LA Storm #1.5
Being in love with a Hollywood star isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Neither is planning a secret holiday wedding to said box-office hero. There’s the press and paparazzi to outfox, the wedding planner to please, and the catering to sort out. All of that while juggling a crushing hockey schedule and dealing with the world’s most annoying neighbor. But despite the setbacks, worries, and flight plans for family, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.
Marrying Finn Kerrigan is everything
This free short really only mentions Christmas in passing but in my heart that is all that's needed for a Xmas labelling😉. Frankly, I can't think of a better story that is most likely my final read of 2023. Sparkle is a short and sweet continuation of Script, the first entry in LA Storm which is the latest branch of the Scott & Locey Hockey Tree. I say "continuation" because lets face it, the characters of their hockey universe have a tendency to keep popping up here and there for a variety of reasons.
Sparkle will leave you smiling, shedding a few happy tears, and even a couple of bursts of laughter. Honestly, this free short is jam packed to the rafters with emotions in levels that one doesn't often find in a short of this size. Such a delicious surprise holiday treat.
Some days it was just better to stay in bed, right?
Well, what happened when you were still in bed but the day was already running out of control? Where did a man go to get away from the ultimate madness of a Christmas wedding when the sanctity of his bedroom had been breached? I’d thought of hiding under the bed but the space was too small for a hockey player.
“No way, I would not go with buying your veggies for your veggie platters from some chain store,” I heard Rottie telling my fiancé, his carton-a-day gravelly voice clawing through the pillow I’d placed over my head. “Listen, Finn, for serious, my guru knows a thing or two about this. Organic locally grown is the only way to go. I mean… move over Cameron,” the rocker said then shoved me to the edge of the bed so he could wiggle his scrawny ass between me and Finn. I said many bad words under my pillow. “Right, so what you want to do is keep everything that goes into your body clean, without fungicides, pesticides, or regicides.”
Okay, someone had to step in here. I could hear Finn typing away on his notebook. I flung the pillow aside. Rottie, who had been working an 80’ s Scottish hairband look for the past few months and my adorable Finn both glanced my way, Finn leaning to see me around the rocker wearing a bright pink and blue kilt, a bandolier filled with various tubes of fruit lip balms instead of bullets— because hey you never knew when your lips would need balm— and tiny ballet slippers smiled at me. That smile of his could wipe away most anything. Sadly, it didn’t have the power to eliminate a rock star.
“Okay, before you fill your wedding folder with everything that this cumquat says,” I jerked a thumb at my neighbor who snickered then crossed his ankles, “Regicides are not something that you spray on a pepper plant. A regicide is when you kill a king.”
Finn sighed, deleted, and then handed me his notebook, blue eyes glowing with excitement. To say that Finn was into our upcoming nuptials would be the understatement of all time. Finn had dove into setting things up with his usual love of all things life. Which was amazing and adorable, but man sometimes it was exhausting. Why I had agreed to get married on our short Christmas break from hockey spoke to how totally in love I was with the man. Most hockey players got married off-season. I simply could not wait that long to claim him as my husband, and vice versa, so yeah here we were having a discussion with a singer resting in our bed at six in the freaking morning.
“Oh right, well, most of them words that end in cide are never good. Homicide, genocide, fungicide, amigocide.”
“I… what?” I pushed up to sit and stare at Rottie.
“You know when you kill your friend. Amigocide.” He flipped back his Dee Snider locks then gave me the look that screamed he was busting my balls and knew it.
“That is not the right… never mind.” I nudged Rottie over and asked the most important question of the new day. “How did you get into my house?”
“Oh, I knocked. Finn let me in.” Rottie smiled down at me.
Finn nodded.
“Huh, I wasn’t expecting such a normal means of entry. I thought maybe you would have parachuted out of a helicopter then came down the chimney,” I tossed out.
“Nah, the chimney schtick is in two weeks,” Rottie replied then took a sip of coffee from my favorite mug. I was really going to have to talk to Finn about being so kind to our neighbors. Yeah, I was feeling my Scrooge this morning, big time. Bah and humbug.
“Do not try to get down our chimney,” I barked and got a gruff chuckle from the man wedged between me and Finn.
“Rottie, where does your guru say to get our veggies?” Finn asked as he took his notebook back and opened it, using a spare pillow as a sort of fluffy stand.
“I buy all my stuff from the San Pedro Street Community Garden. Such an amazing place, lots of small plots rented by local folks, but they also have several plots that they use for growing the goodies that they then sell. Oh, and they have bee hives too! Everything is organic and totally without any funky nasties that rot your testes.”
Finn’s bright blue peepers widened. “Holy shit, do vegetables from the store rot your balls?!”
Rottie shrugged a lean shoulder covered with various tattoos. “My guru says that you should only eat things that will make your sperm happy. That’s why I went totally vegan last month. And now I’m coming bucketfuls. I’m a god-damn sexual Velociraptor.”
“It’s a T-Rex,” I sighed out.
“Big lizard, pointy teeth, the point is that I now produce twice the amount of semen I did before and my balls are even more manly. Want to see?”
We both yelled no but he flipped up his kilt anyway.
“Go home, Rottie,” I barked, eyes squeezed shut. “And leave my mug this time.”
“Right, off I go. I have tantric drum lessons at seven followed by a photo shoot to lock down the new album cover.” He handed me my mug, stood then walked to the end of the bed, jumped down, bowed deeply, and meandered out of the bedroom door.
Saturday's Series Spotlight
Road to the Stanley Cup Edition
🏒👨❤️👨🏒💖👬💖🏒👨❤️💋👨🏒
Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, 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.
RJ Scott
VL Locey
EMAIL: vicki@vllocey.com
Sparkle #1.5
Harrisburg Railers Series
Owatonna U Series
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KOBO / WEBSITE / GOODREADS TBR
Arizona Raptors Series
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Boston Rebels Series
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Chestorford Coyotes Series
LA Storm Series
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