I dare you to come meet Breezy and not want to be friends – she is such a doll Β π
*****
Hellions Angels #1
by Lia Riley
Releasing July 11, 2017
Avon Impulse
Blurb:
Her biggest fantasy is about to become a reality…
Jed West is Mr. Hockey. The captain of the NHLβs latest winning team, the Denver Hellionsβand the hottest player on the iceβat least according to every magazine. .and Breezy Angel. Breezy has been drooling over Jed at games for years, and he plays a starring role in her most toe-curling fantasies. But dirty dreams donβt come true, right?
Then Jed saunters through the doors of her library, a last minute special guest for a summer reading event, and not only is he drop dead gorgeous up close, his personality is straight up swoon-worthy. He even comes to the rescue when she has an R-rated βSuper Book Wormβ costume malfunction. But when he mistakenly assumes sheβs more into books than pucks, sheβs too flustered to correct his mistake. And then comes a big kiss, followed by a teensy-tiny problem. Jedβs dating policy is simple: Never date a fan.
So whatβs a fangirl going to have to do to convince her ultimate crush that heβs become less of a perfect fantasy, and more like the perfect man. . .for her?
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32711194-mr-hockey
Goodreads Series Link https://www.goodreads.com/series/204471-hellions-angels
Buy Links:Β Β Β AMAZONΒ |Β B & NΒ |Β GOOGLEΒ |Β ITUNESΒ |Β KOBO
*****
Excerpt:
Jed Westβs stomach curdled faster than overheated hollandaise sauce as he squinted at the menu for Zacharyβs, Denverβs most popular all-day breakfast hangout. Ghost-like shadows haunted the specials list, blurring the descriptions for peanut butter French toast, country fried steak benedict and sweet potato pancakes. Β Ah, shit. Not fucking now. There went the prices tooβthe dollar signs and numbers blurring until barely legible.
No point blinking. He knew the drill. Jaw tight, he reached for his orange juice, took a swig and waited. Short bouts of double vision had dogged him ever since Game Seven, the pattern the same. After a minute or two, his focus would snap back to normal as if nothing had happened. Until then, he needed to follow one of coachβs favorite axioms: βSuck it up, Buttercup.β
Who cared about the damn menu anyway? He pushed it to one side, having already ordered the βManwichβ, chorizo and eggs smashed between a jalapeno cheddar biscuitβthe kind of breakfast that wanted to kill you in the best kind of waysβand crunched ice. Too bad the cubes didnβt pass on their chill, because this. . .situation for lack of a better word, was getting under his skin and it shouldnβt.
NoβScratch that. It couldnβt.
Unexplained double vision wasnβt a walk in the park, but facts were facts. And the ugly truth was that if he didnβt quit batting his lashes like Scarlett OβHara with a fly in her skirt, The Postβs toughest sports columnist would glance up from across the table, mistake his tic for a cheesedick wink, and go Lord of the Flies on his nut sack.
At least for the moment, Neve Angel was occupied. She hunched over her digital voice recorder, dark bangs obscuring her sharp gaze as she fiddled with the control settings. Her lips moved to the upbeat Buddy Holly song piping over the sound system while she plucked a mic from her messenger bag. His vision came back online in time for him to read the orange button pinned to the front.
Had a Ball at The Rock Creek Testicle Festival.
Christ, looked to be an authentic souvenir too.
Slamming his knees together, he forced a grin, the one that had potential endorsements lined up around the block, eager for him to shill everything from vitamin infused coconut water to shaving cream. He unwrapped the paper napkin from around the fork and knife, and began tearing the corner into neat strips.
No doubt the eye thing was fatigue-related, an inevitable toll from the grueling NHL season and subsequent hard-fought playoffs. Everything would be all right in the end. If it wasnβt all right, it wasnβt the end.
βYou plan on telling me whatβs up with Mount Napkin Shreds?β Neve leaned her elbows on the recycled wood tabletop, a signal they were shifting into interview mode. Her brows arched beneath her thick-cut bangs. βNervous about being in the hot seat, princess?β
βYeah, terrified,β he answered laconically, not missing a beat. Hiding his true feelings behind a mask of confidence was a reflex; it came with the territory of having the βCβ stitched on the front of his jersey. A good captain never showed fear to an opponent. βA jackalβs bark is worse then itβs bite.β
βJackal? Donβt tell me youβre using Gunnarisms now.β She rolled her eyes. βAnd Iβd so wanted to enjoy my bagel without gagging.β
The Hellions Head Coach, Tor Gunnar, had a reputation for dismissing the press as βjackals.β He fostered a tense relationship with journalists, in particular, the tiny woman sitting opposite. Neve had run a piece on his divorce a few years ago. He retaliated by refusing to call on her during press conferences. Neve hit back with increasingly critical op-eds. Their mutual enmity had devolved to the stuff of local legend.
*****
Review:
Poor Breezy!Β She meets her biggest crush in quite an embarrassing manner, but Jed (like us) can only be charmed by her.Β Sheβs fun loving, funny and so very real.Β Every time something awkward happens I just want to give her a hug.
Jed knows there is a version of himself that most people see and it is so appealing to be seen as just a guy.Β A hot, sexy guy but just a guy.Β Heβs got a lot on his plate between family pressure and some issues with his career, so having found Breezy gives him that bright spot that he needs at a difficult time.
You can totally relate to both Jed and Breezy β why he wants to be seen as him and how she ends up hiding her fan status from him.Β You know that it isnβt going to go well, that something is going to happen to blow things out of the water.Β The best you can do is hope that Jed gets his act together and figures out what a great catch he has in Breezy.Β I have to say that he does do pretty well for himself Β π Β (Canβt wait to see what comes next β¦ Riley has set us up for quite the doozy of a stand off between Breezyβs sister and Jedβs coach!)
*****
After studying at the University of Montana-Missoula,Β Lia RileyΒ scoured the world armed only with a backpack, overconfidence and a terrible sense of direction. She counts shooting vodka with a Ukranian mechanic in Antarctica, sipping yerba mate with gauchos in Chile and swilling fourex with stationhands in Outback Australia among her accomplishments.
WEBSITEΒ |Β FACEBOOKΒ |Β TWITTERΒ |Β GOODREADS
*****
Giveaway:
Three print copies of MISTER HOCKEY (U.S. Only)
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/521ac4c81338/
*****
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