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Una nuova storia, dalla penna di un’autrice famosa per i romanzi ambientati nel mondo dell’hockey su ghiaccio, che ha per protagonisti il giocatore della NHL e la donna tutta di un pezzo che lo costringerà a rivedere la sua vita.

Miranda Anche se sono povera, cerco di finire il college e ho due lavori, faccio il meglio che posso. Nel frattempo, Jake Birch, il mascalzone più figo dell’hockey, vive in un albergo di lusso nel centro di Chicago, e continua a lamentarsi di ogni singola cosa della sua suite. Ma dopo che gliene ho dette quattro, invece di farmi licenziare, mi richiede come cameriera personale. E poi comincia a flirtare con me. Solo che io non ricambio… almeno, provo a non farlo. Ho già detto che è il mascalzone più figo dell’hockey?

Jake Ho incontrato la donna perfetta nel peggior momento possibile. Miranda è fuoco per il mio ghiaccio… una scintilla sexy e meravigliosamente candida che abbatte i miei muri e mi ricorda cosa voglia dire provare di nuovo emozioni. Ma sono costretto a uscire con la figlia del proprietario della mia squadra per tenermi il lavoro, così non posso essere paparazzato con Miranda. Nonostante tutto, ci stiamo avvicinando… finché lei non scopre della mia “fidanzata”. E quello non è l’unico segreto che ho. Ma Miranda è la donna che voglio… anche se lei non mi crede.

Ebbene sì, lo ammetto, amo gli sport romance. Dove i protagonisti sono fatti di muscoli e competizione, adrenalina e testosterone (la rima è voluta). In più amo i romance dove a farla da padrone sono segreti e fraintendimenti. Quindi eccolo qui, il mix perfetto servito su un piatto d’argento. “Ammaliato” è un romanzo semplice e carino con tutti gli ingredienti giusti. Scritto in modo scorrevole, perfetto per passare qualche ora in un mondo fatto di ghiaccio (quello della pista da hockey su cui scivola Jake) e fuoco (i momenti hot tra i due protagonisti). I personaggi principali sono ben delineati, riesci a immaginarli senza troppi sforzi, entrambi mi sono piaciuti in alcune cose, entrambi a volte mi hanno fatto storcere il naso. Ma è giusto così, il protagonista di un libro non deve essere perfetto, deve entrarti dentro, con i suoi pregi e i suoi difetti, e questo è successo con Jake e Miranda. Li ho visti, durante il loro primo incontro, mentre si scontravano nei loro battibecchi, e nei momenti in cui finivano sempre più l’uno negli occhi dell’altra.

Jake è un professionista della NHL americana (la massima serie per quanto riguarda l’hockey su ghiaccio), il capitano della squadra, un vero leader in campo, lo è meno nella vita personale. Lo scarso rapporto con i genitori e un lutto che lo ha segnato nel profondo sono le sue cicatrici. Le donne gli cadono ai piedi e lui si dimentica il loro nome appena lasciano la sua stanza d’albergo. Sembra un mascalzone superficiale, in realtà sta solo aspettando di incontrare la ragazza capace di tenergli testa e rapirgli il cuore. Ed è a questo punto che entra in scena Miranda, studentessa dagli scarsi mezzi che fa due lavori per potersi mantenere e che non conosce nulla del magico mondo di cui invece fa parte Jake.

Il fatto che lei non sia incantata dalla sua fama e dalla sua gloria, lo intriga immediatamente.

Lui è super figo, lei è bella ma non se ne rende davvero conto, questo è un po’ un cliché dei romance contemporanei, ma non mi ha infastidita perché non viene sottolineato troppo.

Mi è piaciuto invece il carattere di Miranda. È tosta, non si fa problemi a dire ciò che pensa mentre si fa invece un gran mazzo per raggiungere i suoi obiettivi. La sua comparsa nella vita di Jake comporta un vero cambiamento nelle sue abitudini, e il titolo del libro è proprio azzeccato perché è così che si può descrivere Jake dopo l’incontro con Miranda: “ammaliato”. Dalla sua sfrontatezza, dal fatto che lei non sia intimidita da lui, che non lo voglia compiacere, che non rinunci a nulla pur di stare con lui. Intendiamoci, il sentimento è reciproco, perché Miranda, a sua volta, è “ammaliata” da questo ragazzone decisamente sexy, capace di infiammare le folle, un campione con i pattini, ma allo stesso tempo intelligente, ironico, romantico e sì, anche un po’ fragile e ingenuo. Ingenuo soprattutto nel tenere nascosta a Miranda la sua falsa relazione con la figlia del proprietario della squadra. Relazione in cui è caduto senza davvero volerlo, in modo sciocco, e in cui è costretto a fingere per mantenere il suo posto sul ghiaccio.

Qualche scena bollente che non guasta mai, un segreto scoperto all’improvviso che rischia di rovinare tutto, ed ecco servito un bel romance sportivo con tutte le caratteristiche giuste per essere una lettura assolutamente consigliata, soprattutto per chi ama il genere.

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Chicago Blaze, #2

Abby

I only have one love now—the home furnishings business I’m building into an empire. Maybe money and success can’t love me back, but they keep what’s left of my heart safe. One-night stands are my way of scratching the occasional itch I get for something more. And no one’s better for that than a sexy as sin hockey player I’ll never see again after one very hot night together.

Luca

I used to love two things: hockey and women. But now my nieces and nephew are my top priority, because I’m raising them after tragedy stole their parents. Somehow I balance single parenthood and my career as a forward for the Chicago Blaze. There’s no time for women, until I get knocked on my ass by Abby Daniels. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, but her devastating past may end us before we even get started.

————–

He’s known as Father Anton to his teammates—the brooding, sexy captain of the NHL’s Chicago Blaze has a reputation for…not having a reputation. Just like his diet and sleep routines, celibacy is part of Anton Petrov’s on-ice mojo. Or so they say. Anton stays mum on the subject. If the world thinks he chooses to abstain from sex, so be it. Better that than the truth getting out: there is a woman he burns for, but he can never have her. She’s his teammate’s wife, after all.

Mia Marceau is finally on her own. Now that she and her husband are living apart, she’s finding the peace she was desperate for. She spends her days in classes and late nights bartending, making her own way in the world at last. After what she’s been through, as long as her husband leaves her alone, she doesn’t plan to rock the boat. He still has the power to hurt those dearest to her, and she can’t demand a divorce with such a high cost.

A chance encounter with Mia has Anton hoping for a shot he never thought he’d get. And while she’s drawn to the intense, serious hockey center, Mia’s leery about playing with fire. That’s all Anton has ever known for Mia, though—a living, burning desire that won’t be denied—no matter the cost.

Anton

My brother’s a fucking asshole. I’ve known this since I first learned how to walk thirty years ago. My mom loves to tell the story about me taking my first tentative steps across our tiny Saint Petersburg apartment, my lips pursed in concentration. That is, until my twin brother Alexei crawled up behind me like a bat out of hell, laughing as he upended me and I fell on my ass.

“How’s that water?” He grins obnoxiously at me from across the table at our favorite Chicago steakhouse, his first glass of Heineken nearly gone already.

“Water’s water,” I say, shrugging. “How’s your liver?”

“My liver’s a fucking champ. It’s scrappy. If there was a Hunger Games for livers, mine would definitely be the winner.”

“You think?”

He arches his brows. “You only live once, man.”

Our server ends the conversation as he approaches with our dinner. Even though I devoured a salad already, my stomach growls as the plate with double portions of grilled chicken and steamed vegetables is set in front of me.

Alexei looks just as famished as he eyes his sixteen-ounce filet mignon and an enormous baked potato loaded with butter and sour cream.

“Another Heineken, sir?” the server asks him.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I’ll bring more bread, too.” The server picks up the basket Alexei emptied, slathering each piece with butter as I ate my salad. “Anything else I can get you?”

“I think we’re good, thanks,” I say.

We both eat in silence for a couple minutes, until my brother sets down his fork and gives me a stern look.

“You do realize I had the game tonight, right? If Lenz hadn’t been fucking asleep in front of the net, we’d have won. Easily.”

“Here we go.” I roll my eyes.

“Don’t start that shit, Anton. You know I’m right.”

“I know you lost.”

“Lenz practically escorted you to the inside of our net, man.”

“4–2.” I remind him of the score. “A decisive win, I’d say.”

“We’ll have a new goalie by Monday, guaranteed.”

“We smoked you, Lex. The big talking Comets got shut down.”

He glares at me as he puts a giant bite of steak into his mouth and chews it slowly. This is his old trick for thinking of a comeback when he’s got nothing.

My brother and I played on the same team from the time we immigrated to the US from Russia at age five until we both graduated from Boston College, where we played hockey on athletic scholarships. My full-time job in college, in addition to playing hockey and studying for class, was keeping my hard-partying brother out of trouble so he wouldn’t lose his scholarship.

After college, we entered the NHL draft and signed with different teams. There’s only room for one Petrov brother on an NHL team, because while our personalities are like night and day, we’re very much the same on the ice. We’re both first line centers who fight hard and never quit. Both team captains who accept nothing less than one hundred percent. And we’re also both stubborn as hell.

Alexei started out playing for Minneapolis, but now he’s with the Austin Comets and I’m with the Chicago Blaze. No one gives me more shit than my brother, but no one loves me more either. I know for sure he’d walk through fire for me, and I’d do the same for him. Dinner at Robertson’s Steakhouse is our tradition after every game we play against each other in Chicago, no matter how pissed off or beat down the loser feels.

He’s known as Father Anton to his teammates—the brooding, sexy captain of the NHL’s Chicago Blaze has a reputation for…not having a reputation. Just like his diet and sleep routines, celibacy is part of Anton Petrov’s on-ice mojo. Or so they say. Anton stays mum on the subject. If the world thinks he chooses to abstain from sex, so be it. Better that than the truth getting out: there is a woman he burns for, but he can never have her. She’s his teammate’s wife, after all.

Mia Marceau is finally on her own. Now that she and her husband are living apart, she’s finding the peace she was desperate for. She spends her days in classes and late nights bartending, making her own way in the world at last. After what she’s been through, as long as her husband leaves her alone, she doesn’t plan to rock the boat. He still has the power to hurt those dearest to her, and she can’t demand a divorce with such a high cost.

A chance encounter with Mia has Anton hoping for a shot he never thought he’d get. And while she’s drawn to the intense, serious hockey center, Mia’s leery about playing with fire. That’s all Anton has ever known for Mia, though—a living, burning desire that won’t be denied—no matter the cost.

Chicago Blaze, #1

He’s known as Father Anton to his teammates—the brooding, sexy captain of the NHL’s Chicago Blaze has a reputation for…not having a reputation. Just like his diet and sleep routines, celibacy is part of Anton Petrov’s on-ice mojo. Or so they say. Anton stays mum on the subject. If the world thinks he chooses to abstain from sex, so be it. Better that than the truth getting out: there is a woman he burns for, but he can never have her. She’s his teammate’s wife, after all.

Mia Marceau is finally on her own. Now that she and her husband are living apart, she’s finding the peace she was desperate for. She spends her days in classes and late nights bartending, making her own way in the world at last. After what she’s been through, as long as her husband leaves her alone, she doesn’t plan to rock the boat. He still has the power to hurt those dearest to her, and she can’t demand a divorce with such a high cost.

A chance encounter with Mia has Anton hoping for a shot he never thought he’d get. And while she’s drawn to the intense, serious hockey center, Mia’s leery about playing with fire. That’s all Anton has ever known for Mia, though—a living, burning desire that won’t be denied—no matter the cost.

————–

Do you believe in fate?

I didn’t. I’d worked since childhood to become an NFL starting quarterback. All the blood, sweat, and tears were about to pay off with my name in the record books. Setting an NFL record was going to be the crowning achievement of my career. Hell, of my life.

But then fate, the cagey bitch, threw me a curveball I never saw coming. I ended up trapped in a doomsday bunker with four strangers, my chances at that record slipping away as days turned into months.

I never would’ve given Erin a second look. She was gorgeous, sure, but not my type. I liked women who were strong. Fearless. Resilient. Not to mention that she hated me.

But I was so wrong about her. And in that bunker, I fell in crazy, stupid love.

I thought a record would be my greatest triumph. But now, all I want is a shot with Erin. I’ve faced down massive linebackers intent on ending me. For her, I’ll go toe-to-toe with fate.

I sigh softly, willing my heart to stop jackhammering in my chest, and walk over to the large, opened steel door in the ground.

Kenna white knuckles the black steel ladder that leads straight down, scrambling to get her heels situated. I wonder again why she’s wearing a business suit and heels out here.

“Do you work here?” I ask her.

She gives me a sharp look. “I’m Derek’s personal assistant.”

“Oh, got it. And he must be the football player who owns the place?”

Kenna gawks at me in disbelief. “You don’t know who Derek Heaton is?”

I shrug. “Isn’t he a football player?”

“He’s the best quarterback in the league. Also the highest paid.”

“Huh. Well, good for him,” I say dismissively.

Kenna shrieks as one of her feet slips on the metal ladder.

“You okay?” I ask her.

“I’m fine.”

I peer down into the dark hole, trying to think about anything other than going down there. Even after years of therapy, the panic is so strong I want to run away.

Just make it about the groceries, I tell myself. Think about getting the delivery where it needs to go as quickly as possible. You can do this.

I take a deep breath and then follow Kenna down the ladder. I start sweating immediately as my self-preservation instincts kick in. But I ignore it, descending the ladder to a small landing and then taking a staircase the rest of the way down.

For a moment, my fear is forgotten. The bunker is nothing like I was expecting. It’s open and expansive, the kitchen done with stainless appliances and warm wood cabinets. The floors are also wood, and there’s a large leather sectional in a living area.

“This way,” Kenna says, motioning impatiently from in front of a doorway.

I tear myself away from looking at the rich, slightly rustic décor and join her in a large white room. Fluorescent lights glow overhead, illuminating walls lined with shelves. About half the shelves are filled with supplies ranging from toilet paper to giant containers of tapioca pudding.

“Right here,” Kenna says, grabbing a clipboard and glancing down at it.

She stands in front of an empty section of shelves. I wait a couple seconds as she reads something on her list, but then I can’t take it anymore. I refuse to be down here for one minute longer than I have to.

“I’ll go get my first load,” I say, turning.

“I need it shelved in groups,” she says as I depart the room. “Keep all the peanut butter together, all the trail mix together, and so on. And make sure you fill the entire shelf all the way to the back.”

“Okay,” I call over my shoulder.

I hear male voices from somewhere in the bunker, but I ignore them, practically sprinting to the stairs out of this death trap hole in the ground.

When I get to the truck, I stuff my backpack with as much of the supplies it back hold, then grab another box to carry in my arms. Surveying the flatbed load, I realize it’s going to take at least twenty trips to get all this into the supply room.

Just great. I have to make myself go down that ladder over and over again.

As I reach the end of the stairs, I see three men in the living room area of the bunker. One is kneeling by the floor, looking at something. The other two are talking.

One of the two looks pretty young, maybe college-aged. His skin is deeply tanned and his hair is hidden beneath a baseball hat. The other one looks like a young Russell Crowe, very tall and all muscles and chiseled jaw line. He’s wearing shorts and a plain gray t-shirt.

He has to be the football player. He’s got arrogant pro athlete written all over him, from his biceps straining the sleeves of his shirt to his perfect smile.

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They say roses are the most beautiful…

Gin Fielding is counting the days until she escapes the small-town life of Roper, Missouri for college at NYU. She prefers to blend in, though she’s far from invisible. But when she protects a younger student from a bully, the spotlight turns on her in ways she never imagined.

I say that every rose has its thorn…

The Friday night lights shine bright on Chase Matthews. Roper’s golden boy, Chase can do no wrong, enjoying the small-town celebrity being the star quarterback brings. When Gin defends his little sister against a bully, he decides to lend her his star power and change her senior year in ways she never imagined.

But maybe the thorns are part of their beauty.

When Gin declines Chase’s invitation to be part of the elite Sweet Sixteen, the repercussions turn both their lives upside down. But amidst the chaos, Gin and Chase find solace in one another. Together, they confront the ugly truth– that sometimes glory has a dark side.

***Warning–Sweet Sixteen is an upper YA book with mature themes and is intended for readers 18+.

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Gin

Clay Houser has a shit-eating grin as he walks up to our lunch table. He’s got a towel thrown over one shoulder that looks like it came from one of the locker rooms.

My stomach churns at the thought of him tossing it at my face when it has God knows what all over it. It’s been a quiet Thursday so far, with most people just ignoring me or giving me dirty looks.

“Asshole alert,” Lauren says when Clay stops at our table.

Clay sneers at her. “What’s it like for a dyke to suck dick for drugs? Bet you gag on ‘em.”

She laughs bitterly. “Curious about sucking dick, Clay? There are some videos online you can watch to learn.”

Raj tries to muffle his laugh. Clay’s cheeks darken with embarrassment.

“You bunch of freaks deserve each other,” he mutters.

I put an arm out to shield my face as he starts to throw the towel, but it surprises all of us when he tosses it at Raj instead of me.

“Wrap it around your head, Osama.” He sneers.

Several football players behind him are laughing it up. Raj is trying to ignore the whole thing, but the look on his face is gutting me.

Shame. Clay Houser made Raj feel ashamed of who he is, and it sparks my temper into an instant inferno. Raj doesn’t say a mean word to anyone. His parents are dead, and the only reminder he gets of them at Roper High School is the taunting of rednecks.

I reach for the towel and get up from the table, advancing on Clay. I’m not even thinking; I’m just letting my white-hot rage guide my every move.

“Clay, I hope this towel is dirty.”

There are only a few steps between me and him now, and he’s giving me a bewildered look as I get closer. His cheering section has gone quiet.

“What are you doing?” He scoffs and looks from side to side.

My voice is ominously even. “I’m gonna shove this towel so far down your throat that you choke on it. I hope you taste ass and crotch as it goes down.”

Purchase Now or read for FREE in KindleUnlimited:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

They say roses are the most beautiful…

Gin Fielding is counting the days until she escapes the small-town life of Roper, Missouri for college at NYU. She prefers to blend in, though she’s far from invisible. But when she protects a younger student from a bully, the spotlight turns on her in ways she never imagined.

I say that every rose has its thorn…

The Friday night lights shine bright on Chase Matthews. Roper’s golden boy, Chase can do no wrong, enjoying the small-town celebrity being the star quarterback brings. When Gin defends his little sister against a bully, he decides to lend her his star power and change her senior year in ways she never imagined.

But maybe the thorns are part of their beauty.

When Gin declines Chase’s invitation to be part of the elite Sweet Sixteen, the repercussions turn both their lives upside down. But amidst the chaos, Gin and Chase find solace in one another. Together, they confront the ugly truth– that sometimes glory has a dark side.

***Warning–Sweet Sixteen is an upper YA book with mature themes and is intended for readers 18+.

Purchase Now or read for FREE in KindleUnlimited:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

Amazon IT

Pre-order Now:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

They say roses are the most beautiful…

Gin Fielding is counting the days until she escapes the small-town life of Roper, Missouri for college at NYU. She prefers to blend in, though she’s far from invisible. But when she protects a younger student from a bully, the spotlight turns on her in ways she never imagined.

I say that every rose has its thorn…

The Friday night lights shine bright on Chase Matthews. Roper’s golden boy, Chase can do no wrong, enjoying the small-town celebrity being the star quarterback brings. When Gin defends his little sister against a bully, he decides to lend her his star power and change her senior year in ways she never imagined.

But maybe the thorns are part of their beauty.

When Gin declines Chase’s invitation to be part of the elite Sweet Sixteen, the repercussions turn both their lives upside down. But amidst the chaos, Gin and Chase find solace in one another. Together, they confront the ugly truth– that sometimes glory has a dark side.

***Warning–Sweet Sixteen is an upper YA book with mature themes and is intended for readers 18+.

Reagan drops her head and lets out a shaky breath. “I do understand, Jude.” She pauses, and I’m hopeful for a moment that the conversation is over. But again, I’m wrong. She raises her head, lifting her chin high, and crosses her arms to match my posture. “But sometimes you need to remember while you were out fighting in a war, I was sitting in my father’s office listening to him cut deals with mobsters.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday.” I run my fingers through my hair and try to keep my voice even. The last thing I want to do is ruin the rest of the time I have left before I have to go back on the road again. “I’ve been in politics long enough to know that if I take his money, I’ll owe him a favor.”

“You can’t,” she says and takes a step toward me, completely ignoring everything I just said.

I push off the counter and turn my back to her. I can’t fight with her anymore about this. I can’t jeopardize the entire weekend over something as silly as a single meeting. “I’m done talking about this, Reagan.”

“Where are you going?” she asks as I grab my keys from the hook near the door.

“Out,” I grunt with my back to her and my hand on the doorknob.

“Wait!”

I hear her footsteps on the tile as the bottom of my shoes touch the landing, but I don’t stop.

I can’t.

Fuck. I won’t.

I love the woman. Hell, I’d lay down my life for hers. I’ve never been crazier about another human being, but lately, we’re like gasoline and fire. The stress of the campaign and the added pressure Reagan continues to put on our marriage by only focusing on my career is weighing me down and killing the dream we gave so much to try to build.

I stalk down the street, wandering to God knows where. I walk for hours, winding down endless streets in downtown Chicago and ignoring every phone call until I end up at the steps of my old gym.

When I walk through the door, my old trainer yells, “Jude! What the fuck, man?” and jogs toward me with his hand outstretched. For a moment, I feel normal again. It’s almost like I’m the Marine who just returned from a battle to a warm reception and a kind handshake.

“So good to see you, Manny.” My smile’s easy as I shake his hand. “Can you fit me in?”

“Can I fit the future governor of Illinois in?” He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Don’t be a dick, dude. We always got time for you.”

“I need a few rounds in the ring. No holds barred.”

His eyes widen as his hand falls away from mine. “I don’t think…” he says, smashing his hands together in front of him as he glances behind his back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I can go somewhere else,” I tell him with a shrug.

Manny peers up at me with a wicked smile. “No. No. I’ll just go easy on you. I can’t have that pretty face all messed up for the cameras.” He jabs me playfully in the ribs.

I laugh at his statement. “I’ll try not to beat you too badly, old man.”

He straightens at the put-down and puffs out his muscles, trying to make himself look bigger and badder than usual. “Those are fighting words, Titan.”

“Bring it,” I tell him.

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