To
Love a Wildcat Boxed Set
To Love a Wildcat Books 1-6
V.L. Locey
Erotic Hockey Romance
PUBLISHER
– Gone Writing Publishing
COVER
ARTIST – Reverie Design & Formatting
With more than 100 five-star reviews combined,
now is the time to fall in love with the Philadelphia Wildcats! In this
six-book set you'll get to experience all the passion, humor, and hockey action
that reviewers have called "Funny, Sexy, Savvy, Smart Sports Romance"
and "Love stories of real people".
"This
is such an amazing series. The dialogue flows easily, the descriptions are
outstanding, and the characters are written in such realism that, like I said
above, you feel like they are family." - 5 star Goodreads review.
Readers should be 18 and over due to mature situations and language.
The set includes:
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)
Language of Love (Book
Five of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
Final Shifts
(Book Six of the To Love a Wildcat Series)
From Pink Pucks
& Power Plays - To Love a Wildcat #1
I left the flakes on
the floor to answer my door. Vacuuming up fish flakes would have been much more
settling for my nerves. Alain Lessard stood on my welcome mat looking like a
million and half bucks. The man was working the casual chic look for all it was
worth. His jacket was black and clearly YSL. He had tossed the sharp, black
jacket over a crisp, white, button-down shirt. The sleeves and neck were
unbuttoned. He wore black khakis, softly buffed black, leather boots, and a
flash of a gold watch on his left wrist. His hair was damp, his cheeks freshly
shaved, and his smile dazzling.
“I am not too late,
am I?” he asked when I stood in the doorway like a buffoon. I gently shook my
head and moved aside. “Bon!” He hesitated as if unsure until I waved him in.
Perhaps my lack of speech was throwing him off. My brain came up with something
and then he passed by me, close enough to scrub his arm across my left breast.
My nipple stiffened instantly. His cologne was alluring and dark. I inhaled the
manly aroma deeply. I adore a man who knows what kind of scent to wear and how
much. Closing the door gently, I gathered my scattered wits, blew away the
thick mist of desire with a long exhalation through pursed lips then spun
around to face my date. He was standing in the middle of my living room,
smiling widely as he peered into my kitchen.
“If you’re looking
for dinner, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. Someone told me we were going
out tonight?” I walked to the sofa to pick up the black shawl I had
chosen.
“I have
never seen such a purple kitchen. It is very you, Viviana,” Alain said, coming
over to lift the dainty bit of shimmering material from my fingers. I turned.
He draped, making sure that the back of his fingers skimmed both sides of my
neck. Something hot began to uncurl like a cat waking from a nap deep within
me. “And yes,” he whispered beside my ear, “We have reservations that we will
miss if I do not step away from you and stop admiring your lovely perfume. It
is some sort of tropical flower, yes?”
“Yes,” I
responded as his warm breath tickled my ear. “It’s called Plumeria Blossom and
it’s imported from Hawaii.”
“It’s
very pretty. Have you ever been to Hawaii?” he asked, stepping away from me,
sadly. His warmth back there was rather nice.
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,
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.
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