MISTER HOCKEY
Hellion's Angels #1
Lia Riley
Releasing July 11, 2017
Avon Impulse
Jed West is
Mr. Hockey. The captain of the NHL’s latest winning team, the Denver
Hellions—and the hottest player on the ice—at 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 don’t 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 “Super Book Worm” costume malfunction. But when he mistakenly
assumes she’s more into books than pucks, she’s too flustered to correct his
mistake. And then comes a big kiss, followed by a teensy-tiny problem. Jed’s
dating policy is simple: Never date a fan.
So what’s a
fangirl going to have to do to convince her ultimate crush that he’s become
less of a perfect fantasy, and more like the perfect man. . .for her?
Jed West’s stomach curdled faster than overheated hollandaise sauce as
he squinted at the menu
for Zachary’s, Denver’s 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. Ah,
shit. Not fucking now. There went the prices too–the 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 coach’s favorite axioms: “Suck
it up, Buttercup.”
Who cared
about the damn menu anyway? He pushed it to one side, having already ordered
the “Manwich”, chorizo and eggs smashed between a jalapeno cheddar biscuit–the
kind of breakfast that wanted to kill you in the best kind of ways–and crunched
ice. Too bad the cubes didn’t pass on their chill, because this. . .situation
for lack of a better word, was getting under his skin and it shouldn’t.
No–Scratch
that. It couldn’t.
Unexplained
double vision wasn’t a walk in the park, but facts were facts. And the ugly
truth was that if he didn’t quit batting his lashes like Scarlett O’Hara with a
fly in her skirt, The Post’s 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 wasn’t all right, it wasn’t the end.
“You plan
on telling me what’s up with Mount Napkin Shreds?” 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. “Nervous about being in the hot
seat, princess?”
“Yeah,
terrified,” 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 “C” stitched on the front of his jersey. A good captain never
showed fear to an opponent. “A jackal’s bark is worse then it’s bite.”
“Jackal?
Don’t tell me you’re using Gunnarisms now.” She rolled her eyes. “And I’d so
wanted to enjoy my bagel without gagging.”
The
Hellions Head Coach, Tor Gunnar, had a reputation for dismissing the press as
“jackals.” 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.
After
studying at the University of Montana-Missoula, Lia Riley 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.
Top
Five Sexy Hockey Players
By
Lia Riley
We all know hockey players are hot as puck. Here are
five NHL players I’d love to have a face off with, and by face off I mean stare
at and drool over. Who are your favorite hockey gods? Tell me in the comments,
bonus point if you link to a pic J
In no particular order because all get two solid
thumbs up:
1.
Sidney
Crosby, Captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sidney_Crosby). He
has boyish good looks and Tom Hardy lips, can’t ask for more than that!
2.
P.K
Subban, Defenceman for the Nashville Predators (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P._K._Subban). His
eyes could melt ice, plus he won Olympic gold in 2014 Sochi Olympics.
3.
Joffrey
Lupul, Left winger for Toronto Maple Leafs (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joffrey_Lupul). He
likes to play the guitar too, so not only is he pretty, he can also croon you a
love song. Plus that jaw bone could cut glass.
4.
Tyler
Seguin, Center for the Dallas Stars (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyler_Seguin) Three
words: Full. Sleeved. Tattoos. (nuff said)
5.
Darnell
Nurse, Defenceman for the Edmonton Oilers (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darnell_Nurse). Not
only is he 6’3 of pure yum, he also roots for his sister who plays basketball
for Team Canada. That makes him a hero in my book!
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