Mar 19 2017 12:07pm
Hot on Ice Sampler #5: Hockey Romances by Desiree Holt, Avery Flynn, and Xio Axelrod
The New Orleans Cajun Rage professional hockey team just won the Cup. No one thought they’d do it: they were a team of shoulda beens, never coulda beens and a star or two. They’d only been in the Crescent City for three years before this year’s Cinderella run that had them skating off the ice with the championship. Over the following summer, each player gets to keep the Cup for a day. Nobody knows why, but whoever has the Cup falls in love.
USA Today best-sellers Robin Covington, Kimberly Kincaid, Nana Malone and Virginia Nelson, Publisher’s Weekly Bestseller Angi Morgan, along with Xio Axelrod, Christi Barth, Andie J. Christopher, Avery Flynn, Kim Golden, Lena Hart, Desiree Holt, Robin Kaye, Katie Kenyhercz, Heather Long, Kate Meader, Susan Scott Shelley, and Misty D. Waters bring you 18 romances with smoking hot heroes—both on and off the ice.
Get a sneak peek at Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology (available March 21, 2017) with exclusive excerpts from three of the books in the collection.
Body Check by Desiree Holt
He still had the damn square-jawed look to his face, a face now showing lines of maturity. And a teasing sprig of chest hair darker than that on his head peeked at her from his open collar. Did he still wear that after shave that smelled so great, its outdoorsy scent making her pheromones rise up and sweep through her body?
She had to swallow twice before she could get any words out.
“Uh, hey, Matt.”
She did her best to untangle her brain as it shuffled through the stored images of Matt naked, heat flaring in his eyes, his cock thick and hard. His lips unbelievably soft as he trailed them over her body, his strong fingers caressing every inch of her…
It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. She couldn’t afford to let him back into her life. Her heat might not have healed but at least it had scarred over. No way could she rip open those scars and lay her heart bare for him again. So why had her nipples suddenly hardened into painful tips? Heat flashed over her and the pulse between her thighs pounded harder than the Anvil Chorus. All these years and all it took was one look at him to set her off.
God. She hoped her face wasn’t red and she wasn’t drooling. How was it possible after all these years, after his cavalier dismissal of their relationship, one look at him and she melted into a puddle?
Get hold of yourself, Elizabeth.
“Hey, Lizzie.” His voice was deeper, the words spoken softly.
“It’s, uh, Liz, now.” Geez. Could she sound any more stupid?
“I heard.” That deep voice just rumbled through her. “But to me you’ll always be Lizzie.”
Okay, she had to get control of this situation. No way was he just going to walk back into her life after all this time and think a big bunch of roses was going to make up for the hurt she’d been nursing all these years. Swallowing hard, she conjured up images of ice cubes and snow. Anything to cool down the fire that one look from him ignited just as it always had.
Remember how he hurt you, she reminded herself. That should do it.
Mentally she pulled up her big girl panties and reached for the oh-so-cool Liz St. John, event specialist
“The flowers are a nice gesture, Matt, but they don’t do much after all this time.” She flicked a fingernail against one petal. “Especially from someone who walked away from me without so much as a backward glance.”
A pained look came over his face and his jaw tightened.
“It wasn’t like that, Lizzie,” he protested. “Not really.”
“Is that so? Then what was it like?” She blew out a breath. “Because the way I remember it, that’s exactly what happened. Although I’m sure in your mind you’ve managed to twist it all around.”
Blade by Avery Flynn
Marcy handed Flynn the pint and he took a long, deep swallow, keeping his gaze on the bottles of clear liquor lined up behind the bar rather than looking over his shoulder to take stock of the night's possibilities. Then, a cold breath of awareness blew down his neck, the same one that let him know when a puck was coming before the forward's stick even connected. Not turning around wasn't an option.
“Thanks, Marcy.” He nodded at the older woman and made a slow one-eighty.
His gaze went past the preening puck bunnies trying to catch his eye, the couples making a dance floor out of the square feet of nothing space in front of the bowling shoe rental counter and a trio of sunburned FIPs (fucking Illinois' people) playing pool in the back corner until he spotted her. The world stuttered to a stop. The bunnies disappeared. The beer in his hand ceased to exist.
Gillie Fucking Pike.
He stared. She smirked.
He downed his nearly full beer in one gulp. She strutted across Ten Pints, drawing the attention of every man in the bar and most of the women too.
When he'd left her standing in the driveway of his empty Fort Worth house three years ago, looking too pissed off to cry, he'd never expected to see her again. He couldn't. She was a thief. She was his best friend's little sister. Worst of all, she was the only woman to ever make him rethink his priorities to the point that he nearly got him thrown in jail. There wasn't a bigger danger in the world for a man with one goal—and one goal only—than to fall for a woman like Gillie Pike. She was five-feet-nine-inches of sexy distraction.
By the time Gillie stopped in front of him, close enough she wouldn't have to shout over the din of Ten Pints, he'd almost got his brain back in gear. He'd have been a helluva lot more successful at that if most of his blood hadn't headed straight south at the sight of her. If Eve had looked even half as good as Gillie, there was no doubt as to why Adam had taken a big ole bite of that juicy apple. She was all curves and bad girl sex appeal topped off with long black hair that he knew from experience she loved to have pulled tight while getting fucked from behind.
She arched an eyebrow as if she knew exactly what he'd been thinking. “Buy a girl a beer?”
“I don't think that's a good idea.” Hell, it wasn't even in the same hemisphere as a good idea.
Gillie stepped closer and raised herself up to her tiptoes, brushing her tits across his chest and bringing her full lips within kissing distance of his earlobe. “From what I remember you liked bad ideas.”
The Warm Up by Xio Axelrod
Jesus Christ, this guy was hot. Like, I don’t care what your name is hot. Like, I don’t even care what you do for a living because I just want to climb you like a jungle gym, hot.
Suji didn’t know what the hell the alcohol content was in the beer she’d been drinking, but she couldn’t remember feeling this mellow. Or this turned on.
And this Con guy was sexy as hell. Tall and broad with chestnut hair and teasing, dark chocolate eyes. His mouth was wide with cupid’s bow lips and she couldn’t stop staring at them while they sat at the bar.
Now he was grinding up on her like she was a scratch pole and he was the world’s neediest cat. Or maybe she was the one doing the grinding. It was, after all, her ass pressed against his crotch.
Con wrapped his arm around her waist, and Suji threw her arm back around his neck. His breath tickled her neck as he spoke into it.
“You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
“Ditto,” she replied, though it came out more like “unnnngh.”
It was the music, she reasoned. A thumping bass line over a tight drum pattern that made her hips move of their own volition. Damn Jo and her wicked taste in music.
Next to them, on the dance floor they’d created by pushing several tables to the side, her sister wiggled and swayed along with Jo, and Jo’s friend Lovie. All three of them seemed to be having a blast. Especially Jo, who had snagged the bashful, young waiter and forced the poor kid to dance.
He wasn’t suffering, by the looks of it. And Suji certainly wasn’t having a bad time herself.
Her skin prickled, a combination of sweat and need as Con moved to the music with her. They were practically glued together, and there was no mistaking the effect it had on him.
Lips brushed her neck, setting her blood on fire.
“Is this okay?” He voice rumbled just beneath the sound of the bass guitar.
Suji nodded, breathless.
Con turned her in his arms, wrapping them around her waist. He trapped her leg between his thighs and pulled her in tight.
Suji looped her arms around his neck. He smelled delicious, like leather, and sweat, and man.
“Fuck,” he said when she rolled her body into his. “I, fuck.”
Whoa, Nelly. Did she just…?
Con slowed them down, their movements lazy compared to the frenetic pulse of the music, and of her racing heart. He leaned back to meet her gaze. His was hooded and kept dropping down to her mouth.
“Say that again,” he demanded, licking his lips.
“I don’t normally…”
“I didn’t think you did.”
“But I want…”
“God, I need…”
He groaned when Suji stretched up to run her nose along the column of his neck. She wanted to bite him. Mark him. Where this was all coming from, she had no idea. Nor did she care.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the back of the pub.
Jo caught her eye as they passed and gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Amrita arched an eyebrow but thankfully didn’t comment. Suji didn’t want to question it. She didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel.
Copyright © 2017 by Nana Malone, Kimberly Kincaid, and Heather Long
Learn more about or order a copy of Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology by Desiree Holt, Avery Flynn, Xio Axelrod, et al., available March 21, 2017:
USA Today best-selling and award-winning author Desiree Holt writes everything form romantic suspense and paranormal to erotic, a genre in which she is the oldest living author. She has been referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, and is a winner of the EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice nominee. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.
Avery Flynn is an award-winning romance author. She has three slightly-wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. She was a reader before she was a writer and hopes to always be both. She loves to write about smartass alpha heroes who are as good with a quip as they are with their *ahem* other God-given talents. Her heroines are feisty, fierce and fantastic. Brainy and brave, these ladies know how to stand on their own two feet and knock the bad guys off theirs.
Xio Axelrod is an award-winning author of romantic fiction, contemporary Scottish romance and, what she likes to call, strange, twisted tales. Xio grew up in the music industry and began recording at a young age. When she isn't writing stories, she can be found in the studio, writing songs, or performing on international stages (under a different, no-so-secret name). She lives in Philadelphia with one full-time husband and one part-time cat. She also writes erotica under the name Xio Nin.