Thor meets Tony Hawk in this comedic, low-angst/high spice MM romance about a serious hockey goalie who is drawn out of his shell by a bratty skateboarder, a dare involving cake, and a lesson in how to use joysticks-for video games of course.
Bad Pucking Influence
Colorado Bulldogsย #2
by Michele Lenard
Blurb:
On the surface, Iโve got it all. Iโm the starting goalie and Captain of the Colorado Bulldogs hockey team. Iโve got more money than I know what to do with. I can count an entire team of elite athletes as my friends. And according to the pundits, Iโm an eligible bachelor.
That’s the image everyone sees, but itโs just a role I play. A part dictated by my career. I have to be just as perfect off the ice as I am on it since everything I do reflects on my team in some way or another. So, those questions I have about why I donโt crave sexual contact the way my teammates doโquestions Iโm afraid to ask with the world watchingโฆ I decided a long time ago it didnโt make sense to look for answers until after I retire.
Then I ran into him.
Tripp is loud, obnoxious, and full of confidence. Some people find his sass off-putting, but not me. I find it intriguing, and I admire his ability to be himself, consequences be damned. Apparently, I also admire the way he looks, since my eyes seem to linger on him longer than they should, and when he sets his sights on meโฆ
Waiting for retirement to explore who I am seems like too big a sacrifice, so when Tripp offers to help me answer some of those questions about myself, I jump.
I’m tired of pretending to be Mr. Perfectโฆ Tripp and his playboy antics might be just the thing I need to figure out who I am outside of hockey. The only problem is, everyoneโincluding our mutual friendsโsee him as a bad pucking influence.
Bad Pucking Influence is a low-angst, high-spice MM romance featuring a hockey player and a brat, not a hockey book featuring a romance. Fans of bratty playboys and gentle giants will enjoy this light-hearted, steamy yet touching love story.
Since I first saw Tripp at a team barbeque Xander dragged him to last summer, Iโve found myself noticing him more and more. In my defense, itโs hard not to. Standing at six feet, with perfectly mussed bleached-blond hair and dark stubble thatโs hard to miss since the contrast is so stark, itโs the mischievous tilt of his lips that really captures my attention. I often find myself wondering whatโs going on in his mind, particularly since heโs a professional at giving people the shock-and-awe treatment. His antics amuse me more than they should, even when they involve silly excuses to measure my biceps with his hands.
Between his loud looks and even louder personality, he doesnโt exactly fade into the background, and if Iโm being honest, I find his brash nature freeing. I sort of like that heโs become a bit of a regular fixture in our social circle. Whatโs confusing to me is that itโs not just his personality that catches my attention. His appearance fascinates me, especially now, with him skating around shirtless.
Tall and lean, every muscle is on display, showing off a smattering of tattoos that would otherwise be hidden. Theyโre kind of mesmerizing to watch as they ripple under his skin. So is the youthful gleam in his eye. Itโs not arousing exactly, but itโs something. Something Iโve yet to put a label on, but I only seem to experience it around him. Which might mean sitting here watching him is a bad idea, at least until I sort out some of my confusion.
If only I could look away.
*****
Review:
I liked the characters – Noah is a big, ol’ teddy bear and Tripp is as in-your-face as you can get – but there’s definitely something more lurking beneath the surface of both. We get an understanding of Noah’s pretty early on, and Tripp is definitely all in for helping him explore his sexuality, which means he also brings his own baggage into their situation. There’s a reason he’s not willing to get involved with people and it takes a while to share it with us. I don’t know that everyone is willing to put in the time needed to go from casual sex to Tripp opening up & spilling all his secrets but I found it a satisfying resolution to their relationship.
While it isn’t necessary to have read the first book, Bad Pucking Timing, I do think it will help with how quickly Noah and Tripp fall into a sexual relationship together. It also gives a better look at the fun, & supportive, side of Tripp and how he & Noah have gotten to this point. While the beginning is oh-so-steamy, I think that foundation may be needed so that Tripp’s bratty side is better understood and to help readers get through the slower transition of their relationship.
*****
Author Info:
Michele is a tomboy who writes contemporary romance (usually sports themed) that is both sweet and steamy. Her goal is to make you fan your face as you wipe a tear from your eye. Her books are part of a series but there are no cliffhangers so each can be read as a standalone. When she isn’t reading or writing she enjoys the outdoors, something that pops up in her books from time to time.
Sheโs not here to make friends. Sheโs here to make trouble.
With her piercings, tattoos and spiky blond hair, Ellen Truesdale doesnโt quite fit in with the other folks in Coyote Canyonโand thatโs just fine with her. Sheโs only here to put her father out of business, as payback for abandoning her when she was young.
Or is she more interested in finally proving that she was worth keeping?
Either way, sheโs struggling to keep her rival well-drilling company afloat. And being a single woman in a male-dominated field has started to take a toll. So when Hendrix Durrant steps in to help, Ellen has no choice but to let himโeven though he happens to be her fatherโs business partner and therefore her enemy. But the closer she works with him, the more she sees what sheโs been missingโฆin life and love. And once she lets go of her anger long enough to learn the truth about her past, she might just find the family sheโs always wanted.
Hendrix Durrant eyed his longtime neighbor, speaking with a hard-edged frustration he didnโt bother to conceal. โYouโre hiring Ellen? Really, Jay? Youโve been talking to me about getting this well dug for the past eight months. Youโve had me meet you out here two or three times for details on where to drill, how deep to go, what size pump youโll need to get enough water, what weโll do if we encounter sand, and on and on. And now youโre going with my competitor?โ
Jay Haslem, a forty-something mechanic who was finally getting the chance to build a nicer home outside the small town of Coyote Canyon, Montana, where Hendrix had lived since he was eleven and Jay had lived his whole life, shoved his hands in the pockets of his grease-stained overalls and stared down at the dirt. โWell, sheโs not really your competitor, is she?โ
Hendrix rested his hands on his hips. โShe does the same thing I do, but her business is completely separate from mine. Wouldnโt you call that competition?โ
โYeah, butโฆsheโs Stuartโs daughter. And heโs married to your aunt Lynn. I know youโre not related, but youโre sort ofโฆconnected, right?โ He offered Hendrix a weak grin, which Hendrix immediately wiped from his face with a heated retort.
โNot only are we not related, I barely know her and hate that she moved to town two and a half years ago, because ever since then, sheโs made a concerted effort to become a major pain in my ass.โ
โItโs just thatโฆher dadโs married to your aunt,โ Jay said again.
Lynn had raised Hendrix from the first year she married Stuart, after his mother died of breast cancer. Everyone knew heโd been taken in out of the goodness of her heart, that he wouldโve gone into the foster care system otherwise. It wasnโt as if he had a father, like most other kids. His mother, Angie, whoโd lived and worked as a venture capital analyst in San Francisco, where attitudes were more liberal in general, had been so determined to have a child on her own terms sheโd used a sperm bank, never imagining what might happen to him if she wasnโt around. That meant, once she was gone, heโd been lucky to have extended family who would give him a home. โI donโt care. That doesnโt change anything.โ
Jay winced as he pulled on his beard. โMy wife likes her, Hendrix. Theaโs the one who promised her the job. Not me. Ellenโs a tough little thing, a go-getter. Weโฆ I donโt know, we admire that kind of gumption, I guess. After all, there arenโt many women in your field.โ
Jayโs, either. Not too many female mechanics aroundโฆ But Hendrix was too focused on other things to point that out. โYou admire her gumption,โ he echoed, chuckling humorlessly. โYouโre giving her the job because sheโsโโ he used air quotes โโa tough little thing.โ
Once again, Jay shifted uncomfortably. โThat andโฆsheโs saving us a few bucks, of course.โ
โOf course,โ Hendrix echoed flatly. Ellen had been undercutting him and Stuart since she moved to town. โHow much is a few bucks?โ
โShe saidโโ He stopped and cleared his throat before finishing in a mumble, โShe said sheโd do it for a thousand less than whatever you bid.โ
โExcuse me?โ Hendrix had heard him fine, but he wanted to make his neighbor state, clearly, the reason heโd chosen Ellen. This wasnโt about supporting a female-owned company in a largely male-dominated field, as Jay had tried to claim a few minutes ago. This was nothing more than pure self-interest. Ellen had been working day and night since she moved to Coyote Canyon, just to best him and Stuart, her father. Hendrix knew that was true because, in some cases, she wasโhad to beโdrilling wells and replacing and repairing pumps for next to no profit, other than the pleasure of taking jobs that would otherwise have gone to them.
โShe said she didnโt have the time to come out and bid, but sheโd do it for a thousand less than what you said youโd do it for,โ Jay repeated. โAll we had to do was give her the paperwork you left with us.โ
โYou handed over my bid? Now she can order the supplies and get you on her schedule without spending any of the time Iโve invested in assessing your needs.โ
Jay hung his head. โIโm sorry. You know I donโt have a lot of money. Thea and I have held on to this property for several years, hoping to save enough to start improving it, orโฆor I wouldโve gone with you no matter what.โ
Drawing a deep breath, which he immediately blew out, Hendrix stared over Jayโs shoulder at the rugged Montana terrain that constituted his neighborโs five-acre dream parcel. Ever since Ellen Truesdale came to town, heโd made a point of avoiding her. If he ran into her by accidentโin a population of only three thousand it was impossible not to encounter each other every once in a whileโhe nodded politely, so she wouldnโt know how much it bothered him to have her around. But she never responded. She just gave him that unflinching, steely-eyed gaze of hers that let him know she was gunning for him.
Despite that, heโd remained determined not to let her get to him. But as time wore on, and she stole more business from him and Stuart, she was harder and harder to ignore.
Why couldnโt she have sold the place her grandparents had given her here in town and remained in Anaconda, where sheโd been born and raised? Anaconda was twice the size of Coyote Canyon; there had to be more people in that part of the state who were looking to drill a water well. Actually, he knew that to be true because he and Stuart occasionally drilled a well or helped with a pump out that wayโFetterman Well Services ranged over the whole state and even went into Utah and Nevada. And if Ellen had stayed in Anaconda, which was almost two hours from Coyote Canyon, their paths would most likely never have crossed.
But Hendrix knew her decision had very little to do with where she could make the most moneyโor even where she might be happiest. She had a vendetta against her father, whoโd left her mother when Ellen was only ten to marry Hendrixโs aunt, and she was determined to make him pay for walking out on them. Hendrix and his cousin, Leo, whom he considered as close as a brother, were just the visible representation of all she resented.
โNo problem,โ he told his neighbor as he started back to his truck. โHereโs hoping she does a decent job for you.โ
โAre you saying she might not?โ Jay called after him, sounding alarmed.
Hendrix didnโt acknowledge the question, let alone answer it. Undermining Jayโs trust in Ellen was a cheap shotโbeneath him, really. Ellen knew what she was doing. In many ways, she ran her business better than Stuart ran the one Hendrix had helped him build since he was brought from San Francisco. She didnโt have the resources or the experience they did, but she was a quick study. From what heโd heard, she was also detail-orientedโstayed right on top of everythingโand since Fetterman had two crews consisting of three employees each, and covered a much bigger area, he had no doubt she was operating with far less overhead, so she could be nimble.
Although Stuart insisted they didnโt have anything to worry about when it came to Ellenโthat sheโd give up trying to get back at him and eventually move onโHendrix was beginning to realize that wasnโt true. Stuart was just avoiding the problem because he felt guilty about the past. And the more he avoided it, the worse it got.
When Ellen Truesdale heard a vehicle pull up, she assumed it was Ben Anderson, her only employee. Sheโd finally sent him out to grab some lunch. Since breakfast early this morning, theyโd been too busy to eat, and she was starving. He had to be, too; it was almost three. At twenty-one, he seemed to consume twice his body weight in food each day. But when she finished welding the steel casing they were putting down the well and flipped up her helmet, she saw that it wasnโt Ben. Hendrix Durrant had just parked next to her older and much less expensive pickup.
Since Hendrix hadnโt actually spoken to her since she came to town, she was more than a little surprised heโd driven out to her jobsite. That meant he was here with a very specific intention.
Setting her torch aside, she removed her helmet entirely and shoved up the long sleeves of her shirt. She had no idea what he wanted, but whatever it wasโฆshe couldnโt imagine she was going to like it.
Instead of approaching her right away, he slipped his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans and studied her GEFCO rotary drilling rig. Maybe heโd assumed she couldnโt afford a top-head drive, which enabled her to advance the casing that blocked off the sand and gravel as she drilled, and was shocked to see it. She could understand why that might be true. A rig like hers cost almost a million dollars, and sheโd never had the luxury of being able to ride on her fatherโs coattails. If she hadnโt been able to take out a loan against the house and property her paternal grandparents had passed on to her, she wouldnโt have had the down payment necessary to purchase it. And if sheโd had to settle for an older rig, it wouldโve made her job much more difficult.
As it was, her payments were almost ten thousand a month, and that didnโt include the water truck sheโd also had to buy. Fortunately, it wasnโt nearly as expensive as the rig. Sheโd managed to find a used one in Moab, Utah, for only fifty thousand. But it all added up. She had a lot on the line, which was why she worked so damn hard.
โIs there something I can do for you?โ she asked, tensing in spite of all the self-talk that insisted there was no reason to be nervous. She didnโt care if she had a confrontation with her father and those connected to him. Sheโd been spoiling for a fight with them almost as far back as she could remember. Except for Leo, of course. Leo was harmless. Everyone knew that.
Hendrix turned to face her. She hadnโt moved toward him, hadnโt closed one inch of the gap between them. If he wanted to speak to her, he was going to have to cross that distance himselfโwhich he did, reluctantly from what she could tell.
โYouโve been in town for two and a half years now,โ he said.
She wiped the sweat from her face before giving him a smirk. โI didnโt realize youโd been counting.โ
His eyebrows slid up. โIโve only been counting because youโve been doing everything you possibly can to make me notice youโand now I have.โ
She barked a laugh. โAm I supposed to be excited about that?โ She had to admit most women would be. With sandy-blond hair, smooth golden skin and wide, sky blue eyes, he reminded her of Brad Pitt in Troyโmostly because of the structure of his face but also his build. She couldnโt claim he was hard to look at.
โI was hoping to convince you to come over and talk to your father,โ he said. โScream and yell, say whatever you want, but quit trying to punish him by ruining our business.โ
She removed her leather gloves and slapped them against her thigh, which made him take a step back to avoid breathing in the resulting cloud of dust. โI have nothing to say to my father.โ
โObviously you do, or you wouldnโt be living here.โ
โIn case youโre not aware of it, my grandparents gave me their house, and it happens to be here. I guess you didnโt quite manage to replace me in their affections.โ
โI didnโt try to replace you at all. Iโm sorry if you feel I did. But just so you know, your grandpa and grandma Fetterman have been good to me, too.โ
She shrugged off his words. โOnly because theyโre nice to everyone.โ
โMaybe so, but just because you got their house doesnโt mean you have to live in it. You could sell if you wanted toโฆโ
โThatโs the thing.โ It took effort, but she brightened her smile for his benefit. โI like it here.โ
โCome on,โ he said. โBe honest. Youโre only staying because you think it bugs your father.โ
โThatโs not all,โ she said with a taunting grin. โIโm staying because it bugs you, too.โ
โAnd that makes you happy?โ
โHappier,โ she clarified.
He shook his head. โThereโs something wrong with you. Whatโre you trying to do? Prove you can build the same business weโve built on your own?โ
โAnd do it even better,โ she said with apparent satisfaction. That had been her goal for a long time, ever since sheโd finished college at Montana State with a degree in business and returned to Anaconda to help her mother make ends meet. After seeing her father become successful drilling water wells, sheโd decided to do the same thing. She knew she didnโt want to get stuck waiting tables forever, and Anaconda didnโt offer a great deal of opportunity.
But it hadnโt been easy to get started. If she hadnโt managed to convince Ross Moore, a successful driller in Anaconda, to hire her, she wouldnโt have had the chance. But sheโd needed only two years of experience, drilling fifteen wells under a licensed contractor, in order to get her own license. So Ross had eventually agreedโjust to be a nice guy, she thoughtโand wound up being so happy with her work heโd kept her as his business expanded until her grandparents gave her their house in Coyote Canyon two and a half years ago, and she decided to go out on her own.
Hendrixโs eyes narrowed. โIโve been pleasant so far, havenโt lifted a finger to stop you. I donโt want toโโ he spread out his hands โโdo anything that would harm you, even financially.โ
โIf there was anything you could do to me financially, you wouldโve done it already,โ she pointed out, which only seemed to enrage him further.
โOur companyโs bigger than yours,โ he said with a hard set to his jaw.
Our company. She was Stuartโs daughter. Hendrix was only his second wifeโs nephew. He stood to take over the business when Stuart died, since Leo wasnโt capable, but he wasnโt even considered a true partner at this point. As she understood it, he was only on salary. And yet, when Hendrix lost his mother to breast cancer, her father had not only allowed Lynn to take him into their home, heโd chosen Hendrix over her in every regard. No doubt Stuart assumed Hendrix was stronger and more capable than she was, but she was bound and determined to prove heโd significantly underestimated her abilities. โThatโs obvious.โ She gave him the once-over. โBut bigger isnโt always better.โ
He stepped closer, too close for comfort, which was probably his intent, and glared down his nose at her. โIt is in this case. Donโt make me put you out of business.โ
He turned on his heel to stalk back to his truck, but she called after him. โYou couldnโt put me out of business if you tried!โ
He stopped before opening his door. โWe have deeper pockets than you do, Ellen. We can play the price game, too. What if I were to go around to all your jobs and offer to drill cheaper? Youโre saying I couldnโt steal your next six months of work from you?โ
โYouโll be taking a heavy loss if you do!โ
He studied her for several seconds. โIโm beginning to think it would be worth it.โ
The size of her monthly billsโthe payment she had to make on her rig aloneโsent a tremor of foreboding through her. She couldnโt withstand a full-on battle with her father and Hendrix. Not one that went on for very long, at least. She needed to back off. But she couldnโt. โYou donโt scare me!โ she yelled. โIโll take you on. Iโll take on both you sons of bitches!โ
His tires spun dirt and gravel as he backed up and nearly hit Ben, who was just coming back in his Jeep.
Ben slammed on his brakes in the nick of time and waited for Hendrix to swerve around him. Then he got out, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and walked over to where Ellen stood at the rig. โThat was Hendrix Durrant, wasnโt it?โ he said. โI told you he wouldnโt like what weโve been doing. He confronted you about it, didnโt he? Whatโd he say?โ
โNothing,โ she retorted. She couldnโt bring herself to admit that the resentment driving her might have caused her to sign the death warrant on her fledgling businessโthe only thing that was currently keeping a roof over both their heads.
Damn her! Whatโs wrong with her? Hendrix fumed as he drove, probably a little too recklessly, to Lynn and Stuartโs. At thirty-one, he no longer lived with them, but his house wasnโt far away, and he was at their place a lot to see his cousin, Leo, who had Down Syndrome. The office for the drilling business was in one section of the barn, too, and most of their drilling equipment was parked on the property.
Leo was in the wide front yard wearing a snowsuitโeven though it was the end of March and edging toward spring and there were only little patches of white in the shadowsโplaying with his dog, Zeus. He lit up like a Christmas tree the second he saw Hendrix turn in, and came running to the truck.
โHi, Hendrix!โ he said, waving enthusiastically as Hendrix got out. โI been waitinโ for ya. I knew youโd come!โ
Because Hendrix came almost every day. He typically brought Leo a donut or other treat, and he wouldโve again today, except Lynn had told him he had to stop. Leo was gaining too much weight. It was hard for Hendrix to disappoint him, but he had no other choice. โI know youโre probably hoping Iโve got a donut for you, bud, but I couldnโt get over there in time to buy one. Iโm sorry.โ
Leoโs shoulders slumped, and the corners of his mouth turned down, which made Hendrix feel terrible. But in typical Leo style, he perked up right away. โThatโs okay, Hendrix,โ he said as they started to walk, with Zeus, toward the office. โYouโll bring me one tomorrow, right? I like the chocolate with sprinkles. Itโs my favorite. I bet thatโs the one youโll buy me. Youโll bring me the chocolate one tomorrow, wonโt you, Hendrix?โ
Hendrix eyed his thickening middle and offered to take him on a walk instead, but Leo was having none of it.
โAfter I eat my donut?โ he asked.
โYeah, after you eat your donut,โ Hendrix said, finally relenting. He couldnโt refuse, despite Leoโs weight.
Heโd just have to take Leo somewhere else to eat it so Lynn wouldnโt catch them. He hated to contribute to the problem when sheโd asked him not to, but he couldnโt deny his cousin the few simple pleasures he enjoyed so much. Maybe the walk after would zero it out.
โThank you, Hendrix. I canโt wait!โ He rubbed his hands in anticipation as they reached the office. โWhat are you doing today?โ he asked before Hendrix could open the door. โAre you drilling another well? Can I get my steel-toed boots and my hard hat and go with you?โ
It was Friday, Hendrixโs day for picking up parts, fixing broken equipment, giving estimates and helping catch up on any paperwork Lynn was holding back because of questions she had. She helped in the office while they did the drilling, but she must be in the house or getting her hair done or something else today, because Hendrix didnโt see her when he swung open the door. โFor the next little while, Iโm mostly hanging out here with Stuart, okay, bud?โ he said. โBut if I have to run an errand or two, you can come along.โ
Leo smiled widelyโsomething he did almost all the time. โMaybe we could buy a candy bar while weโre out!โ
โNo treats, Leo,โ he said. โThey arenโt good for you, remember?โ
Leoโs shoulders rounded again, until he thought of the donut. โBut youโll bring me a donut tomorrow?โ
Hendrix barely refrained from groaning. Heโd never known anyone with such a sweet tooth. Leo was at him for candy, soda and other junk food all the time. โYes,โ Hendrix told him. โI said I would.โ
โI love you, Hendrix,โ he said. โYouโre the best!โ
It was hard to remain angry about anything in the face of his childlike exuberance. โI love you, too,โ Hendrix said with a chuckle.
But when he walked into the office and Stuart glanced up, he remembered why heโd come skidding into the driveway of their house in the first place.
โYou need to do something about Ellen,โ he said bluntly.
โEllen Truesdale?โ Leo piped up before Stuart, who was sitting at his desk, could respond.
Hendrix wasnโt surprised Leo knew who Ellen was. With her bleached blond hair, cut in a short, jagged style, nose ring and ear piercings, together with the tattoo sleeve that covered one arm, she stood out in the ultraconservative community in which heโd been raised. Not only had she been a hot topic around town, sheโd come up in plenty of conversations between Stuart and Lynn.
Hendrix was surprised, however, that Leo remembered her last name. It wasnโt as if they knew any other Truesdales. As soon as sheโd turned eighteen, Ellen had legally changed her last name to her motherโs maiden nameโanother of her many attempts to get back at Stuart. Leoโs father had been an alcoholic whoโd raised and sold hunting dogsโbefore he shot himself when Lynn left him. Stuart adopted Leo when he and Lynn married three years later, so Leo went by Fetterman. And since Hendrixโs father was found in a tube of sperm cells in a lab somewhere, heโd retained his motherโs last name and went by Durrant.
โYes, Ellen Truesdale,โ Hendrix told him.
Stuart sighed as he rocked back in his chair. โWhatโs she done this time?โ
โTook the Haslem job from us.โ
His father looked startled. โI thought we had that one in the bag. Isnโt Jay your neighbor?โ
About four years ago, Hendrix had bought a small, two-bedroom, two-bath, log-cabin-style home on a couple of acres about five minutes away. Jay lived in the mobile home next doorโuntil he could move to his other property, anyway. โYeah, well, I guess loyalty doesnโt count for much when moneyโs involved.โ
โShe undercut us again?โ
โWordโs getting around that sheโll beat any price we give. At least, thatโs what Iโm guessing. All Jay told me was that he was hiring her because it would save him some money.โ
The beard growth on Stuartโs chin rasped as he rubbed it. โDrillinโs hard work. I canโt believe sheโd do it that cheaplyโand that sheโs actually doing a decent job. Sheโs only about five foot four, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet.โ
โYou know she has Ben Anderson to help her, right? She hired him right out of high school when she first got here.โ
โI know sheโs got Ben, but it has to be difficult for her even with a hired hand.โ
Hearing the grudging admiration in his voice made Hendrixโs hackles rise again. โSheโs trying to damage our business. You realize that.โ
โSheโs not going to damage it for long,โ Stuart said dismissively. โIโve been drillinโ wells and servicing pumps for forty years. Weโll reach a new equilibrium sooner or later.โ
โIโm not so sure,โ Hendrix argued. โCanโt you meet with her? Have a discussion? Folks talk, especially in a small town like this. If word has it that sheโs the cheapest around, and sheโs a good drillerโฆโ He shook his head. โItโs been two and a half years since she moved here. Sheโs only getting a firmer foothold as the days go by.โ
โWhat do you want me to say to her?โ his uncle asked. โSheโs not doing anything wrong.โ
โPurposely targeting our business isnโt doing anything wrong?โ
โItโs a free market,โ he said with a shrug. โThereโs nothinโ to say another driller canโt move in here and compete with us. Whether itโs her or someone elseโฆโ
โIโll talk to Ellen!โ Leo volunteered. โSheโs so pretty. And such a little thing. I bet I could pick her up.โ
โOh, Iโd never hurt her,โ Leo hurried to reassure him.
Hendrix knew heโd never hurt her intentionally. Leo would never hurt anyone intentionally. But he was a big man, and he didnโt know his own strength. Sometimes he reminded Hendrix of Lennie in Of Mice and Men, not least because he himself identified with George Milton in the role of Leoโs protector. During his teens, heโd been in more fights than he could remember trying to defend Leo from the bullies whoโd tease and make fun of him. โI know you wouldnโt, bud. You just have to remember not to touch her, okay? Ever.โ
โOkay,โ Leo said dutifully.
โSo will you talk to her?โ Hendrix asked, turning back to Stuart.
Stuart blanched. โI donโt know what to say to her,โ he admitted. โI meanโฆwhat can I say? I didnโt do right by her, and thereโs no changing that now.โ
โThen apologize,โ Hendrix said, โbefore she makes me lose my mind.โ
Stuart stared at the paperwork on his desk for several seconds before finallyโand grudginglyโrelenting. โIf I get the opportunity, Iโll see what I can do.โ
โLet me give you the opportunity,โ he said. โSheโs drilling the Slemboskis a well right now. Should be there another day, at least. Maybe longer.โ
His uncleโs jaw had dropped as soon as he heard the name. โThe Slemboskis went with her, too? Slim Slemboskiโs on my bowling team!โ
Hendrix threw up his hands. โSee what I mean?โ
Stuart winced as he went back to rubbing his jaw. โO-kay,โ he said on a downbeat, as if agreeing to talk to Ellen was tantamount to walking the plank. โIโll go over there tomorrow, see what I can do.โ
Excerpted from The Talk of Coyote Canyon by Brenda Novak. Copyright ยฉ 2023 by Breda Novak, Inc. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
*****
Author Info:
Brenda Novak, a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author, has penned over sixty novels. She is a five-time nominee for the RITA Award and has won the National Reader’s Choice, the Bookseller’s Best, the Bookbuyer’s Best, and many other awards. She also runs Brenda Novak for the Cure, a charity to raise money for diabetes research (her youngest son has this disease). To date, sheโs raised $2.5 million. For more about Brenda, please visit http://www.brendanovak.com.ย
Heโs Emerald Creekโs hottest cowboyโand the one man she shouldnโt want
On the surface, Egan Donnelly is hometown hero materialโtop gun, commanding an elite fighter training squadron and ranching royalty. Inside, he feels like a fraud, convinced heโs responsible for his best friendโs death. At least he won’t let himself succumb to the heat between him and Jackโs widow, Alana. Yet. Now that sheโs making regular trips to his ranch to care for his dad, that vow is getting harder to keep.
Alana Davidson isnโt just grieving her husbandโs loss, sheโs feeling betrayed over his secret infidelity. Wanting Egan makes things even more complicated. As a nutritionist, she can help Eganโs dad recover from his health scare, but itโs not so easy to get her own heart back on track. Because despite shared guilt and family pressure, sheโs falling fast, and Egan is right there with herโฆ
That whole deal about bad news coming in threes? Well, it was a crock. Lieutenant Colonel Egan Don- nelly now had proof of it.
First, thereโd been the unexpected visitor, AKA the messenger, whoโd started the whole bad-news ball rolling. Thatโd teach him to open his frickinโ door before heโd even finished his frickinโ coffee.
Then, there was the so-called celebration that would stir up the worst of his past and serve it up to him on a silver platter. Or rather on a disposable paper plate, anyway.
Then, a letter from his ex, which he figured was never a good sign. Who the heck actually wanted to hear from their cheating ex? Not him, that was for sure.
Those were the three thingsโcount them: one, two, threeโthat was supposed to have been the final tally of bad crap even if for only a day, but apparently the creator of that old saying had no credibility what- soever. Then again, Egan had known firsthand that bad news didnโt have limited quantities.
Or expiration dates.
Now he was faced with ironclad confirmation that
those other three things were piddly-ass drops in the proverbial bucket compared to bad-news number four.
And now, everything in his world was crashing and burning.
Again.
Thirty Minutes Earlier
In the dream, Lieutenant Colonel Egan Donnelly saved his best friendโs life. In the dream, the explosion didnโt happen. It didnโt blast through the scorched, airless night. Didnโt tear apart the transport vehicle.
Didnโt leave blood on the bleached sand.
Didnโt kill.
In the dream, Egan was the hero that so many people proclaimed he was. He made just the right decisions to save everyone, including Jack. Especially Jack.
Egan didnโt fight tooth and nail to come out of this dreamโunlike the ones that were basically a blow-by-blow account of what had actually happened that god-awful night nearly three years ago. Those dreams were pits of the darkest level of hell where everything spun and bashed, stomping him down deeper and deeper into the real nightmare. Those dreams he fought.
Had to.
Because Egan had learned the hard way if he let those dreams play out, then it was a damn hard struggle to come back from them. Heck, he was still trying to come back from them.
Despite wanting to linger in this particular dream
where he got to play hero, it didnโt happen, thanks to his phone dinging with a text. He frowned, noticing that it was barely six in the morning. Texts at this hour usually were not good. Considering that all three of his siblings were on active duty, not good could be really bad.
He saw his fatherโs name on the screen, and the worry instantly tightened Eganโs gut. His dad had just turned sixty so while he wasnโt in the โone foot in the graveโ stage, he wasnโt the proverbial spring chicken, either. Added to that, his dad still ran the day-to-day operation of Saddlebrook, the familyโs ranch in Emerald Creek, Texas. The ranch thatโd been in the Donnelly family for over a hundred years and had grown and grown and grown with each succeeding generation. All that growth required hours of upkeep and work.
Found this when I was going through some old photo albums, his dad had texted.
What the heck? That gut tightness eased up, some, when Egan saw it was a slightly off-center image taken in front of the main barn on the ranch. His dad had obviously used his phone to take a picture of the old photo. Emphasis on old.
It was a shot that his grandmother, Effie, had snapped thirty years ago on Eganโs eighth birthday. His brother, Cal, would have been six. His sister, Remi, a two-year-old toddler, and his other brother, Blue, was just four. Stairsteps, people called them, since theyโd all been born just two years apart.
In the photo, his dad, looking lean, fit and young,
was in the center, flanked by Egan and Remi on the right, and Cal and Blue on the left. Remi and Blue were both grinning big toothy grins. Cal and Egan werenโt. Probably because theyโd been old enough to understand that life as theyโd known it was over.
Their lives hadnโt exactly gone to hell in a handbasket, but this particular shot had been taken only a couple of weeks after their mother had died from cancer. A long agonizing death that had left their dad the widower of four young kids. Still, his dad was eking out a smile in the picture, and heโd managed to gather all four of them in his outstretched arms.
Bittersweet times.
Thatโs when their momโs mom, Grammy Effie, had come to Saddlebrook for what was supposed to have been a couple of months, until his dad got his footing. Effie was still living on the ranch thirty years later and had obviously put down roots as deep as his fatherโs.
Egan was wondering what had prompted his dad to go digging through old family albums when his phone dinged again. It was another text from his dad, another photo. It was an image that Egan also knew well, and he mentally referred to it as the start of phase two of his life.
The first phase had been with a loving mother that sadly he now couldnโt even remember. That had ended with her death. Phase two had begun when his dad had gotten remarried four years later to a young fresh-faced Captain Audrey Granger, whoโd then been stationed at the very base in San Antonio
where Egan was now. It was an hourโs commute to the ranch that Audrey had diligently made.
For a while, anyway.
In this shot, his dad and new bride dressed in blue were in the center, and both were flashing giddy smiles. Ditto for Remi and Blue. Again, no smiles for Cal and Egan since theyโd been ten and twelve respectively and were no doubt holding back on the glee to see how life with their stepmom would all play out.
It hadnโt played out especially well.
But then, it also hadnโt hit anywhere near the โhell in a handbasketโ mark, either.
If thereโd been a family photo taken just two years later, though, Audrey probably wouldnโt have been in it. By then, sheโd been in Germany. Or maybe England. Instead of an hour commute, sheโd come โhomeโ to the ranch a couple of times a year. Then, as her career had blossomed, the visits had gotten further and further apart. These days, Brigadier General Audrey Donnelly only came home on Christmas. If that.
Egan sent his dad a thumbs-up emoji to let him know heโd seen the pictures, and he was considering an actual reply to ask if all was well, but his alarm went off. He got up, mentally going through his schedule for the day. As the commander of the Fighter Training Squadron at Randolph AFB, Texas, thereโd be the usual paperwork, going over some stats for the pilots in training, and then in the afternoon, heโd get to do one of the things he loved most.
Fly.
Of course, it would be under the guise of a training mission in the T-38C Talon jet, not the F-16 that Egan used to pilot, but it would still give him that hit of adrenaline. Still give him the reminder of why heโd first joined the Navy and then had transferred to the Air Force so he could continue to stay in the cockpit.
Egan showered, put on his flight suit, read through his emails on his phone and was about halfway through his first cup of coffee when his doorbell rang. He had the same reaction to it as he had the earlier text. A punch of dread that something was wrong. It wasnโt even seven oโclock yet and hardly the time for visitors. Especially since he lived in base housing and therefore wasnโt on the traditional beaten path for friends or family to just drop by.
Frowning, he went to the door. And Egan frowned some more when he looked through the peephole at the visitor on his porch. A woman with pulled back dark blond hair and vivid green eyes. At first glance, he thought it was his ex-wife, Colleen, someone he definitely didnโt want to see, but this was a slightly younger, taller version of the woman whoโd left him for another man.
Alana Davidson, Colleenโs sister.
โYes, I know itโs early,โ Alana sighed and said loud enough for him to hear while she looked directly at the peephole. โSorry about that.โ
Wondering what the heck this was all about, he opened the door and got an immediate blast of heat. Texas in June started out hot as hell and got even hotter. Today was apparently no exception. He also
got another immediate blast of concern because there was nothing about Alanaโs expression that indicated this was a social visit.
Then again, Alana and he never had social visits.
Never.
Just too much old baggage, old wounds and old everything else between them. Ironic, since sheโd been married to his best friend. Now, she was his dead best friendโs widow and bore that strong resemblance to his cheating ex-wife whoโd left him just days before Jackโs death.
Egan was no doubt an unwelcome sight for her, too. He was the man whoโd not only failed to keep her husband alive, but he was also the reason Jack had been in that transport vehicle in the first place.
So, yeah, old baggage galore.
โSorry,โ Alana repeated, looking up at him. Not looking at him for long, though. Like their avoidance of social visits, they didnโt do a lot of eye contact, either. โBut I have an appointment at the base hospital in an hour, and I wanted to catch you before you went into work.โ
โThe hospital?โ he automatically questioned.
She waved it off, clearly picking up on his concern that something might be medically wrong with her. โIโm consulting with a colleague on a chief master sergeant whoโs being medically retired and moving to Emerald Creek. Iโll be working with the chief to come up with some lifestyle changes.โ
Alana made that seem like her norm, and maybe it was. She was a dietitian, and because as Jackโs widow
she still had a military ID card so she wouldnโt have had any trouble getting onto the base. Added to that, Emerald Creek was a haven for retirees and veterans since it was so close to three large military installations. There were almost as many combat boots as cowboy boots in Emerald Creek.
โHowโd you know where I live?โ he asked.
โI got your address from your grandmother.โ She glanced over her shoulder at the street of houses. โI occasionally have consults here, but itโs the first time Iโve been to this part of the base.โ
Yeah, his particular house wasnโt near the hospital, commissary or base exchange store where Alana would be more apt to go. Added to that, Jack had never been stationed here, which meant Alana had never lived here, either.
โFull disclosure,โ she said the moment he shut the door. โYou arenโt going to like any of what I have to say.โ
Now it was Egan who sighed and braced himself for Alana to finally do something heโd expected her to do for three years. Scream and yell at him for allowing Jack to die. But there was no raised voice or obvious surge of anger. Instead, she took out a piece of paper from her sizeable handbag and thrust it at him.
โItโs a mock-up of a flyer that Jackโs mom intends to have printed up and sent to everyone in her known universe,โ Alana explained.
At first glance, he saw that the edges of the flyer had little pictures of barbecue grills, fireworks, the
American flag and military insignia. Egan intended to just scan it to get the gist of what it was about, but the scanning came to a stumbling slow crawl as he tried to take in what he was reading.
โJoin us for a Life Celebration for Major Jack Connor Davidson, July Fourth, at the Emerald Creek City Park. Itโll be an afternoon of food, festivities and remembrance as a celebratory memorial painting for Jack will be unveiled by our own Top Gun hometown hero, Lieutenant Colonel Egan Donnelly.โ
Well, hell. Both sentences were full-on gut punches and thick gobs of emotional baggage. Memorial. Life celebration. Remembrances. The icing on that gob was the last part.
Top Gun hometown hero.
Egan was, indeed, a former Top Gun. Heโd won the competition a dozen years ago when heโd been a navy lieutenant flying F-16s. The hometown part was accurate, too, since heโd been born and raised in Emerald Creek, but that hero was the biggest of big-assed lies.
โI canโt go,โ Egan heard himself say once heโd managed to clear the lump in his throat.
She nodded as if that were the exact answer sheโd expected. โIโm guessing youโll be on duty?โ
Heโd make damn sure he was, but wasnโt it ironic that the memorial celebration would fall on the one weekend of the month he usually went home to help his dad on the family ranch? Maybe Jackโs mom knew that, or maybe the woman just believed that such an event would be a good fit for the Fourth of July.
It wasnโt.
Barbecue, hot dogs, beer and such didnโt go well with the crapload of memories something like that would stir. He didnโt need a memorial or a life celebration to remember Jack. Egan remembered him daily, hourly even, and after three years, the grief and guilt hadnโt lost any steam.
โIโll let Tilly know you canโt be there,โ Alana said, referring to Jackโs mother. โSheโs mentioned contacting your stepmom to see if she could be there for the unveiling.โ
โGood luck with that,โ he muttered, and Alanaโs sound of agreement confirmed that she understood it was a long shot.
What would likely end up happening was that his brother Cal would get roped into doing the โhonors.โ Heโd known Jack, and Calโs need to do the right thing would have him stepping in.
โThe last time I ran into Tilly, she didnโt want to discuss anything involving Jackโs death,โ Egan recalled.
Alana nodded. โThatโs still true. Nothing about how he died, et cetera. She only wants to chat about the things he did when he was alive.โ
โSo, why do a memorial painting?โ Egan wanted to know.
โIโm not sure, but itโs possible the painting will be another life celebration deal that sheโll want hung in some prominent part of town like city hall or the library. In other words, maybe the painting will have nothing to do with Jack even being in the military.
Tilly was proud of him,โ she quickly added. โBut sheโs never fully wrapped her mind around losing him.โ
That made sense. The one time heโd tried to talk to her about Jackโs death, sheโd shut him down. As if not talking about his death would somehow breathe some life back into him.
โThereโs one more thing,โ Alana went on, and this time she took a pale yellow envelope from her purse and handed it to him. โItโs a letter from Colleen.โ
Egan had already reached for it but yanked back his hand as if the envelope were a coiled rattler ready to sink its fangs into his flesh. The mention of his ex-wife tended to do that. Memories of Colleen didnโt fall into the โhell on steroidsโ category like Jackโs. More like the โdonโt let the door hit your cheating assโ category. Colleen had obviously liked that direction just fine since she hadnโt spoken a word to him since the divorce.
He glanced at the envelope, scowled. โA letter? Is it some kind of twelve-step deal about making amends or something?โ he asked.
Alana shook her head. โNo, I think itโs a living will of sorts.โ
That erased his scowl. โIs Colleen dying?โ
โNot that I know of, but she apparently decided she wanted to make her last wishes known. She sent letters for me, our aunt and your dad. I have his if you want to give it to him.โ
Egan reached out again to stop her from retrieving it, and Alana used the opportunity to put the letter for him in his hand. โI donโt want this,โ he insisted.
โTotally understand. I read mine,โ she admitted. โAlong with spelling out her end-of-life wishesโcremation, no funeral, no headstoneโshe wants us to have some sister time, like a vacation or something.โ
Egan had no idea how much contact Alana and Colleen had with each other these days, but it was possible when Colleen had walked out on him, sheโd also walked out on Alana. He thought he detected some animosity in Alanaโs tone and expression.
He went straight to the trash can in the adjoining kitchen and tossed the envelope on top of the oozing heap of the sticky chicken rice bowl that had been at least a week past its prime when heโd dumped it the night before.
โIโm not interested in wife time with her,โ he muttered, knowing he sounded bitter and hating that he still was.
Unlike what he was still going through with Jack, though, his grief and anger with Colleen had trickled down to almost nothing. Almost. He now just considered her a mistake and was glad she was out of his life. Some days, he could even hope that she was happy with the Mr. Wonderful artist that sheโd left him for.
When he turned back to Alana, he saw she had watched the letter trashing, and she was now combing those jeweled green eyes over his face as if trying to suss out what was going on in his head. Egan decided to diffuse that with a question that fell into
the polite small talk that would have happened had this been a normal visit.
โUh, how are you doing?โ he asked. On the surface, that didnโt seem to be a safe area of conversation since it could lead to that screaming rant over his huge part in her husbandโs death. But Egan realized he would welcome the rant.
Because he deserved it.
Alana took a deep breath. โWell, despite nearly everyone in town deciding I should live out the rest of my life as a widow, Iโve started dating again.โ
That got his attention. Not because he hadnโt known about the townโs feelings. And not because he believed she shouldnโt have a second chance at romance. But Egan had thought she didnโt want such a chance, that she was still as buried in the past as he was. Apparently not.
โIโm only doing virtual dating for now,โ she went on, not sounding especially thrilled with that. โLast week, I had a virtual date with a guy who has six goats and eleven chickens in his one-bedroom apartment in Houston.โ
Egan didnโt especially want to smile, but he did, anyway. โSounds like a prize catch. Youโd never have to buy eggs again. Or fertilizer.โ
She shrugged. โHe was a prize compared to the one I had the week before. Within the first minute of conversation, he wanted to know the circumference of my nipples.โ Alana stopped, her eyes widening as if she hadnโt expected to share that.
Egan smiled again, but this one was forced. He
hadnโt wanted Alana to think he was shocked or offended, though he was indeed shocked. Heโd never considered nipple size one way or another.
Heโd especially never considered anything about Alanaโs nipples.
And he hated that was now in his head. That kind of stuff could mess with things that already had a shaky status quo.
โDating at thirty-five isnโt as much a โfish in the seaโ situation as it is more of a, uh, well, swamp,โ Alana explained. โThink scaly critters, slithery, that sort of thing, with the potential and hope that some actual fish lingering about will eventually come out of hiding.โ
That didnโt sound appealing at all, but then he hadnโt had to hit any of the dating sites. He could thank the eternal string of matchmakers for that. Unlike the widowed Alana, apparently everyone thought a divorced guy in his thirties shouldnโt be solo. Especially a guy whoโd had his โheart brokenโ when his wife had walked out on him right before his best friend had been killed.
โHow about you?โ she asked, clearly aiming for a change of subject and her own shot at small talk. โHave you jumped into dating waters?โ
He shook his head. โToo busy.โ
She broke their unwritten rule by locking her gaze with his for a second or two. โYeah. Busy,โ she repeated. And it sounded as if that were code for a whole bunch of things. For instance, wounded. Damaged. Guarded. Guilty.
All of the above applied to him.
It was hard for Egan to think about his happiness when heโd robbed Jack of his. Busy, though, was a much safer term for it.
โWell, I gotta go,โ Alana said when the silence turned awkward, as it always did between them. โIโll let Tilly know you wonโt be at the life celebration so she can find someone else to do the unveiling.โ
Egan frowned when a thought occurred to him. โShe wonโt ask you to do it, will she?โ Because he couldnโt imagine that itโd be any easier for Alana than it would be for him.
โNo.โ Another sigh went with that. โTilly still has me firmly in the โgrieving widowโ category, which apparently will preclude me from lifting a veil on a painting and doing other things such as dating or appearing too happy when Iโm in public.โ
He wanted to ask, Arenโt you still a grieving widow? But that would go well beyond small talk. It could lead to an actual conversation that would drag feelings and emotions to the surface. No way did he want to deal with that.
Obviously, Alana wasnโt on board for such a chat, either, because she headed for the door, giving him a forced smile and a quick glance before she left and went to her car. Egan watched her, doling out his own forced smile and what had to be a stupid-looking wave.
Since he didnโt want to stand around and think about this visit, Colleenโs trashed letterโor Alanaโs nipplesโhe grabbed his flight cap and keys so he could go to his truck. He barely made it a step, though, before his phone dinged with another text.
Great. Another photo trip down memory lane.
But it wasnโt.
It was his fatherโs name on the screen, but there was no picture. Only six words that sent Eganโs heart to his knees.
Get to Emerald Creek Hospital now.
Excerpted from Heart Like a Cowboy by Delores Fossen. Copyright ยฉ 2023 by Delores Fossen. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
*****
Author Info:
USA Today bestselling author, Delores Fossen, has sold over 125 novels with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award, the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award and was a finalist for the prestigious Rita ยฎ. In addition, she’s had nearly a hundred short stories and articles published in national magazines. You can contact the author through her webpage at http://www.deloresfossen.comย ย ย ย ย
I swore I would only get married if my life depended on it. Oh, the irony.
Many things have happened over the last few weeks that I didnโt see coming. My family imploded. Our business was turned upside down. And someone threatened to harm me if I didnโt make good on my fatherโs promises.
But the biggest thing I didnโt see coming?
Foxx Carmichael demanding marriage.
Heโs doing it out of loyalty to my brother. I know that. But I canโt help but think if, through that deliciously hot, grumpy exterior, my bodyguard doesnโt have ulterior motives.
Thereโs no denying the fire in his touch or the heat in his blue eyes. He protects me with a ferocity that leaves me breathless. He makes me rethink many things I thought I knew for sureโlike my position on marriage.
But how we dance around our fake relationship makes me wonder what part of this is pretend. None of it matters if he doesnโt admit he feels the same way.
Our sham wedding will fall apart as soon as the threat is contained. But what happens if the flames between us burn everything to the ground first?
Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited
USA Today and Amazon Charts Bestselling author, Adriana Locke, writes contemporary romances about the two things she knows bestโbig families and small towns. Her stories are about ordinary people finding extraordinary love with the perfect combination of heart, heat, and humor.
She loves connecting with readers, fall weather, football, reading alpha heroes, everything pumpkin, and pretending to garden.
Hailing from a tiny town in the Midwest, Adriana spends her free time with her high school sweetheart (who she married over twenty years ago) and their four sons (who truly are her best work). Her kitchen may be a perpetual disaster, and if all else fails, there is always pizza.
My time playing pro hockey will be up soon. I can feel it. And Iโve heard the rumors: heโs too old, heโs had too many injuries, heโs lost his edge. I donโt want to admit it, but they could be right. Next season might be my last.
Or this season. Because of course, this is when the universe decides I need another concussion. Itโs a doozy tooโthe kind thatโs going to keep me off skates for a while.
Which is how I end up in a small New England town in the middle of nowhere Vermont, eating every meal at a diner where a grumpy chef from Quebec makes haute cuisineโฆand burgers. Jean-Claude is funny and charming andโ
Okay, I have a crush on a gay man.
This is a new one.
Jean-Claude
Confused straight men are entertaining. But Riley isโฆfascinating, sexy, and curiously vulnerable. His injury has rocked his confidence a bit, so perhaps heโs in need of a friend. Any friend. Even moi.
Iโm an unlikely choice, but maybe he just likes my tuna salad.
NoโฆI think itโs me.
And though Iโm happy to help him explore his bisexual curious side, I have career concerns of my own. See, the things I love most about Elmwood seem shaky and uncertain, but not Riley. Heโs solid and genuine. Suddenly, this temporary secret liaison feels more real than anything in my life.
I need more than this season. I want it all. With Riley.
Next Season is an MM bisexual-awakening romance featuring a grumpy chef, an injured hockey player, and a big HEA in a small town where anything can happen.
Riley shook his wrist and stole a glance my way. โYou donโt strike me as the type who likes to follow rules.โ
โNot true. Religion was a big part of my life when I was a child. Church on Sundays and high holidays, Catholic school. I always did well with structure and discipline. Hockey gave me that too. The practicing, the camaraderieโฆthe game is always bigger than one player, but your contribution matters. Itโs like that in a kitchen too. Everyone has a role to play, and weโre better at it when we work as a team. Rules are good, butโฆโ I pulled the dough from him and grinned. โItโs fun to break them.โ
He snickered, diligently pushing and folding the dough. โUh-huh. Now, me? I was a quintessential rule follower. Even after I left home, I made my own rules aboutโฆeverything in my life. Food restrictions, daily exercise, sleep, alcoholโฆI even had a no masturbation rule twenty-four hours before a game.โ
I wrinkled my nose in distaste. โIs this some kind of testosterone bullshit?โ
He blushed, and it was so fucking cute I couldnโt resist looping my arm around his waist, nuzzling his neck, and pressing kisses behind his ear.
โCut it out.โ He wriggled in my arms, then leaned against me. โTo be honest, I got carried away with the rules. I have a mild obsessive-compulsive streak, and Iโm hard on myself. I was like this as a kid tooโalways trying to be the best and do the best. Itโs fucking exhausting.โ
โI bet. I canโt relate. I was terrible.โ I sighed. โMy poor parents. I was the kid who fell asleep in church, ditched school to smoke with my hooligan friends, and the D-man who showed much promise, but spent far too much time in the penalty box for using my fists instead of my brains. Itโs not that I didnโt want to follow rules, but some of them seemed pointless to me.โ
โYeah, that sounds more like you.โ
โOui. I had too much energy or not enough. I never got the balance right until I worked in a kitchen and found out the hard way that everything I touched would turn to shit if I didnโt pay attention. So I learned to be patient and put in the work. And because of that, I donโt have to cross my fingers or double-check my recipes. I know this bread will be amazingโฆunless you fucked it up somehow.โ
Riley swatted my ass with a dish towel. โI made it better. Admit it.โ
โWe shall see.โ
*****
Review:
I loved this story. It’s low angst, so sweet, and I didn’t even mind that 90% of it is just the two of them together (although seeing JC interact with others is a hoot and a half). It is a joy getting to know all of JC’s secrets as Riley gets him to open up bit by bit. He had a few forks in the road that helped make him into the grumpy, caring, funny man he is today.
Riley is impatient to get back on the ice, but JC proves to be a good distraction. Maybe too good as Riley starts to realize that his feelings are turning a direction he didn’t anticipate. I didn’t mind that Hayes lets them explore this new side to Riley without a lot of drama. He just goes with the flow, evaluating his comfort level every step of the way, and JC’s calm support definitely helps as things get steadily more steamy.
When I read You, Again I felt that any issues with the book were squarely on me and I was right. With this follow up book Hayes reminds me what I like so much about her stories. Her MCs are great together – I love JC’s playfully gruff personality and Riley is a superstitious mess as he faces his future & his feelings for JC. Together, they are loving, so supportive, and they made me very happy. I’m excited that there’s a holiday story coming soon because I’m ready to get back to Elmwood.
*****
Author Info:
Lane Hayes loves a good romance! An avid reader from an early age, she has always been drawn to well-told love story with beautifully written characters. She loves wine, chocolate and travel (in no particular order). Lane lives in Southern California with her amazing husband and her fabulous pup, George.
Readers who love books about books will fall for Erin La Rosa’s latest rom comโa friends (with benefits)-to-lovers story about a romance author who’s never been in love, and needs to find out why before her next manuscript is due! For fans of BY THE BOOK and BOOK LOVERS.
Plot Twist
by Erin La Rosa
ISBN: 9781335458117
Publication Date: November 14, 2023
Publisher: Canary Street Press
18.99 US | 23.99 CAN
Blurb:
Romance author Sophie Lyonโs ironic secret just went viral: sheโs never been in love. Though her debut novel made readers swoon, Sophieโs having trouble getting her new characters to happily-ever-after, and she blames it on her own uninspired love life. With a manuscript deadline looming, Sophie makes an ambitious plan to overcome her writerโs block: reunite with her exes to learn why she’s never fallen in loveโand document it all for her millions of new online followers. Which also means facing her ex-girlfriend Carla, the one person Sophie could have loved.
Luckily, Sophieโs reclusive landlord, Dash Montroseโa former teen heartthrobโhas social media all figured out and offers to help. But he doesn’t mention that heโs an anonymous online crafter, a hobby that helps him maintain his sobriety. No one knows about his complicated relationship with alcohol and he intends to keep it that way. His family is Hollywood royalty, so Dash has to steer clear of scandal.
As Sophie and Dash grow closer, they discover a heat between them that rivals Dash’s pottery kiln. But Sophie needs to figure out who she is outside her relationships, and Dash isnโt sure heโs stable enough for the commitment she deserves. So Sophie suggests what any good romance author would: a friends-with-benefits arrangement. Surely a casual relationship wonโt cause any troubleโฆ
More specifically, sheโd had one (or three) too many the night before. So instead of falling asleep on her bed, she was lying on the couch with a paperback book as a makeshift pillow. Her legs were tucked up in the fetal position inside her billowy dress. And as she licked her lips, she tasted vodka and fried chicken, which she didnโt remember drinking or eating.
She attempted to open her eyes, but her lashes stuck together from the makeup sheโd forgotten to remove the night before. With the help of her index finger and thumb, she managed to peel one lid open. White-hot summer light poured in through the arched living-room window and her mint green walls, a color sheโd specifically chosen for its soothing properties, were mockingly chipper.
But even more unsettling was the book on the coffee table directly in front of her, Whisked Away. Sophieโs first published book. She closed her one good eye and wished sheโd never opened it.
Her mom had always dreamed about Sophie filling an entire bookshelf with all her titles, the years of working multiple day jobs while tinkering on romance books finally worth the struggle. But, as it turned out, Whisked Away would be Sophieโs one and only book. Had she known sheโd be a one-hit wonder, she wouldnโt have ordered the little placard for her writing desk: Ask Me about My Tropes.
The worst part was that she had sold a follow-up bookโor, at least, a pitch plus the first three chaptersโbut she hadnโt been able to finish The Love Drought (a title so tragically similar to her own personal problems that it made her cringe). Sheโd been given multiple extensions but missed all of them. And, per her contract, her publisher had the right to terminate their deal if those deadlines werenโt met. But no matter how many drafts she started, Sophie couldnโt find her way to the happily ever after that all romance books promised and that she loved.
The phone call with her agent started with We need to talkโฆ and ended with You have six weeks to finish this book or your contract, plus the advance, will be taken back.
Sheโd spent most of that advance, though, along with the royalty checks that grew smaller and smaller as interest in her last book waned. She needed money from turning in the next book if she wanted to continue paying for things like food or a place to stay.
She shouldโve seen the implosion coming. Her horoscope had warned that the entire month of June would be bad for important communication. But the damage was done: Sophie was a romance author with writerโs block, and in six weeksโ time, sheโd lose her publishing deal.
So sheโd done the only thing she knew would make her feel better: called Poppy. And her best friend had suggested a night out at their favorite downtown karaoke bar to drown away the loud whir of failure.
She cautiously sat up, then settled her feet into the woven jute rug. Her legs were as firm as Jell-O when she stood. Still, she managed to make it to the hallway mirror, where she saw that her normally side-swept curtain bangs had morphed into Medusa, snakelike tendrils across her forehead, and she had more flakes on her face than her pet goldfish had in his bowl.
She cringed. Rain Boots. Her goldfish was twelve years old and the longest relationship sheโd ever had. She planted her hand on the wall for support and shuffled over to her bedroom where a large glass fishbowl sat on her bedside table. Rain Boots swam in the exact middle and blinked at Sophie with large accusatory eyes.
โIโm sorry, honey,โ Sophie croaked out. โI know we have our bedtime routine, but Mommy got horribly drunk.โ
She tapped the glass with her index finger and waited for a response, but none came. Eventually the silence broke when her doorbell loudly ding-donged and caused her to jump in surprise. The next, and bigger, surprise came when she made her way to the front door and saw her landlord waiting on the porch.
Dash Montrose wasnโt a tall man, but he had presence. Part of that was because he always seemed to be fidgetingโtapping his fingers, shifting his feet, or pacing slightlyโbut also, he had thick arms with swirling, inky-black tattoos.
Itโs not that Sophie had stared at those arms in prior instances butโฆwell, yeah, she probably had.
Still, her first instinct was to hide behind the couch because what the hell was Dash doing there? She and Dash lived next door to each other, but they were not close. In fact, Dash hardly ever acknowledged her existence. He lived in the large house tucked behind her bungalow, but he was always walking away in some kind of a hurry. If she waved, he only ever nodded back. She didnโt think he was intentionally being a jerk, but he clearly had no interest in interacting with her. They hadnโt spoken actual words to each other in at least a few months. She Venmoed him the rent, and sometimes he left a thumbs-up in response. That was the extent of it.
But there he was, in jeans and a T-shirt. What could he want? Did he somehow know her funds were about to run out and he was preemptively evicting her? Sophie avoided confrontation at all costs, but she couldnโt run away from him, not when his face was pressed against the window of her door and he was peering directly at her. She clutched her arms across her chest, extremely aware that she was still dressed in her clothes from the night before, as she made her way to him.
When she opened the door, she was hit not only with the heat from the high sun above but by the sight of Dashโs wet hair slicked around his face. Water trickled down his neck and splotched his faded shirt, like heโd come straight over from a shower. Which meant a few minutes prior heโd been totally naked, covered in soap and water andโฆ
โHey, uh, whoa.โ His voice cut through Sophieโs thoughts. When she glanced up, Dash gave her an uneasy expression, then gestured down the length of her. โWhat happenedโฆโ
She never left the house without a minimum of tinted moisturizer, but of course Dash came on the one day where she closely resembled a Madame Tussauds wax statue melting in the sun. Sophie gently swiped her index finger under her eye, and it came back coated in black liner. Excellent.
โVodka happened,โ she muttered.
She rubbed the liner between her fingers. Something was wrong. Mercury mustโve been in retrograde. If thirteen-year old Sophie had known that she would be renting a place from Dash Montroseโformer teen heartthrob movie star turned still hunky landlordโand he was seeing her hungoverโฆsheโd be even more embarrassed than she already was. And sheโd probably also be delighted. Because Sophie had maaaybe had a photo of him from a magazine cover on her wall when she was growing up. His film Happy Now? was her all-time favorite movie.
She absolutely did not have a crush on adult Dash, though. Well, he was undeniably hot. No point in glossing over that thick, dirty-blond hair, the dimple in his chin, or any of the other tatted-up details. But he was Poppyโs brother and so off-limits that Sophie had built a wall around Dash in her mind. Though bits of the wall appeared to crumble at the sight of his strong jaw and the dark circles under his eyes that made him all the more mysterious to her.
โPoppy asked me to come check on you. She said you werenโt answering your phone.โ He glanced behind her, as if searching for a potential thief holding her cell hostage.
โMy Poppy?โ Sophie had worked at Poppyโs spa, Glow, for yearsโone of the many day jobs sheโd had before quitting to write full-time. Though, now that she had endless writerโs block, she might have to beg for her old job back.
โSheโs my sister, so sheโs technically our Poppy.โ His hands landed in the pockets of his jeans.
Sophie looked behind her to where the phone usually was, and blessedly, while sheโd been drunk enough to use a book as a pillow, sheโd been just sober enough to plug in her phone. She rubbed at one of her throbbing temples and walked over to her desk, grabbed her phone, then held down the power button and watched the white icon flash back.
As she waited for the phone to boot up, she walked back toward Dash.
โOkay, she wants me to tell you that thereโs a video of you going viral?โ Dash gestured to his phone, which made his forearm flex and Sophieโs eyes widen in response.
She tried to process what heโd said. She needed an intense boost of caffeineโmaybe a matchaโto be able to comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. โA video?โ
โI donโt know, she said you needed to see it. And that I needed to make sure you saw it.โ He shrugged, but the small motion lifted the edge of his shirt up just enough for Sophie to catch a glimpse of his boxers.
Sophie didnโt want to be impoliteโDash was Poppyโs older brother, after allโbut what was she supposed to do? She couldnโt so much as look at a candle shop without rushing in to buy one. Dash was the male equivalent of fresh beeswax. She was definitely staring.
Just then, her phone erupted in a series of pings, vibrations, and what sounded like one deafening goose honk. If she owned pearls, sheโd be clutching the hell out of them. The screen filled with notificationsโemails, texts, missed calls, and push notifications from Instagramโbut she pulled up Poppyโs text conversation first.
Soph, are you up?ย
Itโs 10. You never sleep this late.ย
Iโm at work, ARE YOU OKย
Iโm sending Dash over.
YOUโRE NOT DEAD! YIPPEE!ย
OK, hereโs the vid. Donโt freak out!
Dashโs phone pinged too, he looked down, then sighed. โDid you get it?โ He sounded a little irritated.
Sophie frowned at the blurry thumbnail of a woman, but clicked the link, which sent her to the TikTok app. Then, almost immediately, she saw herself reflected on the screen. The video was taken at the karaoke bar, and Sophie was the main event. She stood onstage as the undeniable background music to Elton Johnโs โTiny Dancerโ played. She had requested that song, hadnโt she? The small pieces of her lost-memory puzzle began to click into place.
Only, in the video, she was sobbing, with tears running down her cheeks, as she gazed wild-eyed into the crowd. Poppy ran onto the stage and attempted to coax Sophie off, but Sophie grabbed the mic and shouted, โIโve never been in love, okay?!โ Her voice so angry and vehement that she appeared to be deranged. The person holding the phone zoomed in at that exact moment to capture Sophieโs grimace as she shrieked out, โLove isnโt real!โ Then Poppy yanked the mic out of Sophieโs hand and dropped it for her. End of video.
โStop, stop, stop!โ The words screeched out of her as she furiously poked the screen to try and delete the video. Then she remembered this was not her videoโsomeone else had uploaded it. Eventually, her eyes drifted down to the caption, which read Relatable! The video had over two hundred thousand views and thirty thousand likes.
โOh my holy hot hell.โ She was a writer but could not think of any other words in that moment. Her mind raced at the thought of hundreds of thousands of people watching her have a public meltdown and liking it.
Normally, Sophie was an optimist, but after the last twenty-four hours, she was beginning to understand the appeal of pessimism. Her hand instinctively went to her chest and her fingers tap-tap-tapped at her pacemakerโsomething she always did to steady herselfโas she scrolled through the comments and saw that not one but multiple people had recognized her.
Sophie Lyon is FUN
Sophie Lyon is secretly unhinged and itโs sending me
I hated her book, but I like this?
โJust breathe.โ Then Dashโs hand was on her back, steady and warm, which momentarily distracted her, but not for long.
The heat outside had intensified to Palm Springsโlevel boiling and caused Sophie to break out in either hives or a rash. She furiously clawed at her throat with her free hand. She walked away from Dash and down the porch steps. Her bare feet hit the cool blades of grass in her yard, and when she looked up, the iconic Hollywood sign perched in the Santa Monica Mountains shined pearly white in the distance. Seeing those letters from her yard every morning used to make her feel closer to the success she so deeply craved, but now she felt buried under the weight of its implied expectations.
She stumbled, and Dash was next to her within seconds, holding her steady. He grabbed her elbow with one hand, and the other wrapped around her waist to cup her hip. His skin was warm against her, even through her dress. Her stomach flipped, probably from the lingering alcohol. โSophie, you really need to sit. You look like youโre about to faintโโ
The sound of her phone pinging cut him off. And when she looked down, a familiar name flashed across the screen. Carla. Sophie stopped scratching her throat. Her ex. The woman who had single-handedly led her on for close to a year. A year in which Sophie could feel herself beginning to fall head over heels, and thenโฆ Carla had ended it and dragged their relationship to the trash. Sophie stared at Carlaโs name, and the text underneath, which read Saw the videoโฆ As in her ex had seen the video of Sophie having a full-on meltdown.
It was at this moment that she tilted her head back, let the punishing sun burn her eyes, and shouted as loudly as she physically could. When she eventually stopped screaming, her head felt light. The edges of her vision blurred with the realization that she had nothing left, her life was over, and she was completely mortified.
โSeriously, Sophie? My ears are ringing.โ
Sophie was so focused on her own humiliation that she mustโve forgotten that Dash was right there.
โAre you on something?โ Dash asked.
Sophie frowned. No, she was not on something. She may have been braless, hungover, and hanging by a thread emotionally, but what kind of an accusation was that?
And even if she were on ayahuasca and beginning to see rainbow caticorns encircling her feetโwhich sounded great, actuallyโwhat she did with her body was absolutely none of his business. She paid her rent on time. This was her place. He was the one whoโd come bounding over, all wet and wearing a too-tight shirt, and now he had the nerve to suggest she was the one out of line?
ย ย ย ย She would tell Dash that he needed to leave. But when she opened her mouth to say as much, she felt the bile rise in her throat. Her eyes bulged wide as she closed her mouth and held back something akin to a burp. Dash clocked her panic, and his eyes narrowed. She shook her head, but there was no use. She was definitely going to hurl all over her high-school celebrity crush. And without even being able to call out a warning, she projectile-vomited all over Dash.
*****
Author Info:
ERIN LA ROSA is a writer living in Los Angeles. As a writer for BuzzFeed, she frequently writes about the perils and triumphs of being a redhead. Before BuzzFeed, Erin worked for the comedy websites Funny or Die and MadAtoms, as well as E!s Fashion Police, Wetpaint, and Ecorazzi. Erin has appeared on CNN, Headline News, Jimmy Kimmel, and The Today Show on behalf of BuzzFeed. She is the author of Womanskills and The Big Redhead Book.
This man of the month has it all, but his world goes up in smoke when a saucy out-of-town woman crashes into his life. If only she would let him capture her heart. Readers who love Sweet on Wilde by Fabiola Francisco and Something That Could Last by Ashley Cade will enjoy Hot Stuff by Ashton Brooks, a steamy, small town, enemies-to-lovers, cinnamon roll hero, thriller, found family romance.
Hot Stuff
Candy Cane Key
Man of the Month: November
by Ashton Brooks
Blurb:
This man of the month has it all. His own pizza restaurant, a family of five loving sisters and a mother who dotes on him, best friends he can always count on, and he’s one of the town’s most eligible bachelors. Watch as his world goes up in smoke when a saucy out-of-town woman crashes into his life. If only she would let him capture her heart.
โCalSone Day?โ I read the banner that is currently being hung up outside our family restaurant in preparation for the big celebration that is a week away.ย
โJoseph, itโs Cal-Zone. With a Z!โ I yell up at him, and watch his body sway slightly on the ladder. He looks over it and checks his phone.
โThat is a Z,โ he shouts back and waves his hand over the sign.
โItโs a fucking S.โ I growl back. โHold on.โ I leave him and head into the restaurant to find my backup. Thank god all five of my sisters are in today so they can back me up. Our mother is in the kitchen preparing for the big event, so I wonโt bug her, but the rest of them are needed.ย
โRosie, I need you all,โ I whistle at her from behind the register, waving her outside. The look she shoots me is as sharp as daggers, but I know it’s only because I dared call her in such a manner. She must see the frustration on my face though, because her scowl quickly turns to concern.ย
I hear her yell for the others and I let the door shut while I keep an eye on Joseph. Heโs mumbling to himself, words I canโt hear, but the redness on his cheeks shows he must have realized heโs wrong.ย
โWhat the heck, Rome?โ My oldest sister, Romi, flings her hands up in the air. Sheโs scowling at me, and I meet her raised brows with my own. The rest of them follow out and stand amongst each other.ย
โWhat happened?โ Rumer asks, and I love that, as usual, she remains the calmest in the chaos. Sheโs the second oldest child and she has always been the peacekeeper.ย
โI donโt know, he flipped a lid inside and said we all had to be out here,โ Rosie lifts her shoulders. She is the youngest in our family so I canโt help but smile at her, even though she isnโt helping me.ย
โThe sign,โ I point up at it and all five sets of dark eyes, the one trait we all share, jump to where the hanging red tarp is.ย
โCal..Sone Day,โ Reagan reads, and I see her brow furrow. โWith an S?โ
โAhh, fuck,โ Remi, the sister closest to me in age, laughs, โJoseph, what the hell did you do?โ She is the wildest of my sisters, and she cusses about as much as I do, much to our motherโs dismay.ย
โIt says Calsone Day!โ He yells down at all of us.ย
โCalzone is spelt with a Z, Joseph,โ Romi snaps back, her big- sister voice coming out. She sounds scarily like our mother when she does that, and Joseph is speechless.
โBaby,โ Joseph calls to her, โMy phone says S. Iโll change it, Iโll change it.โ He throws his hands in the air and starts taking down the sign.ย
I wait him out, my hands on my hips, standing next to Romi. Joseph is her new fiancรฉ, and heโs been trying to help out around the restaurant, but he still gets on my nerves.ย
โQuit scowling at him,โ She whispers next to me and nudges her elbow into my side.ย
I grunt from the impact and turn to her with a smirk, โIt’s not my fault the guy canโt spell Calzone right. And he wants to work here? Take over a share?โ
โHe doesnโt want a share,โ She sighs and stomps her foot, something all the women in my family are known for, โHe just wants to be part of the business with us. I would think that is what you all would want. We need the extra hands. Rumerโs baby is due in a month, and her shift will need to be picked up.โ
โRomi,โ I slide my arm around her shoulders, โIt will be fine. And leave Joseph to me. He needs to learn just like Tommy did for Rumer. And now look, heโs the best meat guy in the town.โ
โI know you mean well Rome, but we both know that Joseph will never be good enough in your eyes. You hold grudges like no one else, and the fact that he ran over your bike tire when you were ten still makes you mad,โ She argues, and I see the turmoil in her eyes.ย
โIt was a great bike,โ I shrug my shoulders.
โRoman!โ
โIโm kidding,โ I give her a squeeze, โI will try and take it easier on him. Once he fixes the damn sign.โ
Romi huffs, shaking her head, but I do see a small smile on her lips. She heads back into the restaurant, and my gaze finds its way back to Joseph, who is rolling up the sign and tapping away on his phone.ย
โAre we good?โ
His eyes shoot up to mine, โI ordered a new one, with rush delivery. It will get here before Wednesday.โ
โGreat. We can hang it up right as everyone is walking in,โ I grunt and shake my head. Joseph grabs his bag and his ladder, and scurries to his work truck. I watch him drive away and try to remember to breathe in and out.ย
Calzone Day needs to be perfect. It’s a staple holiday at Mohagenโs, and has been since my grandfather first built it here in Candy Cane Key.ย My father, Rebel, inherited it from him, and when he married mother, they took it over. Their wedding reception was hosted here, all six of us were raised in these kitchens, and took afternoon naps in the booth. The sign needs to be perfect. We canโt not have Calzone Day.
Copyright 2023 Ashton Brooks
*****
Author Info:
Ashton Brooks is an author with a variety of stories that are in Contemporary Romance and New Adult romance. Her writing style is suspenseful and sometimes leads to heart-wrenching conclusions. With a background in forensic psychology she really goes for those investigative, dark and twisty feels. And of course, lots of love! Brooks enjoys reading as much as writing. Television shows such as Criminal Minds, Scandal, and One Tree Hill are her go-to binge worthy series. She loves spending time with her friends and family with a good glass of beer or wine. If she isnโt reading or writing, Brooks is Pinteresting future home projects for her wonderful husband to accomplish.
Two strangers who couldnโt be more opposite find themselves on an unexpected cross-country road trip days before Christmas where whatever can go wrong, does.
Heโs an Army Ranger.
Sheโs a baker.
Heโs organized and rigid.
Sheโs messy and carefree.
He doesnโt do relationships.
Sheโs following her heart.
His family chat blows up his phone.
She just buried her last living relative.
The holiday season doesnโt seem so jolly as they venture from one mode of transportation to the next. But, they have to become friends and rely on each other if theyโre going to survive all the obstacles thrown their way.
As the miles grow shorter, vulnerabilities are shared, and by the time they reach their destination, neither one of them is sure what they really want for Christmas anymore.
Download today on Amazon, Apple Books, Audible, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, and Kobo!
Y’all, Piper Rayne is one of those one click authors for me. It doesn’t matter what their book is about, and there have been some where the blurb made me go ehhh, they have never let me down. Their characters are always interesting and detailed, the plot is engrossing, and the love story leaves me with a happy smile.
Claus and Effect is no different, full of hijinks and feels in equal measure. I enjoyed the insta-hate that these two have going. The dual POV makes it a little bit easier to be OK with their initial level of snark (I think it’s easy to get heavy-handed with it and move into rude & unattractive instead of tension hiding something more type thing). As they are forced into one unexpected, and often madcap, situation after another, forcing them to get to know each other better, their feelings start to morph into something a bit more positive. And before they can make it to Portland, they realize that maybe they were wrong about a whole lot of things.
I’ll admit I didn’t see the third act trouble coming. And I’m not sure I 100% followed Tre’s issues, at least not to the extent that they come into play here. But it made for an extra quirky ending ๐ There’s not a lot of steam here, in case that’s your thing, but I didn’t mind at all. It was all about the journey, and what a wacky & fun journey it was. Keep it coming Piper Rayne!
*****
Author Info:
Piper Rayne is a USA Today Bestselling Author duo who write “heartwarming humor with a side of sizzle” about families, whether that be blood or found. They both have e-readers full of one-clickable books, they’re married to husbands who drive them to drink, and they’re both chauffeurs to their kids. Most of all, they love hot heroes and quirky heroines who make them laugh, and they hope you do, too!
From New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby comes The Stand-In, the newest novel in her beloved Single in Seattle series, featuring Drew Montgomery!
The Stand-In
Single in Seattle series
by Kristen Proby
Blurb:
I donโt like my new boss. Not at all.
London Ambrose is a spoiled billionaireโs daughter. And now sheโs the new co-owner of the Seattlefootball team,but that doesnโt mean that she knows diddly squat about football.
Thereโs nothing I hate more than having someone micromanaging me, shadowing my every move, and giving me their two cents on Every. Little. Thing. as I coach MY defensive line.
I donโt care about new team jerseys and branding or answering her million and one questions about how I do my job. But, I canโt help but come to her defense when an old flame shows up and starts harassing her. Iโm a Montgomery. We donโt let anyone mess with women.
Now, Iโm suddenly in a fake relationship, pretending to date the gorgeous billionaire and learning so many surprising things about this captivating woman that I just canโt seem to stay away from her.
When the lines between our fake relationship and real relationship blur, and my initial distaste for her turns into desire, I find myself coaching the most important game of my life – do I let my guard down or do I let London Ambrose walk away forever?
Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited
This is the first by this author for me but I see her name everywhere and I know that she’s well loved by readers so I decided to take a chance on Drew’s book. Joining a series 5 books in wasn’t an issue. There are a lot of characters (and after this I’m looking forward to adding all of their books to my TBR pile) but the author made sure that new readers are able to keep up with them easily. So, if this is your first too I think you’ll be OK.
This book got a few middle of the road reviews because the story didn’t quite live up to the blurb and that was something I noticed as well. It’s not like Drew actively dislikes London, he just doesn’t think that she takes her ownership duties seriously, but as he gets to know her his opinion quickly changes. And their fake dating story line lasts all of about 10 pages so people who are looking for either an enemies-to-lovers or fake dating trope are going to be a little disappointed.
Instead we get a feel-good, slow burn, realistic romance. We’re there as London and Drew get to know each other better, act on their attraction, and let their feelings grow. It’s all sorts of heart-warming, and Drew’s relationship with London’s son is just the sweetest. I loved how serious London takes being a mom and the amazing way that she handles being a pillar of the community. She’s smart and dedicated, enjoys the benefits of her position but also is down-to-earth and real. And Drew isn’t afraid to let her shine. But he’s also there to support her when she needs it, which is awesome. If all her books have such charming characters I’m definitely looking forward to working my way thru Proby’s back list and seeing what she has coming up next.
*****
Author Info:
Kristen Proby is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of over seventy published titles. She debuted in 2012, captivating fans with spicy contemporary romance about families and friends with plenty of swoony love. She also writes paranormal romance and suggests you keep the lights on while reading them.
When not under deadline, Kristen enjoys spending time with her husband and their fur babies, riding her bike, relaxing with embroidery, trying her hand at painting, and, of course, enjoying her beautiful home in the mountains of Montana.
When the entire Montgomery family comes together, it makes for a holiday to remember.
But it’s more than just the tree, decorations, and gifts that have everyone talking. With so many people crammed under one roof, there’s bound to be some drama. Between last-minute business crises, talks of retirement, a new relationship, a sprinkle of marital problems, lots of snow, and a surprise baby, this has all the makings of a blue Christmas. They’ll need more than one Christmas miracle to get everything back on track, and hopefully Santaโor William Montgomeryโwill come to the rescue.
One thing’s for sure, it’s a Christmas they’ll be talking about for years to come.
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Samantha Chase is a New York Times and USA Today bestseller of contemporary romance that’s hotter than sweet, sweeter than hot. She released her debut novel in 2011 and currently has more than seventy titles under her belt – including THE CHRISTMAS COTTAGE which was a Hallmark Christmas movie in 2017! She’s a Disney enthusiast who still happily listens to 80’s rock. When she’s not working on a new story, she spends her time reading romances, playing way too many games of Solitaire on Facebook, wearing a tiara while playing with her sassy pug Maylene…oh, and spending time with her husband of 30 years and their two sons in Wake Forest, North Carolina.
Romantic Reads and Such 