Let's start with you telling us a little bit about yourself, V.L.
I`d love to! I`m a full-time writer, mother, wife, tender of cows named after famous NHL goalies, gatherer of eggs, and sipper of coffee. I love reading Marvel comics, watching hockey, playing X-Box, and reading.
What would people be most surprised to learn about you?
That I have a tattoo of Wolverine on my bicep. Well, some people would be surprised. Others? Not so much.
When did you start writing, is it something you've always been interested in, or did it develop later in life?
It developed later in life. I do wish I had discovered this love of writing at an earlier age, but since I didn`t I`m making the most of this new passion!
Has it been everything you thought it would be or not?
It`s been more than I ever dreamed it could be. Coming into a new profession during your mid-forties is scary. I am thrilled to have such wonderful publishers to work with!
How did it feel when you realized that your very first book was going to be published?
I think I may have broken into a happy dance I was so elated. Then I squealed, and then I danced a bit more because one can never dance too much in life.
What's your favorite part of writing a book?
I love the entire process.
Do you get time to read for pleasure? If so, which books do you enjoy?
I do and I read voraciously. I`ve developed a wider range of genres over the years. Now I will read anything from JR Ward (who I just adore) to George R.R. Martin. I read just about any type of book that sounds good.
Are there any other genres you'd be interested in writing?
Yes, there are. I just recently began my first M/M historical western, and I love it! I`m thinking of trying my hand in fantasy for an anthology call next year.
Please tell us a little about your most recent release.
My most recent release is Love of the Hunter, a retelling of the legend of Orion. With Love of the Hunter, my male/male mythological romance, I`ve rewritten one of the classic Greek legends. In this book you will see how Apollo, the most Greek of all the gods, meets and falls in love with Orion, the famed archer. This new adult romance is a dramatic one, make no mistake. There is a reason they call these tales Greek tragedies. Love of the Hunter is filled with pain and suffering, but the sadness is tempered with a love so deep it was immortalized in the heavens forever.
What can we look forward to in the future from you?
I hope to begin penning a follow-up novella to An Erie Halloween, as well as completing the second book in the Toms & Tabbies series. I also have lots of ice hockey action coming along, both male/female and male/male. 2014 should see lots of love and laughter!
Anything you want to say to your readers?
I`d like to thank them for being so incredibly supportive. Without them, and some fine editors, I wouldn`t have had the wonderful year I recently had. It`s because of them that I am able to live this dream of being a writer.
V.L. Locey's recent releasess:
Love of the Hunter
Everyone down on Earth thinks the life of a Greek sun god is a walk through Elysium. They could never be more wrong. Apollo, the ever youthful son of Zeus is far from home, banished from Olympus to live and train with the Titan, Helios. To make matters worse, Apollo is still mourning the loss of his lover Hyacinthus. Life becomes a daily routine of shame, drudgery, and abuse until the young hunter Orion appears at the eastern end of the world, seeking the healing touch of a Titan.
When Helios refuses to aid yet another offspring of the usurping gods, Apollo hides Orion and heals the hunter as best as his fledgling powers allow. Blinded eyes heal slowly, and the son of Zeus and the son of Poseidon find themselves falling in love as months go by. But the gods of Olympus see all, and Skyfather Zeus disapproves of the budding relationship. Can the love of two young lovers stand against the disapproval and fury of the god of men? Or will the night skies forever be changed?
Templeton Reed has been hiding his inner polecat since he was a child. Keeping his animal secreted is hard for a shifter, especially when one is living in a secret community of mystical beings. It`s the wolf shifters that cause him the most trouble with their darned sensitive noses.
To start his Monday off with a bang Templeton has a run-in with the Lake Erie pack and their alpha, Mikel Lupei, at the Office for Transmogrification Registration where he has a desk job checking registration papers. After that upsetting meeting the meek and mild office worker suddenly finds himself in the center of not only civil unrest among the shifter community, but a violent plan for a coup aimed at rousting Mikel.
Office worker and skilled tracker of rogues are soon not only fighting for their lives, they`re also fighting the rigidly archaic rules of their kind, as well as the person responsible for trying to take over Mikel`s pack from the inside. Can this magical odd couple turn a passionate attraction into a full-fledged love affair?
It was supposed to be a fun-filled night at the arena, cheering on the Harrison Hawks, ogling the blond Acadian god/goalie in the crease, and maybe, if he was really lucky, catching an airborne puck with his hands and not his face.
Unfortunately for Daryl Hamilton, his first minor league ice hockey game ends with him catching something with his face, but it's not a puck. It's the fist of his dream goalie, Ryan Amirault. But while his nose may not be thankful for the badly timed autograph request, Daryl can't say that the rest of him isn't pleased with how things are turning out.
Not only is Ryan turning himself inside out to make things right with Daryl, the spark of attraction between the two men is slowly blazing up into a roaring inferno. The only problem – aside from two black eyes – is that Ryan isn't out, there's a viral video of the nose-crunching encounter, and a rather curious sports reporter is snooping around the day-care center where Daryl works. If their new love can survive all that, it will survive anything.
Excerpt from Love of the Hunter:
I let him hit me. I see the huge fist coming, and I allow it. The crunch of my nose breaking is liberating. Golden ichor gushes from my nostrils. I fall back into the wall, my arms getting caught in the thick teal drapery that hangs from the posts of the bed. I grasp a post for balance. My tongue darts out to catch a bit of the godly blood flowing down over my lips and chin.
I find Orion staring at me as if horrified.
“Apollo,” he pants, his meaty fist dangling by his thigh.
“Nay,” I cough, swallow, and then grab the curtain up to run it under my nose. The flow will stop in a moment; I am a god after all. “You did well. There are times that I require a sound punch to the face.”
“I will not hear you speak of Artemis so.” Orion steps closer. I hold the drapery tightly to my face, my eyes watery as I peek over the bloody material covering my nose and mouth. “She has been a veritable blessing during the long hours that you are gone. She tends my back, brings me well-cooked game, sings and laughs with me. She tells me stories and washes my hair.”
“She loves you, Orion.” I raise the drapery back to my nose.
He stares at me dully. He blinks at me as if I had just said something incomprehensible.
“Nay,” he says, his eyes leaping from me to his feet then to me again. He shakes his head.
“Aye,” I mumble into the material over my face.
“Nay, she is naught but a sister to me,” he says.
I drop the teal silk. A small trickle is all that remains of the bloody nose. “That is how you see her. It is not how see looks upon you,” I tell him gently. I fear a feather landing on him would send him to the floor.
He falls to the end of the bed. The thick mattress compresses under his massive body. I sit down beside him. We both stare at our feet. I sniffle occasionally.
“Orion, she has loved you for quite some time. Do you not recall her saying she had watched you before meeting you? I know her -- she is smitten.”
“But she knows I am your lover,” he mutters. I sit straighter and glance over at him.
“Yes, she does.” I reach over to take the hands hanging like dead fish over his knees in mine. “And that I cannot abide. You are mine. I will not share you with anyone. I will not allow her infatuation with you to grow. I should have been firmer about it before this, but I worried about leaving you here sickly and alone.”
“You do not need worry for me,” he says, bristling at the jab at his masculinity. I squeeze his hands.
“Orion, you are still pale. Even if you were returned to robust health, I would worry when you were gone from my side,” I tell him, lifting his hands to my lips. I kiss each scarred knuckle. His jade eyes rise from his feet to meet mine. “Look upon our hands,” I say, rolling his over then showing him mine. “I have no scars upon me. You do.” I press my lips against a raised white welt that runs across the back of his right hand. “You are only half god. Your blood is not gold, it is red. Death will come for you and take you from me. This is unavoidable. So I worry. I will worry each time I cannot place my sight upon you. It is not a slur against your manhood or virility, it is simply the knowledge that I cannot die and you can. I would postpone your demise as long as I possibly can.”
“Your tongue is gilded and golden, Apollo,” he smiles weakly. “How does a man talk a man who just hit him in the face from his anger? How do you make me long for nothing aside from being in your arms?”
“I am the god of poetry and rhyme, my love,” I counter seeing his gaze shift from my mouth to my amber eyes. I nod.
He leans in to capture my mouth. We fall back onto the bed, our mouths moving over each other’s slowly. We lay side by side, kissing, exploring, touching and cupping, stroking and teasing. We strip each other slowly, kissing each exposure of flesh.