated only by my stomach speaking up. “See, this paper
says ‘unborn child’, and that’s impossible. You and me have been tight since
Thanksgiving of last year. That’s nine months, right? November to July is
“If you count November.”
Christ on a unicycle. Dan and I really been
doing the monogamy thing for nine months. I mean, I knew that we had, but
hearing him say it out loud drove the point home. No wonder those razors made
me twitchy. That was fucking incredible. Even with Gina, I’d bailed at six
months. That had been the most solid relationship I’d ever been in before Mr.
Stumpy and I had hooked up. Someone call
Guinness. We got a new world record here. I threw another two fingers of
Yukon down. Dan made a noise about the speed of my ingestion, I assume, which I
A moment ticked by. Two. Three. Dan sipped
and repeatedly read that summons, counting and recounting the months. This was
major fuckery, because there had been no one but Dan since the first time I’d
punched him in the face.
My gaze rested on the Xbox under the flat
screen. Our games were scattered on the floor. I tipped my head to stare at the
artwork on a World War I battle game that Dan and I liked. It showed a German
zeppelin dropping bombs on some European city…
It hit me like a semi that had lost its
brakes. Ms. Goodyear. That blonde with the incredible tits. I’d rolled her the
night I’d tried to drink Dan away. Had her name been Heather? Had she said? Did
it matter? Guess so.
“Ah, fuck,” I moaned, then closed my eyes.
“What? Did you figure out who this woman
Shit. Just shit. This was going to
be bad. I inhaled through my nose, blew out the breath and started sucking on
that Jack bottle like a hungry babe. Dan jerked it from my hand. Whiskey
sloshed down my chest. I swallowed what was in my mouth, licked my lips and
turned to find Dan looking at me with concern tinting his lapis eyes.
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, two dogs, two cats, a flock of assorted
domestic fowl, and three 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.