Sarina Bowen is the twenty-time USA Today bestselling author of three dozen books, including: theTrue North series, andBrooklyn Hockey. She’s the co-author of Him/Us and theWAGs serieswith Elle Kennedy. She’s the author of The Ivy Yearsseries, and more! Are you looking for a friends-to-lovers story or maybe even a secret baby book? You can read a listof Sarina’s books broken out by trope and style. Need to know what’s coming next? Get all the latest news on Sarina’s website, and sign up for her newsletter so you don’t miss a book or a deal.
The hottest player on the Moo U hockey team hangs a flyer on the bulletin board, and I am spellbound:
Rent a boyfriend for the holiday. For $25, I will be your Thanksgiving date. I will talk hockey with your dad. I will bring your mother flowers. I will be polite, and wear a nicely ironed shirt…
Now everyone knows it’s a bad idea to introduce your long-time crush to your messed-up family. But I really do need a date for Thanksgiving, even if I’m not willing to say why. So I tear his phone number off of that flyer… and accidentally entangle our star defenseman in a ruse that neither of us can easily unwind.
Because Weston’s family is even nuttier than mine. He needs a date, too, for the most uncomfortable holiday engagement party ever thrown.
There will be hors d’oeuvre. There will be faked PDA. And there will be pro-level awkwardness…
Boyfriend is a full-length stand-alone romance for Weston and Abbi
I wonder what Abbi is like. It doesn’t matter very much, of course. I haven’t agreed to marry her. It’s just one day of my life. And people fascinate me, so even if Abbi’s family is irritating as fuck, I probably won’t take it personally.
But I have a good feeling about Abbi herself. She’s local, which is interesting. Vermonters are pretty cool. They have a rugged mentality, and they rarely complain. And they’re usually hockey fans. What’s not to like about that?
The door opens, and I immediately lose my train of thought. I’m blinking at a pretty blond woman with shoulder-length hair. My first reaction is all hell yes and thank you, Jesus.
Then I realize this is not just any woman. It’s the hot waitress from The Biscuit in the Basket. The one who remembers every order without writing it down. The one who always seems to know when we need something more, or when it’s time to drop the check.
The one with the kissable ivory neck and gray eyes that always make me a little stupid. I’ve never asked her out, because it’s rude to hit on a girl who’s just trying to get through her shift at work. But man, I’d like to.
“Hi,” she says, frowning at me. “Wow. You’re wearing a tie.”
“Too much?” I ask, my hand flying to the knot of silk at my throat. “I could lose the tie.” And, heck, why stop there? If she asked me to lose my trousers, I’d do it. Anything for you, honey.
“No, you look very respectful. Thank you for doing this.”
I blink slowly. I can’t believe my luck. She’s my date? “You work at The Biscuit in the Basket,” I say stupidly. “But your name tag says Gail.”
She smiles. “That’s right. The lazy manager put the wrong name on it, and then wouldn’t redo it for me. But I’m glad you can recognize me without the uniform.”
“Well, sure. You look nice. Your hair is different. Fluffier. Wait. Is fluffy a good thing?” I babble.
She laughs suddenly. “Fluffy is fine. At work they make us wear those visor caps. Like we’re all golf caddies.”
I smile back at her and get a little lost for another moment. And her laugh is terrific. A little husky. I dig it.
“So, uh, are you ready to go?”
That’s when I realize I’m blocking her way out of her own door. “Yup, sorry,” I stammer, leaping to the side like a frisky goat.
Oh, man. Nobody would call me Mr. Smooth right now, that’s for damn sure. I’m glad my teammates aren’t here to witness this. I’d never live it down.
Abbi locks her door. “Where are you from, Weston? Is it too far to go home for Thanksgiving?”
“I’m from the eastern edge of Vermont. But I don’t have a car, and we have practice tomorrow anyway. Hey—does your family drink? I brought a bottle of wine.” I hold it up, along with a bouquet of flowers, too.
“That’s lovely of you,” she says. “I have a bottle in my car too. I find that where alcohol and my so-called family are concerned, more is more. Although I’m driving tonight, so I can’t drink.”
“Your so-called family?”
“Well, it’s complicated without being terribly interesting. But we’re going to my stepfather’s house. I mean, he used to be my stepfather and now he’s married to someone else.”
“Your step-stepmother,” I say, recalling her text message.
“Right.” She leads me off the porch and down the walkway. “My car is just around the back. It won’t take us long to get there. You’ll be eating turkey dumplings in no time.”
“Sounds good. My body is, like, fifty percent wings and fries at this point. I’m sure you know that. I’m at your restaurant all the time.”
“Table number seventeen,” she says cheerfully. “The hockey table. Do you know that we prep a different portion of wings depending on whether you guys win or lose?”
“No, really? Why?”
“Because you eat more and get drunker on the nights you lose than on the nights you win.”
“Huh. That’s very scientific of you.”
She unlocks an elderly Honda Civic and opens the driver’s side door. “Last chance to back out.”
I wouldn’t dream of it. I have to remember how to be Mr. Smooth, though, and flirt properly with Abbi. Who knows? After a great meal, we could make this a night to remember. “I’m at your service,” I say, hoping it sounds a little sexy and not creepy. “Let’s get our turkey on.”
Huh. Mr. Smooth seems to be on vacation today.
I give myself a fifty-fifty shot at success. But I’ve faced worse odds. Game on.
The hottest player on the Moo U hockey team hangs a flyer on the bulletin board, and I am spellbound:
Rent a boyfriend for the holiday. For $25, I will be your Thanksgiving date. I will talk hockey with your dad. I will bring your mother flowers. I will be polite, and wear a nicely ironed shirt…
Now everyone knows it’s a bad idea to introduce your long-time crush to your messed-up family. But I really do need a date for Thanksgiving, even if I’m not willing to say why. So I tear his phone number off of that flyer… and accidentally entangle our star defenseman in a ruse that neither of us can easily unwind.
Because Weston’s family is even nuttier than mine. He needs a date, too, for the most uncomfortable holiday engagement party ever thrown.
There will be hors d’oeuvre. There will be faked PDA. And there will be pro-level awkwardness…
Boyfriend is a full-length stand-alone romance for Weston and Abbi
I wonder what Abbi is like. It doesn’t matter very much, of course. I haven’t agreed to marry her. It’s just one day of my life. And people fascinate me, so even if Abbi’s family is irritating as fuck, I probably won’t take it personally.
But I have a good feeling about Abbi herself. She’s local, which is interesting. Vermonters are pretty cool. They have a rugged mentality, and they rarely complain. And they’re usually hockey fans. What’s not to like about that?
The door opens, and I immediately lose my train of thought. I’m blinking at a pretty blond woman with shoulder-length hair. My first reaction is all hell yes and thank you, Jesus.
Then I realize this is not just any woman. It’s the hot waitress from The Biscuit in the Basket. The one who remembers every order without writing it down. The one who always seems to know when we need something more, or when it’s time to drop the check.
The one with the kissable ivory neck and gray eyes that always make me a little stupid. I’ve never asked her out, because it’s rude to hit on a girl who’s just trying to get through her shift at work. But man, I’d like to.
“Hi,” she says, frowning at me. “Wow. You’re wearing a tie.”
“Too much?” I ask, my hand flying to the knot of silk at my throat. “I could lose the tie.” And, heck, why stop there? If she asked me to lose my trousers, I’d do it. Anything for you, honey.
“No, you look very respectful. Thank you for doing this.”
I blink slowly. I can’t believe my luck. She’s my date? “You work at The Biscuit in the Basket,” I say stupidly. “But your name tag says Gail.”
She smiles. “That’s right. The lazy manager put the wrong name on it, and then wouldn’t redo it for me. But I’m glad you can recognize me without the uniform.”
“Well, sure. You look nice. Your hair is different. Fluffier. Wait. Is fluffy a good thing?” I babble.
She laughs suddenly. “Fluffy is fine. At work they make us wear those visor caps. Like we’re all golf caddies.”
I smile back at her and get a little lost for another moment. And her laugh is terrific. A little husky. I dig it.
“So, uh, are you ready to go?”
That’s when I realize I’m blocking her way out of her own door. “Yup, sorry,” I stammer, leaping to the side like a frisky goat.
Oh, man. Nobody would call me Mr. Smooth right now, that’s for damn sure. I’m glad my teammates aren’t here to witness this. I’d never live it down.
Abbi locks her door. “Where are you from, Weston? Is it too far to go home for Thanksgiving?”
“I’m from the eastern edge of Vermont. But I don’t have a car, and we have practice tomorrow anyway. Hey—does your family drink? I brought a bottle of wine.” I hold it up, along with a bouquet of flowers, too.
“That’s lovely of you,” she says. “I have a bottle in my car too. I find that where alcohol and my so-called family are concerned, more is more. Although I’m driving tonight, so I can’t drink.”
“Your so-called family?”
“Well, it’s complicated without being terribly interesting. But we’re going to my stepfather’s house. I mean, he used to be my stepfather and now he’s married to someone else.”
“Your step-stepmother,” I say, recalling her text message.
“Right.” She leads me off the porch and down the walkway. “My car is just around the back. It won’t take us long to get there. You’ll be eating turkey dumplings in no time.”
“Sounds good. My body is, like, fifty percent wings and fries at this point. I’m sure you know that. I’m at your restaurant all the time.”
“Table number seventeen,” she says cheerfully. “The hockey table. Do you know that we prep a different portion of wings depending on whether you guys win or lose?”
“No, really? Why?”
“Because you eat more and get drunker on the nights you lose than on the nights you win.”
“Huh. That’s very scientific of you.”
She unlocks an elderly Honda Civic and opens the driver’s side door. “Last chance to back out.”
I wouldn’t dream of it. I have to remember how to be Mr. Smooth, though, and flirt properly with Abbi. Who knows? After a great meal, we could make this a night to remember. “I’m at your service,” I say, hoping it sounds a little sexy and not creepy. “Let’s get our turkey on.”
Huh. Mr. Smooth seems to be on vacation today.
I give myself a fifty-fifty shot at success. But I’ve faced worse odds. Game on.
One night with Reeve Hale wasn’t enough. I knew it when I kissed him, I knew it when I slept with him, and I was certain of it when I walked out of his motel room the very next day.
So when the shy, gorgeous man is introduced as our newest employee at Vino and Veritas, I can’t help but conjure up all the ridiculous ways to convince him to repeat that unforgettable night. Like asking him to be my fake boyfriend at my sister’s upcoming wedding.
Only, I didn’t expect him to say yes.
Playing pretend shouldn’t feel this real. Especially when Reeve is planning on leaving Vermont after the summer.
We agreed to one night. We negotiated a fake relationship. But I’m the one who broke our terms. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love and he was never supposed to be so unforgettable.
Living in Sydney, Australia with her family, Marley Valentine is a USA Today bestselling author and a former social worker who uses her past experiences to write real life, emotional and heartfelt contemporary romance.
She enjoys mixing it up with both M/F and M/M Romance incorporating all forms of life, lust and love as her characters embark on their journey to their happily ever after.
When she’s not busy writing her own stories, she spends most of her time immersed in the words of her favourite authors.
Marley enjoys interacting with her readers so please feel free to reach out to her via Facebook, Instagram, email and/or subscribe to her newsletter.
One night with Reeve Hale wasn’t enough. I knew it when I kissed him, I knew it when I slept with him, and I was certain of it when I walked out of his motel room the very next day.
So when the shy, gorgeous man is introduced as our newest employee at Vino and Veritas, I can’t help but conjure up all the ridiculous ways to convince him to repeat that unforgettable night. Like asking him to be my fake boyfriend at my sister’s upcoming wedding.
Only, I didn’t expect him to say yes.
Playing pretend shouldn’t feel this real. Especially when Reeve is planning on leaving Vermont after the summer.
We agreed to one night. We negotiated a fake relationship. But I’m the one who broke our terms. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love and he was never supposed to be so unforgettable.
Living in Sydney, Australia with her family, Marley Valentine is a USA Today bestselling author and a former social worker who uses her past experiences to write real life, emotional and heartfelt contemporary romance.
She enjoys mixing it up with both M/F and M/M Romance incorporating all forms of life, lust and love as her characters embark on their journey to their happily ever after.
When she’s not busy writing her own stories, she spends most of her time immersed in the words of her favourite authors.
Marley enjoys interacting with her readers so please feel free to reach out to her via Facebook, Instagram, email and/or subscribe to her newsletter.
It’s a tale as old as time: the bad boy meets the good girl. He makes a daring proposition. Then the boy gets a mysterious head injury and loses a year of his life…
The first time I meet Rickie, I don’t know what to make of him. The second time we meet, he doesn’t remember the six hours we spent together. Or standing me up afterward.
I’m not the same, either. I’ve got secrets. I’ve told lies. Bad boys aren’t my type, anyway. Even the ones with troubled gray eyes.
But now we’re roommates. Cue the awkward moments in the hallway when he’s wearing only a towel and a smile. He’s determined to win me over, and his talented hands weaken my resolve.
It’s all fun and games until my past rears its ugly head and his secrets come to light, shaking our fragile connection, maybe even breaking it…
Note: this is Daphne Shipley’s story. Contents include Vermonty ice cream flavors, nerdy awkwardness, tattoos, and a playboy grandpa.
I read all the way to the highway exit, but I only get halfway through the first article. It’s dense and full of statistical analysis that’s over my head.
By the time Rickie rolls down the exit ramp, I feel the onset of a full-blown case of imposter syndrome. Dr. Drummond is expecting me to be sharp. What if they ask me to work on this type of analysis, and I can’t do it?
“I see the ice cream place,” Rickie says. “But there’s no entrance back onto the highway. What the hell?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I mumble. “It’s three miles down a side road to exit 6.” I close the journal with a sigh. I feel so panicky right now. I’ve always tried to be the smartest girl in the room. But it’s all an act. I’m obviously the worst kind of dunce—the kind that can’t see her own mistakes until it’s way too late. (See: the last twelve months of my life.)
Is it normal to have a midlife crisis right before your twenty-first birthday?
Rickie rolls into the gravel parking lot of the Dreamy Creemee and puts the truck in a shady spot. He rolls down the windows before killing the engine. It’s getting toward dinner hour, so there aren’t many people here. Just a couple of moms pushing toddlers on the swing set.
And I’m quietly having a panic attack in the passenger seat.
I take a slow but shaky breath. Do I even want ice cream? Is there a flavor on that signboard that could take me out of my own head? I reach for the door handle, but Rickie stops me.
“Look,” he says. “About that time we shared a ride home from Connecticut…”
“No,” I say forcefully. If he makes me relive that embarrassing experience, I might lose my cool. “Just forget it, okay? So what if you ghosted me?”
His eyes widen. But my rant is only picking up steam.
“None of that matters. I didn’t even blame you. And the only way I’m going to make it through this year is if I put Connecticut behind me, okay? Just leave it alone.”
My voice cracks on that last word, and I realize that I might actually cry. Which is a thing I never do. But Harkness College was my dream, and I blew it. My damn eyes get hot and my throat constricts.
“S-so just forget it,” I squeak. “It’s already in the past. It can just stay there.”
Rickie’s gray eyes are soft now. And they’re moving closer. To my utter surprise, he leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips.
So soft, my brain sputters.
“Shh,” he says against my lips. His kiss is warm and unhurried. Like a ray of sunshine when you’re shivering.
For once, my squirrel brain forgets to scurry. And I just let it happen. He kisses me again. It’s still gentle. His bright eyes measure me. I don’t know what he sees. But whatever it is, he decides he likes it.
Those soft lips brush and press. Again. And I’m only human. Rickie’s surprisingly tender kiss has caught me at a vulnerable moment. I lean in, experimenting with the slide and pressure of his mouth against mine. A sizzle of heat flashes across my skin. It’s the strangest sensation—as if he’s transferred an ounce of that devil-may-care attitude across the steering column and right into my soul. I drink him in, lips parted. Ready for him to take it further.
But then it ends. Rickie sits back, his head cocked to the side, as if in deep contemplation.
I’m bereft. “Wh-what was that for?” I stammer.
I expect a smirk. But his expression remains soft. “You seemed a little freaked. So I brought you to an ice cream place on a hot summer’s day. But that wasn’t enough, apparently. You needed even more distraction. So I gave it to you. And I’m good at that. A real specialist.”
Replying is impossible. All I can do is sit here and try to process that kiss. That lovely kiss.
It’s a tale as old as time: the bad boy meets the good girl. He makes a daring proposition. Then the boy gets a mysterious head injury and loses a year of his life…
The first time I meet Rickie, I don’t know what to make of him. The second time we meet, he doesn’t remember the six hours we spent together. Or standing me up afterward.
I’m not the same, either. I’ve got secrets. I’ve told lies. Bad boys aren’t my type, anyway. Even the ones with troubled gray eyes.
But now we’re roommates. Cue the awkward moments in the hallway when he’s wearing only a towel and a smile. He’s determined to win me over, and his talented hands weaken my resolve.
It’s all fun and games until my past rears its ugly head and his secrets come to light, shaking our fragile connection, maybe even breaking it…
Note: this is Daphne Shipley’s story. Contents include Vermonty ice cream flavors, nerdy awkwardness, tattoos, and a playboy grandpa.
I read all the way to the highway exit, but I only get halfway through the first article. It’s dense and full of statistical analysis that’s over my head.
By the time Rickie rolls down the exit ramp, I feel the onset of a full-blown case of imposter syndrome. Dr. Drummond is expecting me to be sharp. What if they ask me to work on this type of analysis, and I can’t do it?
“I see the ice cream place,” Rickie says. “But there’s no entrance back onto the highway. What the hell?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I mumble. “It’s three miles down a side road to exit 6.” I close the journal with a sigh. I feel so panicky right now. I’ve always tried to be the smartest girl in the room. But it’s all an act. I’m obviously the worst kind of dunce—the kind that can’t see her own mistakes until it’s way too late. (See: the last twelve months of my life.)
Is it normal to have a midlife crisis right before your twenty-first birthday?
Rickie rolls into the gravel parking lot of the Dreamy Creemee and puts the truck in a shady spot. He rolls down the windows before killing the engine. It’s getting toward dinner hour, so there aren’t many people here. Just a couple of moms pushing toddlers on the swing set.
And I’m quietly having a panic attack in the passenger seat.
I take a slow but shaky breath. Do I even want ice cream? Is there a flavor on that signboard that could take me out of my own head? I reach for the door handle, but Rickie stops me.
“Look,” he says. “About that time we shared a ride home from Connecticut…”
“No,” I say forcefully. If he makes me relive that embarrassing experience, I might lose my cool. “Just forget it, okay? So what if you ghosted me?”
His eyes widen. But my rant is only picking up steam.
“None of that matters. I didn’t even blame you. And the only way I’m going to make it through this year is if I put Connecticut behind me, okay? Just leave it alone.”
My voice cracks on that last word, and I realize that I might actually cry. Which is a thing I never do. But Harkness College was my dream, and I blew it. My damn eyes get hot and my throat constricts.
“S-so just forget it,” I squeak. “It’s already in the past. It can just stay there.”
Rickie’s gray eyes are soft now. And they’re moving closer. To my utter surprise, he leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips.
So soft, my brain sputters.
“Shh,” he says against my lips. His kiss is warm and unhurried. Like a ray of sunshine when you’re shivering.
For once, my squirrel brain forgets to scurry. And I just let it happen. He kisses me again. It’s still gentle. His bright eyes measure me. I don’t know what he sees. But whatever it is, he decides he likes it.
Those soft lips brush and press. Again. And I’m only human. Rickie’s surprisingly tender kiss has caught me at a vulnerable moment. I lean in, experimenting with the slide and pressure of his mouth against mine. A sizzle of heat flashes across my skin. It’s the strangest sensation—as if he’s transferred an ounce of that devil-may-care attitude across the steering column and right into my soul. I drink him in, lips parted. Ready for him to take it further.
But then it ends. Rickie sits back, his head cocked to the side, as if in deep contemplation.
I’m bereft. “Wh-what was that for?” I stammer.
I expect a smirk. But his expression remains soft. “You seemed a little freaked. So I brought you to an ice cream place on a hot summer’s day. But that wasn’t enough, apparently. You needed even more distraction. So I gave it to you. And I’m good at that. A real specialist.”
Replying is impossible. All I can do is sit here and try to process that kiss. That lovely kiss.
I mean, Murph’s special. He’s funny and flamboyant and full of life.
While I’m straight, even I can tell these guys aren’t good enough for him.
I had to yell at one date, toss another one out the door, and throw a beer in another’s face.
Kind of embarrassing, really. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.
I ask my sister what’s wrong with me and she says I’m jealous.
Jealous? Please. Me?
Come on.
Only thing is, I hate the thought of Murph kissing any guy. Ever.
Except, maybe … me?
Undone is a contemporary m/m romance about a dreamy insurance agent that might not be as straight as he thinks, an adorable bartender who adds sparkle wherever he goes, and maybe one or two jokes about swords.
What if Romeo wore hockey skates, and Juliet was raised on a farm next door?
As a life-long Vermonter, there are three beliefs I’ve always held true:
Our family farm is everything 2. Hockey is a close second 3. The Todds next door are our sworn enemies
But this season will test everything I stand for.
I have an illicit side job that could cost me my hockey scholarship. And now Maggie Todd knows my secret. She’s waiting for the right moment to use it against me. But every time I face off against her, I learn things I shouldn’t want to know. Like how deeply her competitive streak runs, and how sexy that is. And how easy it is to make her blush… everywhere.
An Adler and a Todd cannot be lovers. Breaking that rule is like pulling a pin on a grenade–everything in my life could blow up. Can we surrender to these feelings… or will our families’ feud make us its next casualty?
I’m banished to Vermont for a scandal that wasn’t my fault, and broke because my famous father cut me off. And did I mention my roommate stole my boyfriend? Yeah, I’m loving my Moo U experience.
Now I need a job, because this gel manicure won’t upkeep itself. The only available option is the last one I’d ever want–a job as the hockey team’s equipment manager. My plan is to do the bare minimum, get paid, and find my way back into my father’s good graces.
I will not get involved with a hockey player, no matter how hot. They’re cocky. And obnoxious. I know their type, and I’m not willing to risk getting hurt again. Until Lex Vonne glides into my life looking like sin on a stick.
He thinks I’m a spoiled brat. I think he’s using me to get ahead. But the fire I feel when we’re together is like a slapshot to my heart
Jonah Daniels has enough work preparing for his hockey season without spending time interviewing a roommate to help share expenses. So when some dude answers J.D.’s ad and agrees to his terms, he puts a key under the mat and leaves for practice.
What he doesn’t expect is that his new roommate is not a dude at all, but an overtalkative, energetic hottie. What’s worse? She’s the younger sister of his friend on the team, and she’s sworn him to secrecy.
Ryann Reiner needs a place to live, stat. After an incident at the dorms that almost tanked her scholarship, Ryann wants a boring roommate who’ll leave her alone. J.D. almost fits the bill. He lives and breathes hockey, just like her brother, and he wouldn’t know a joke unless it hip-checked him against the boards.
He’s also gorgeous. And broody. And he looks fine on laundry day, in too little clothing. Soon, late-night study sessions turn into dangerous flirting. And then a kiss turns into more. But they’re determined to keep things in the feelings-free zone.
Until lines blur and tensions rise when Ryann’s brother learns the truth. And both their hearts are skating on thin ice…
What if Romeo wore hockey skates, and Juliet was raised on a farm next door?
As a life-long Vermonter, there are three beliefs I’ve always held true:
Our family farm is everything 2. Hockey is a close second 3. The Todds next door are our sworn enemies
But this season will test everything I stand for.
I have an illicit side job that could cost me my hockey scholarship. And now Maggie Todd knows my secret. She’s waiting for the right moment to use it against me. But every time I face off against her, I learn things I shouldn’t want to know. Like how deeply her competitive streak runs, and how sexy that is. And how easy it is to make her blush… everywhere.
An Adler and a Todd cannot be lovers. Breaking that rule is like pulling a pin on a grenade–everything in my life could blow up. Can we surrender to these feelings… or will our families’ feud make us its next casualty?
I’m banished to Vermont for a scandal that wasn’t my fault, and broke because my famous father cut me off. And did I mention my roommate stole my boyfriend? Yeah, I’m loving my Moo U experience.
Now I need a job, because this gel manicure won’t upkeep itself. The only available option is the last one I’d ever want–a job as the hockey team’s equipment manager. My plan is to do the bare minimum, get paid, and find my way back into my father’s good graces.
I will not get involved with a hockey player, no matter how hot. They’re cocky. And obnoxious. I know their type, and I’m not willing to risk getting hurt again. Until Lex Vonne glides into my life looking like sin on a stick.
He thinks I’m a spoiled brat. I think he’s using me to get ahead. But the fire I feel when we’re together is like a slapshot to my heart
Jonah Daniels has enough work preparing for his hockey season without spending time interviewing a roommate to help share expenses. So when some dude answers J.D.’s ad and agrees to his terms, he puts a key under the mat and leaves for practice.
What he doesn’t expect is that his new roommate is not a dude at all, but an overtalkative, energetic hottie. What’s worse? She’s the younger sister of his friend on the team, and she’s sworn him to secrecy.
Ryann Reiner needs a place to live, stat. After an incident at the dorms that almost tanked her scholarship, Ryann wants a boring roommate who’ll leave her alone. J.D. almost fits the bill. He lives and breathes hockey, just like her brother, and he wouldn’t know a joke unless it hip-checked him against the boards.
He’s also gorgeous. And broody. And he looks fine on laundry day, in too little clothing. Soon, late-night study sessions turn into dangerous flirting. And then a kiss turns into more. But they’re determined to keep things in the feelings-free zone.
Until lines blur and tensions rise when Ryann’s brother learns the truth. And both their hearts are skating on thin ice…
One drunken night and one case of mistaken identity turn a friendship inside out…
You’ve seen the hockey twins around campus–they look identical, but you can tell them apart by their actions. Patrick is the one who’s busy charming women. Paxton is the one in the library.
Until one night when Paxton parties a little harder than usual. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up naked next to Naomi, the girl of his dreams. He bares his heart before an awful realization sets in. He’s not the twin she thought he was…
Naomi is the only child of a hockey legend. Partying hard is the best way she knows how to rebel against her controlling father. After a particularly crazy night, she realizes her big mistake. Her hookup isn’t the guy she’s been crushing on. It’s Paxton, her friend, the guy who gets her, who she can always count on. The guy she’d never want to hurt. And yet, the sex was good. Better than good.
Now she’s wondering if the wrong twin might be the right one after all . . .
Hotshot hockey star Patrick Graham has been groomed for the pros since before he could walk. Fast forward to his junior year of college, and he’s having the time of his life. What could be better than pucks, partying, and having his pick of campus women? But if Patrick doesn’t buckle down and get his grades up, he could find himself benched for the championships. Could a beautiful brainiac be the solution to his problems?
Nineteen-year-old Master’s student Ellie McGinn could do so many things with her biology degree, but her mother is pushing her toward a future she doesn’t want. Tutoring a hockey hottie seems like the perfect opportunity to start making her own choices and living life on her own terms.
When learning turns to yearning, will they be ready to face the heat and heartache that love can bring?
There’s no halftime in hockey, but maybe there’s one in love…
Drunk dialing your girlfriend to tell her that you didn’t really cheat is a bad idea–a lesson Seb Hunter learned the hard way. It was no surprise when she cut him completely out of her life. Now he’s finally moved on, and he’s looking forward to sophomore year at Moo U. Until his ex arrives on campus.
For goalie Faith Devereaux, cheating is a hard pass. She grew up knowing all too well how destructive infidelity can be. She’s gotten over Seb and picked the college of her dreams. The fact that he’s a student there will not be a problem. Hockey is her priority. Not guys, not dating, definitely not exes.
But when an exhibition game forces them into close proximity, it isn’t long before their old attraction flares. Regaining trust is hard, though, when the heart plays a good defensive game.
But when the goal is love, one more shot might be all they need.
I’m not gonna lie, being a twenty-one-year-old virgin is ridiculously embarrassing, bordering on pitiful. And if there’s anything I hate, it’s being pitied. So I’m getting my V-card punched this semester. It’s time to stop dreaming about being swept off my feet. Instead, I’m planning a down-and-dirty one-nighter with a certain hot hockey player I’ve been eyeing.
Hudson
As a top draft pick from a family of hockey royalty, I’m under so much pressure that I’m losing my edge on the ice. I need something to snap my brain out of this self-destructive stress-loop. Like a hot night of fun. That’s where Indi Briscoe from my photography class comes in. She’s flirtatious and funny one moment, sweetly shy the next. But then she wants me to pop her cherry.
Jesus. Did I mention the pressure thing? Am I crazy for starting something with her? Or would I be a fool for saying no?
Warning: this standalone novel contains heat, heart, familial expectations, extreme milkshakes, and a hamster with deep thoughts.
Gabe wants Alec between the sheets…too bad Alec’s undercover already…
Rich kid. Party boy. Gabe is tired of the labels. He’s a smart guy, but ever since he got kicked out of grad school, people are only interested in his no-limit credit card and his pierced ears…and other places.
Tall, dark, and scowling Alec hates Vermont, with its artisanal-freaking-everything and its irritating people. To be fair, most people irritate Alec, including the FBI director who sent him here to investigate a smuggling scheme involving yoga mats.
When one of the cutest twinks Alec’s ever seen takes an interest, Alec knows there’s an ulterior motive. No one with multi-colored hair, piercings, and an ass like that would want boring, serious Alec. The kid must be up to no good. Either way, Alec can’t blow his cover. If only he could keep his hands off of Gabe long enough to find out what he’s up to…
Can they ignore their explosive chemistry long enough to foil a smuggling ring? Or will their budding relationship sink faster than a yacht full of contraband?
Brent Weyland was the life of the party until an injury ended his hockey career. Now he’s retreated alone to a lakefront house, trying to make sense of a life and body that don’t feel like his anymore.
Jon Norquist was happily married right up until he wasn’t. Now a single father in his forties, he’s trying to figure out what comes next. In the meantime, he pours his heartache and regret into the lyrics he sings for the wine bar crowd a couple of nights a week.
When a friend coaxes Brent out for a night of wine and music, he puts Brent and Jon on a collision course. Their chemistry is instantaneous. Jon gives Brent’s battered body a much-needed remedial lesson in pleasure. And Brent gives Jon a reason to smile again.
Multiple reasons, actually. Neither man wants anything serious, but love has a habit of showing up whether it’s welcome or not. No matter how hard they try, the two can’t help having feelings for each other, even as life continues to throw them curveballs.
But they’ve both got baggage to unpack and hurt to move past, and if they can’t leave their pasts in the past, they might just miss out on an amazing future.
BOOKLOVER BY J.E. BIRK
Release Date: March 29, 2021 Pre-Order here: COMING SOON Add to Goodreads here: https://bit.ly/2M0GgOE
Jamie Morin’s college GPA drops every time a cow breaks through a fence, but he’s determined to get his degree and keep his parents’ Vermont dairy farm afloat. He’d rather be reading than milking, but he can’t let his family down…not the way his brother did. So the last thing he needs is distraction in the form of an irresistible bookseller with a mysterious backstory.
Briar Nord has a lifetime of experience proving that happily-ever-afters only happen in his favorite books. But his luck might be changing. He’s got a great job at a bookstore, and he lives in a city that puts maple syrup on everything. But Briar knows not to trust anything–or anyone–too closely, and that includes a gorgeous farm boy with soulful eyes and too many obligations.
When Jamie joins Briar’s romance novel book club, they both feel an instant connection and soon they’re turning pages long into the night. But Briar’s past was bound to catch up with him. Sometimes, though, it takes two heroes to write a new ending . . .
FLIPCUP BY KIM HARTFIELD
Release Date: April 5, 2021 Pre-Order here: COMING SOON Add to Goodreads here: https://bit.ly/3inwD8w
After being rejected one too many times, Chelsea makes a bold vow: No more men. Her friends doubt a boy-crazy party girl can handle not dating for a year, but that only makes Chelsea more determined.
Tara has made a vow, too. After growing up in foster care and suppressing herself to please others, she’s going to live her truth. When she sees a beautiful woman, she’ll make her attraction known.
Chelsea appreciates Tara’s flirtatious compliments, not to mention her androgynous beauty. There’s a loophole in Chelsea’s vow, and it’s more tempting every day. Could swearing off men lead Chelsea to the perfect woman?
HIDEAWAY BY RACHEL LACEY
Release Date: April 5, 2021 Pre-Order here: COMING SOON Add to Goodreads here: https://bit.ly/2XOsNMt
After becoming an inadvertent viral sensation—and losing her job and her girlfriend as a result— Phoebe Shaw retreats to Vermont. Renovating her late grandmother’s cabin into a vacation rental seems like the perfect way to lie low for a while. But the last person she expects to encounter on the property is the woman whose kiss was her teenage sexual awakening . . . and whom she’s never quite forgotten.
Taylor Donovan has been hiking on the trails behind the Shaw family’s cabin her whole life. As children, Taylor and Phoebe were best friends before sharing a secret summer romance when they were sixteen, which left Taylor brokenhearted when Phoebe fled at the end of the summer. Now the property has become Taylor’s home away from home, and she wants nothing more than to convince the Shaws to sell it to her. But Phoebe’s return puts a crimp in those plans–and brings back old feelings she thought she’d overcome.
Of all the things Phoebe regrets, leaving Taylor is at the top of the list, but Taylor is determined to protect her heart. Yet the pull between them is stronger than ever. This time around, will love stay hidden . . . or finally see the light of day?
![Waylaid (True North Book 8) by [Sarina Bowen]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51hJhtrajzS.jpg)
Kay Daniels Romance 