TITLE – A Most Unlikely Countess SERIES – To Love a Wildcat Series AUTHOR – V.L. Locey GENRE – Erotic Hockey Romance PUBLICATION DATE – Sept. 15, 2015 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) - 144 pages PUBLISHER – Gone Writing Publishing COVER ARTIST – Dawne Dominique - DusktilDawn Designs
Painfully shy Liz Argon probably shouldn`t be dreaming of Veikko Aho, star goalie for the Philadelphia Wildcats. As she works side by side with 'The Count of the Crease' on his memoirs, she finds herself falling for the handsome goaltender. His tender ways with her and her mentally fragile mother are slowly claiming her heart. If only Veikko wasn`t already engaged to a woman far better suited to move in to 'The Count`s' world. In book two of the To Love a Wildcat series, we`ll see if a glass slipper can survive in the rough and tumble world of professional ice hockey.
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We lay on our backs, all traces of unease gone from my body. I don`t remember dropping off. Sleep crept up on me on stealthy tippy-toes to tug me unknowingly into its embrace. I recall waking up a few minutes later though. My eyelids sluggishly crawled upward. Sky blue eyes enveloped me. We were lying facing each other, Veikko and I. I wanted to say something witty or erudite but nothing came. All I did was nod when he silently asked for permission with his eyes. He rose up on one elbow. His head dipped. Just as his lips brushed mine, I closed my eyes. That soft brush of mouth on mouth sent my pulmonary system into a wild spiraling escalation. Using every sense but sight I emblazoned this moment onto my memory banks, because I knew, I just knew, nothing would ever top his mouth on mine.
Smell let me know the linens were fresh and he had used soap with a hint of elderberry. Touch informed me that he was moving as he put greater pressure on my pursed lips. Hearing told me his breathing was steadier than mine. Taste was screaming at me about how badly it was being denied. A tender touch of his tongue across the seam of my lips…taste sighed in rapture when I tentatively flicked the end of his tongue with mine. The man murmured something against my mouth as his weight shifted again. The words were in a foreign language. It didn't matter if I understood him or not. Veikko was kissing me and not without passion.
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.
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