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Friday, November 30, 2018

Christmas Lane by Amy Aislin




Christmas Lane by Amy Aislin


Series: Lighthouse Bay #1

Publisher: self-published

Release Date (Print & Ebook): November 29, 2018

Length (Print & Ebook): approx. 65,000 words

Genre: m/m contemporary romance

Tropes: May/December, small town

Cover design: Jay Aheer at Simply Defined Art






All buy links or pre-order links:













Synopsis: 


It’s recent college graduate Zach Greenfeld’s favorite time of the year and he’s just received a temporary gig planning Lighthouse Bay’s Christmas parade. Not only does it speak to his penchant for organization, it also puts him face to face on a daily basis with his unrequited crush—Holland Stone. But his new job starts off in disaster when the most important float—Santa’s sleigh—gets damaged. 



Holland needs to win the Lighthouse Bay Christmas parade float competition in order to grow his new dollhouse-making business. The prize is an article in a major city newspaper, and nothing beats free advertising. Except, eager to help the adorable parade organizer, he volunteers to help fix Santa’s sleigh, leaving no time to work on his own float, and putting his prize at risk.



Damaged floats, snowstorms, and a last-minute parade emergency force Zach and Holland closer than ever. All they need is a little bit of Christmas magic to help them realize they belong together. 










Excerpt:


“Where’d this come from?”


Zach sipped his tea. “I dunno.”


The lines around Holland’s eyes were more pronounced when he squinted. “You don’t know, huh?”


Shaking his head, Zach hid a smile behind his mug.


“Hmm.” Holland brought it up to his ear and shook the package gently. “Then I guess whoever left it won’t mind if I open it.”


“I’m sure they won’t.”


Grinning, Holland tore into the snowman wrapping paper. He kept sneaking peeks at Zach, smile on his face, eyes full of life and laughter. With the color in his cheeks and the way he barely paused for breath before lifting the lid on the box and pulling out the small tube nestled inside, he looked like the grown-up version of a three-year-old on Christmas morning.


“Wood glue?” Holland said, holding up the tube.


“Maybe someone thought it might come in handy. Since you build dollhouses and all.”


Holland hummed. “Thoughtful, yet functional.” He sat next to Zach again and squeezed Zach’s thigh. “Thank you. You don’t have to keep buying me gifts.”


“I know.” Zach threaded their fingers together. “But I like the look on your face when you unwrap them.”


Holland kissed the back of Zach’s hand and Zach’s heart jumped. “Ready to head out?”


Zach was putting on his scarf when he spotted it, a flat, slim package, roughly three inches by six, wrapped in paper with tiny snowflakes on it, sitting on his desk. “What’s this?”


Holland grinned at him as he shrugged into his coat. “I dunno.”


“Really? You don’t know?” Zach slipped a nail underneath the tape. “Think whoever left it will mind if I open it?”


“I think they’d want you to.”


Zach snorted a laugh and opened his gift, revealing a pocket day planner for next year. “A calendar?”


Standing on the other side of Zach’s desk, Holland bent over to get a better look at it, forehead furrowed. Yeah, he wasn’t fooling anyone with that innocently confused expression. “Someone must know you pretty well.”


“What makes you say that?”


Holland turned his head toward the wall, where Zach had three different calendars pinned. Then he rearranged a couple of items on Zach’s desk, uncovering two separate day planners. “And I bet you have a pocket-sized one in your pocket,” he said.


Busted.

Reviewed by

5 star


If your not in the Christmas spirit you definitely need to read this book. It's probably by far one of my favorite holiday reads this year.
Not only do you get the small town feel of Christmas, you get to see a develop and grow, you get to see two people who have lost hope find love. Geantednit seems like everything happens over a short amount of time, it doesnt feel rushed. I love Zack and Holland. But I really wanna read about Clark and Dev and see if they get their HEA as well!




About Amy Aislin:


Amy started writing on a rainy day in fourth grade when her class was forced to stay inside for recess. Tales of adventures with her classmates quickly morphed into tales of adventures with the characters in her head. Based in the suburbs of Toronto, Amy is a marketer/fundraiser at a large environmental non-profit in Toronto by day, and a writer by night. Book enthusiast, animal lover and (very) amateur photographer, her interests are many and varied, including travelling, astronomy, ecology, and baking. She binge watches too much anime, and loves musical theater, Julie Andrews, the Backstreet Boys, and her hometown of Oakville, Ontario. 






Connect with Amy Aislin:

































Giveaway: 
Amy is giving away a Christmas Lane prize pack, including a signed paperback of Christmas Lane, a personalized Christmas tree ornament, vanilla-flavored loose leaf tea, and a character art print.







Thursday, November 29, 2018

BLOOD FOR THE SPILLING (WARLOCK IN TRAINING SERIES) BY TJ NICHOLS







DSP Publications author TJ Nichols has a new MM paranormal book out in the Warlock in Training series: Blood for the Spilling.



Sheets of ice are spreading across the human world, ushering in an ice age as the magic drained from Demonside turns that world into a desert. Angus and reluctant warlock Terrance have defected from Vinland to the Mayan Empire—a land of dark and potent magic. But the Mayans aren’t offering sanctuary for free.



Nor is the world willing to stand back as Vinland attacks, and the backlash will affect all magic users.



Mage Saka has no tribe. He is now just another refugee fleeing the dying Demonside. He knows the conflict brewing now will be worse than the first demon war. Countries are banding together—not just against Vinland, but against all magic. Where will the powerful Mayan Empire stand?



Angus might have the power to fight Vinland and the Warlock College, but the cost will be terrible. Saka is torn between helping Angus and stopping him. And Terrance would do anything for Angus, but he’s terrified of the man Angus is becoming, even as Saka is warming to the idea of a relationship between the three of them.



No matter what choice they make, victory will be bittersweet, and when the ash settles and the snow melts, nothing will be the same.










Giveaway



TJ is giving away a $10 DSP Publications gift card with this post – enter via Rafflecopter.









Excerpt



Angus had been returned to his apartment and ignored for the last few days. Was Cadmael hoping the isolation would make him more compliant?



The air hummed with insect life as though nothing were wrong with the world, but the sky was an odd, sickly green. Angus had been watching from his balcony as the sun set. He had nothing more pressing to do with his time, and he’d yet to work out how to escape from his tower prison.



Not that anyone called it that.



The magic dampeners were featherlight on his skin, not like the ones in Vinland, and he was tempted to experiment to see what would happen if he did some magic. Would alarms go off? Would he get a visit from Cadmael?



He was in no rush to see the priest.



He ran his finger along the balcony railing. Terrance was out there somewhere, Saka was unreachable, and every breath hurt. He’d lost the people he cared most about. What was the point? What exactly was he fighting for?



He didn’t give a shit about the correct use of magic, but he believed everything should be kept in balance. He didn’t really care who was in power in Vinland as long as they weren’t screwing it up for everyone else.



Maybe he was just fighting for himself and the right to live his life the way he wanted. In that case, he was doing a shit job of that too.



Suddenly the hairs on his arms drew tight and the temperature dropped.



He lifted his gaze to the green, boiling sky as a flash tore across. He shielded his eyes with his hand, and the familiar feel of magic tingled across his skin as though he were raising power. It had been so long that he gathered it to him just to feel the rush. The scar on his chest warmed and then burned.



Then the breath was taken from his lungs.



His back hit the glass door, and the building shook as though the magic-laced air were trying to pulverize him.



Panic made him throw up a circle in defense, but it wasn’t enough. Sirens and alarms were going off. Then as quickly as it had hit, the wave of magic started to recede and drag everything with it. The magic Angus had pulled to himself wanted to flow out of his body.



That was not a good thing.



Nails scratched the inside of his veins trying to tear all magic from him. It hurt worse than Demonside slowly draining him, but the result would be the same. He resisted and used everything he had to keep the magic within him. When his body wasn’t strong enough anymore, he reached out to the building, to the magical dampeners and the wiring beyond. Light bulbs hissed and cracked, and the building shook as though it were being ripped in two.



His teeth were going to be pulled from his head, and his nail beds ached, but if he let go, even for a breath, he was dead.



Whatever was happening was trying to kill him by taking the magic that was part of him. He hadn’t survived for this long to be taken out by some kind of storm. He pressed his nails into his palm deeply enough to cut. Drawing blood didn’t bother him anymore. His own had been spilled so often. He peeled himself off the door long enough to run his palm and his blood over the railing to create another line of defense.



The dragging sensation faded. The building still quaked, and other buildings did too. It was as though the ground were trembling.



Was there a spell in the storm to harvest magic?



His breath came in hard pants, and he was on his knees by the time everything went still and the sky brightened to pink. Alarms echoed across Uxmal, and his apartment was ringing as the dampener screeched its warning.



His head was ready to split open, and red stained the front of his shirt. He peeled it away from his skin to see that the mark Saka had carved into him had been torn open as though the wound were fresh.



Around him, the metal and stone glowed as though lit from within. He should go inside, but it was too noisy in there. He’d be better off trying to heal himself outside. Something hot and sticky hit his lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, not surprised to see more blood staining his skin.



He lay down on the warm, glowing patio to rest.



That he was alive seemed amazing, but if that storm happened again tonight, he would be fucked.







Author Bio






TJ Nichols is an avid runner and martial arts enthusiast who first started writing as child. Many years later while working as a civil designer, TJ decided to pick up a pen and start writing again. Having grown up reading thrillers and fantasy novels, it’s no surprise that mixing danger and magic comes so easily. Writing urban fantasy allows TJ to bring magic to the every day.



With two cats acting as supervisors, TJ has gone from designing roads to building worlds and wouldn’t have it any other way. After traveling all over the world and Australia, TJ now lives in Perth, Western Australia.







Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/TJNichols.author/

















































































































Wednesday, November 28, 2018

Blog Tour, Review & Giveaway- Mr, Winterbourne's Christmas by Joanna Chambers




Length: 30,000 words approx.

Cover Design: Natasha Snow

Winterbourne Series

Volume #1 - Introducing Mr. Winterbourne - CURRENTLY FREE - Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb


Lysander Winterbourne has been living happily at Edgeley Park for the last eighteen months. By day he is Adam Freeman's estate manager, by night, his lover...but Adam never speaks of his feelings and Lysander has no idea whether their relationship is any more than a convenient arrangement for Adam.


When the two men are invited to Winterbourne Abbey for a family Christmas, matters quickly come to a head. Snowed in at the Abbey with a house full of guests, Lysander has to face up to shocking revelations, long-held secrets and a choice he never expected to have to make...







Reviewed by




Reading Introducing Mr. Winterboarne, Joanna Chambers was a new to me author, and I was pleasantly surprised by her writing style, so coming into this book was no hardship. Joanna does not disappoint either, I loved everything about this story. Well, except Lord Winterboarne, he's kind of a self entitled dick. 

This story takes place a year after book 1. 
Lysander has been taking care of Adams estate, bringing the rundown Edgeley Park back up to snuff. Lysander has to go back to Winterbourne Abbey for Christmas, and oddly this year, Adam gets an invite as well. Which they both kind of guess it means Lysander's father must be up to something. 

I loved the story of all the people gathering for the holiday, the going out and picking the Holly, boughs, and mistletoe for the decorations. The side characters are a joy as well. From Adams friend Johnny, to Lysander's BFF Perry And his sister. Even all Lysander's siblings and especially his great aunt. 

This is another great holiday story to get you in the spirit of the season. I also suggest reading it if you liked the first and want to continue on, as I do believe there is something there for a new, or continued on story between some of the some characters mentioned above :) 


Author Bio




Joanna Chambers always wanted to write. She spent over 20 years staring at blank sheets of paper and despairing of ever writing a single word. In between staring at blank sheets of paper, she studied law, met her husband and had two children. Whilst nursing her first child, she rediscovered her love of romance and found her muse. Joanna lives in Scotland with her family and finds time to write by eschewing sleep and popular culture.






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Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Loving a Warrior by Melanie Hansen




Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK

Length: 77,300 words approx.

Publisher: Carina Press

Blurb

BUD/S: six months of the most intense training there is. It’s survival of the toughest, and Matt Knytych is determined to come out the other side a navy SEAL.



Distraction is life or death. And just the sight of former marine Shane Hovland is enough to shake Matt’s concentration.




Shane came to BUD/S training ready to prove himself—again. Semper Fi is forever, but he needs a new start. Not this dangerous heat with a man he barely knows.




Everything they’ve ever wanted is riding on a thin, punishing line. And they’ll have to fight for more than just each other if they want to make it through intact.




After all, the only easy day was yesterday.




5 star


Oh man, once I started reading this story it was super hard to stop and adult (work,sleep etc) . 

What are the odds that 2 gay men end up in the same BUDS/Seal training program and are attracted to one another without the other knowing the person is gay? Let me introduce you to Shane and Matt. Both from different walks of life, both working towards the same goal, to call themselves part of the Navy's elite group, a Navy Seal. 

We get friendly banter, fierce competition, hurtful words and strong feelings. 


Matt from North Dakota wanting to follow in his uncles footsteps, Shane from Florida who feels he has something to prove. These two, whew let's just say it gets hot. Throw into the mix Shane's sister Alexis and her drama she finds herself in and you've got one hell of a story! 


I definitely wouldn't frown if the author gave us more of these two.



Melanie Hansen doesn’t get nearly enough sleep. She loves all things coffee-related, including collecting mugs from every place she’s visited. After spending eighteen years as a military spouse, Melanie definitely considers herself a moving expert. She has lived and worked all over the country, and hopes to bring these rich and varied life experiences to the love stories she gets up in the wee hours to write. On her off-time, you can find Melanie watching baseball, reading or spending time with her husband and two teenage sons.




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Neutral Zone by RJ Scott & VL Locey





Cover Design: Meredith Russell

Length: 40,000 words approx.

Harrisburg Railers Series

Book #1 - Changing Lines - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #2 - First Season - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #3 - Deep Edge - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #4 - Poke Check - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #5 - Last Defense - Amazon US | Amazon UK
Book #6 - Goal Line - Amazon US | Amazon UK

Blurb

Tennant Rowe has it all, a boyfriend he adores, a loving family, and a career on the rise. He’s sure of his place in the world, and the future can only get brighter. Then one night, in a flash of skates and sticks, life changes forever. Getting back on the ice is Ten’s priority, and experts tell him that it’s just a matter of time.



Jared watches his lover fall in more ways than one, and when tragedy strikes, even the strongest of relationships are tested. Ten is strong, but Jared has to be stronger to help the man who holds his heart. Only, he has to admit that maybe it isn’t just him who can make Ten whole again.



Jared and Ten’s love is forever, but the rocky path to the romantic Christmas Jared had planned may be hard to travel.


Excerpt



Ten



Karma. It’s a real bitch. Just ask anyone.



I’d left my man and my team behind in Harrisburg and flown to—get this—fucking Tucson, Arizona, to begin treatment for my traumatic head injury.



The same city the Raptors played in.



I could open the blinds in my room here in the Draper Neurological Rehabilitation and Performance Center and see the glistening mirrored sides of the Santa Catalina Arena. Funny shit right there. Four blocks over, the Raptors were on the ice for morning skate, and I was here, trying to get my brain healed enough so I could maybe play my game again someday.



Shit, right now I’d be happy to be able to speak or read normally.



“Ho, ho, ho,” I growled, closing the drapes, then pulling my sunglasses off and tossing them to the bed. Living behind sunglasses and blinds sucked. Headaches sucked. Slurred speech sucked. Seeing the pity in the eyes of my boyfriend and family and teammates sucked. Christmas with sand and cactus sucked. I wanted to cry. I wanted to be back home with Mads, decorating our tree and shaking my presents. I wanted to be shopping for gifts for my boyfriend, my mother and father, for my brothers, and for Stan and Adler and all the Railers. I wanted things to be the way they had been before that night. Tears threatened, but I held them in. Crying only made my head hurt worse.



So, I padded out of my room and made my way to breakfast and the first of several rounds of rehab I’d be facing today. I’d been here one day and had come to realize that my brain was now as well-known with the neurologists here as my face was back in Harrisburg. This was the place for athletes to come when they were battling CTE-related brain issues. Most of the men here were older, retired players, lots of football players. I mean lots of them. I’d met three other hockey players so far, all retired, all fighting to keep a step ahead of the disease taking over their brains. Sometimes, late at night, when I was lying in bed, I’d get scared for myself and all the other guys on my team. I worried about Mads. God knows how many concussions he’d had when he was playing. Add that to his heart shit and… well, I worried about stuff now. Lots more stuff than I had before the night my head met the ice, sans helmet.



The facility held a hundred and fifty people, and not all of us were athletes. Lots of patients had come here after car accidents or other catastrophic injuries. There were head injuries and spinal cord injuries being healed. The staff seemed nice, confident in their ability to nurse me back to my old self or as close as we could get. The halls were bright and airy, the food excellent, and the medical staff top-notch. And yes, it was expensive and elite and the cream of the crop. Which was why Mads had stubbornly pushed me into coming here after my initial rehab had been completed. Two weeks at the facility, a couple of weeks back home for the holidays, then back for another four weeks. Then maybe we’d talk about hockey.



“Hey, you’re Tennant Rowe, right?”



I skidded to a halt outside one of a dozen sun-rooms. As though people in Arizona didn’t get enough sun just stepping outside? They needed to make rooms for sun? A tall, burly black man about my age ran at me, hand out. I smiled up at him, trying to pull some information about him from my cloudy memory banks.



“I’m Declan Fidler, cornerback for the Temple Owls.”



“Ah, cool, hey man.” We shook hands. God, he was cute. Short hair and a flashy smile, big wide shoulders and inkwork all over his arms. “Sorry to see you here though, dude.”



“Yeah, I know that.” He ran a hand over his hair. “First game of the season too.”



“That sucks,” I said, then released his hand. “I was on my way to the dining hall.”



“I could eat if you want some company.”



“Totally. Be nice to have someone to talk to who’s under forty.”



“I feel that.”



He joined me on the walk to the dining hall, which looked nothing like the hospital cafeteria I’d been expecting when I first saw it yesterday. This place was upmarket. Round tables with cloth covers, thick royal-blue carpeting, windows that ran floor to ceiling, flowering plants in the corners, and a wait staff.



“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this place,” I murmured as I followed Declan to a table by the windows.



“I feel the same way,” he said as we took our seats. “I mean, I grew up wealthy, my father’s the chief justice of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, and I was still blown away.”



“That’s impressive. Did he…?” My brain went totally blank, and I scrambled to find the proper word. “Push. Yeah, did he push to get you in here?” I winced at the slip.



Fuck this shit. Really. Push? How fucking hard it is to recall a word like push?



An older woman in a tidy uniform filled our water glasses, then asked if she could have our room numbers. All the meals here were prepared by nutritionists with an eye to the patients’—athletes in my case—unique needs.



“Big-time. He was adamant about me coming here after the initial rehab. Said that this place would do things to counter the damage that no regular rehab could do. You here for CRT?”



“I uhm…” and that skip again. Fuck. “Dude, sorry, I’m like…” I tapped my temple.



He reached over the table to take my hand. “Ten, man, do not sweat it. You should have seen me when I got here. Barely able to string four words together. Sometimes I still trip up, just like that. But it’s all good. We’re tough motherfuckers. We’ll train our brains.”



“Yeah, train the brains. Cool.”



He gave my hand a squeeze and then released it. “So CRT?”



Our food was served, my platter loaded with scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, a bowl of oatmeal, and chocolate milk. My meds also sat on my tray. Declan’s food was similar, as were the meds in tiny cups lined up for him.



“Cognitive rehab therapy,” he said before shaking out his napkin and laying it over his lap. I did the same and tossed down the pills. I had no idea what they were pumping into me, and I truly didn’t care. As long as they got me back on the ice, they could be dumping Soylent green into my body via the milk. Man, that old movie rocked. What I wouldn’t give to be curled up on the couch with Mads watching it again. “Speech, occupation, and physical therapy. You don’t have any big physical issues, do you?”



“Some weakness on the left side, my arm, but it’s getting better. I hardly drop anything now.”



“That’s good. Once the swelling goes down, things tend to get better.” He took a bite from a slice of whole wheat toast. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here eating with you. Cup winner, LGBT crusader. Thanks for doing that, coming out, being proud and gay. I know how hard that is. My family and team have been amazing about my being queer.”



“Excellent. Glad they’re… fuck, I just. Give me a sec. Yeah, uhm, glad it’s good for you. I’m sorry. Sometimes I can go, like, whole days and barely fuck up, and then I’ll hit this patch where my brain glitches out and… shit. Fuck. Okay, I’m going to shut up for a minute and let my neurons… fire or something.”



“It’s fine. I understand.” And he did. I could see it in his eyes. He totally got it because he was living it too.



I wished everyone else in my life could get it as Declan did. We ate in amiable silence, not that heavy, cloaking pity blanket of quietude that my family draped over me every time I fumbled.



Therapy followed that pleasant breakfast, hours of it. Doctors and nurses, therapists, reading and tests and poking and prodding. Weights and treadmills and medicine balls. Shoving tiny pegs into tinier holes, pet therapy which was actually cool because who didn’t love a dog kiss? Speech therapy was last, and I tanked at it. Totally blew it to shit with my inability to recall one simple phrase. It made me so mad I flipped the table, sending papers and pencils flying. Then, because I had no clue where that outburst had come from, I felt even shittier.



“Tennant, it’s okay,” the woman, who was some fancy kind of advanced speech therapist, said as we picked up the mess I’d made. “Temper flare-ups are common. It’s frustrating not to be able to express yourself. We see that frequently in stroke victims.”



“That was uncool. Just so uncool. I didn’t… it wasn’t… shit.” I dropped to my ass, hands full of work sheets that looked as if a four-year-old had scribbled them down, buried my face in the papers, and wept.



Julie. Yes! That was her name. Julie sat down beside me, rubbed my back, and told me all kinds of reassuring things.



“I’m kind of done for the day,” I told her, and she let me go. I walked the halls, feeling discouraged and sickened with myself. Once I got back to my room, I called home, needing to hear Jared’s voice. As soon as he picked up, I kind of began babbling. A lot of it wasn’t sensible, and it was garbled because I’d have to stop, think, and then restart. But through all of that, Jared listened and never interrupted. When I was done, I fell back onto the bed, exhausted, battling a headache, and sick to death of myself and my stupid brain.



“Sounds like a rough first day,” Jared said. I rolled to my side, tucking my knees up, my gaze on that shiny arena where the Raptors were playing hockey right now. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come out? I can get a hotel room.”



“No, you need to work. The team needs you.”



“You need me as well, Tennant.”



“No, I got this. You can’t do this for me, Mads. Neither can Ryker or Brady or Jamie or my mother. It’s just…” I exhaled through pursed lips. “It’s so much harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I knew it would be hard but fuck sake, I couldn’t recall simple words. How will I ever be able to play if I can’t…” I stopped and calmed myself down. “I hate that this happened. I hate Aarni so much for doing this to me, Jared. I never thought I could ever hate anyone.”



“I know, babe. I wish you’d reconsider and let me come out there.”



He sounded as sick at heart as I was. And truthfully, in that moment, I was close to telling him to fly out. I so needed his arms around me.



“Tell me you love me.”



“I love you.” He drew in a shaky breath. “Do you want me to come out? Just say the word.”



I sat up slowly to avoid a head-rush and the pain that went along with those. “No, I’m good.” I pushed to my feet and went to the window. The sun was setting now, the mirrored sides of the Santa Catalina Arena glowing scarlet and pink. “I’m a tough camper. My Mom said that to me the first time I went to hockey camp.”



“Yeah? How old were you? Five months old or so?”



That made me chuckle. “Nah man, I was like six. And this camp was in Buffalo. I wanted to go so bad. I mean, I can be kind of stubborn when I want something.”



“I’m well aware of that fact,” he replied. Was he sitting down or pacing? Probably pacing because he was tension-riddled over me. “You were persistent about us.”



“Damn right I was. I knew we’d be good.” I touched the pane of glass as a smile of remembrance played on my lips. “I went to that camp, and as soon as my folks dropped me off, I wanted to come home. But Mom wouldn’t let me. She said I had to be a tough camper and that once the homesickness wore off, I’d be glad I stayed.”



“Were you?”



“Yeah, I loved it. Scored my first goal against Tommy Wayfarer. He got mad and cried.” The lights of Tucson began to flicker to life. Someone walked by my door humming Santa Claus is Coming to Town. “I’ll be okay. I just have to score my first goal here.”



“You will.”



“Yeah, I will. So, tell me about morning skate. How did the lines look?”



We talked about the Railers and about Ryker and Declan, my new therapy buddy. We talked about old movies and new songs. We talked for hours. Darkness had blanketed the city when I dozed off on him. I woke up a second later, phone still to my ear, my boyfriend chuckling.



“Wow, you snored yourself awake,” Mads said, then groaned, rising to his feet I assumed.



“Shit, yeah, I fell asleep.” A yawn rolled out of me. I flopped to my side on the bed, my sight on the desert sky over Tucson.



“I need to turn in too,” he said around a yawn.



“Yeah, you’re a couple of hours ahead of us. I’ll call you tomorrow at the same time. I love you, Mads.”



“I love you too, Ten. And your mother was right; you are a tough camper. You’ll begin to see improvement, I know you. You won’t stop until you do.”



“Thanks, Coach.”



“Wiseass.”



“I miss our goodnight kisses.” My eyes were so heavy I could barely keep them open.



“You’ll get plenty when you get home.”



“Mm, loving sounds good.”



“Yes, it does. Get some rest. Heal. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”



“Night,” I mumbled, ended the call, and then fell into an exhausted but fitful sleep. The bed was too hard, too narrow, and far too lacking in Jared Madsen’s big, broad body.

REVIEWED BY


5 stars


I can never get enough of Jared and Ten. These two started my love for the Harrisburg Railers and with each story it continues to grow. If you haven't read the last few books then I dont think this novella will make a whole lot of sense. But you will still be able to feel the love between not only Jared and Ten but the love the families and the team have for these two people as well. Jump on the Railers train. You wont be disappointed!




USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott writes stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, a happily ever after.


RJ Scott is the author of over one hundred romance books, writing emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing.

The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the links below:




USA Today Bestselling Author V.L. Locey – Penning LGBT hockey romance that skates into sinful pleasures.


V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, Torchwood and Dr. Who, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a pair of geese, far too many chickens, and two steers.

When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in one hand and a steamy romance novel in the other.




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