Showing posts with label Sports Romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sports Romance. Show all posts

January 3, 2017

Review: The Next Competitor by Keira Andrews

If he risks his heart, can he keep his head in the game? 

To win gold, figure skater Alex Grady must train harder than the competition morning, noon, and night. He’s obsessed with mastering another quadruple jump, and due to the lack of filter between his mouth and brain, doesn’t have a lot of friends. As for a boyfriend, forget it. So what if he’s still a virgin at twenty? The Olympics are only every four years—everything else can wait. Relationships are messy and complicated anyway, and he has zero room in his life for romance. 

So it’s ridiculous when Alex finds himself checking out his boring new training mate Matt Savelli. Calm, collected “Captain Cardboard” is a nice guy, but even if Alex had time to date, Matt’s so not his type. Yet beneath Matt’s wholesome surface, there’s a dirty, sexy man who awakens a desire Alex has never experienced and can’t deny… 

Note: This gay romance from Keira Andrews features opposites attracting, new adult angst, sexual discovery, and of course a happy ending. 

This new version has been extensively rewritten, updated, and expanded into a new adult romance with explicit on-page sex.

The Next Competitor was a captivating story from beginning to end. Figure skating is such an elegant sport and it was interesting to see the dynamics behind every competition, the gruesome training that every skater has to endure just to stay in shape, not to mention the hours upon hours of training to make sure they learn to perfection every second of the programs. 

We only see the end result, the beauty of the dance executed on the rink but there’s so much more than that going on behind the competition.

Alex and Matt are trying to find their way amid confusion, the intricacies and politics of the sports world and the grueling training sessions before each competition. Both of them are plagued by insecurities and having to hide all the time doesn't help assuage their fears.

Matt is the calm while Alex is the storm and, like every storm, there will be thunder and lightning. They clash a lot, mostly due to Alex's temper, yet they always find their way to each other when one of them needs comfort.

But wanting something and actually doing it are two different things. And we can't always have what we want.

Apart from wanting to repeatedly hit Alex upside the head, this novel was really good. I definitely recommend it.

He was just one of those characters who, somehow, managed to get on my nerves from the beginning and, everything he did after that, just served to assert my first impression.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s not a bad guy. I kind of understood the why’s later on. But I still wanted to knock some sense into him. The guy’s mood swings gave me a whiplash.

Keira’s books are always worth it. One of the things I’ve always appreciated about her is how much care she puts into every detail of each story and how seriously she takes her research. That’s always a good thing as far as I’m concerned. 

I think this was the first book I’ve read where the characters are ice skaters and it wasn’t hokey. I want more.

Thank you, Ms. Andrews, for another heartwarming story.

If you enjoy reading steamy romances between two men who can’t live without each other, you’ve come to the right place.

After writing for years yet never really finding the right inspiration, Keira discovered her voice in gay romance, which has become a passion. She writes contemporary, historical, fantasy, and paranormal fiction and — although she loves delicious angst along the way — Keira firmly believes in happy endings. For as Oscar Wilde once said:

“The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.”

June 14, 2016

Coming Soon! Excerpt & Giveaway: Heavy Hitters, Caribbean Tales #1 by Taylor V. Donovan

*Standalone Gay Romance Saga

His toughest opponent is himself.

World Boxing Champion Santino Malavé González has been fighting since he was a kid. Poverty, domestic violence, and emotional abuse were early contenders. Guilt and self-loathing were beaten into him at an impressionable age, and now machismo, an integral part of the Latino culture, rules his life. In the ring he’s undefeated. Outside the ropes life constantly hits him below the belt. It takes a sucker punch from his best friend to finally knock the denial out of him and force him to face his true nature like a real man.

A natural born entertainer, Luca Jenaro Betancur Ferrer has grown up serving God, performing, pursuing a career in music, and celebrating life among his tight-knit Catholic family under the scorching Puerto Rican sun. Singing the wrong note on stage is not a mistake the multi-platinum award-winning singer would ever allow. Falling in love with a man is not a transgression his devout family may ever accept. The ties that bind him are strong, but the pull toward his childhood best friend may just be enough to tear it all to shreds.

Anger, mistakes, bigotry, and the need to conform put up a good fight throughout their life journeys. Their religious and chauvinistic society constantly challenges their pursuit of happiness, and only time will tell if their relationship will survive the battles, or if they’ll lose each other by technical knockout.

Releasing June 24, 2016 

“Take this.” Julito handed him the other bag. “It’s your boxing gear.”

“Why’s this here and not in the shed?”

“I’ve been bagging it up every night before going to bed and putting it back in the shed before leaving for work for the last couple of weeks. I told you to put on your shoes.”

Santi obeyed immediately. “Why’d do you do that?”

“I’m ready,” Omayra said from the door, sounding scared, sad, and excited in equal parts.

“We can’t leave without Ma,” Santi repeated. “He’s hitting her because—” He felt like he was choking on his own words. His father didn’t love him. His mom was sending him away because he’d told her he liked boys. She’d failed to stand up for him… hadn’t even tried to reassure him that she’d always want him regardless of who he was. It sucked. “Mami and Papi are disappointed in me,” he forced himself to say. “All this is happening because they think I’m gay.” 

“He’s hitting Ma because he’s an abusive prick,” Omayra countered.

“I’ve got to show him I’m not gay,” Santi whispered. “This is my fault. I’ve got to do everything I can to make things right for Mami.”

“And you’ll start working on it as soon as we’re out.” Julito grabbed his keys and wallet from the milk crate that served as a bedside table and took a few towels from his bed. He looked around the room one more time before pushing Santi toward the door. “We’ve got to go.”

Only muffled noises could be heard in their parents’ bedroom when they ran out of the shack they’d called home for the past two years. That was a good sign. Papi had either passed out, or he’d calmed down.

They were soaking wet by the time they ran across the yard, got inside Julito’s old El Camino and locked the doors.

Julito pushed their bags behind the seat and started the truck. Omayra grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, then used the other two to cover Santi and Julito before settling between them on the truck’s bench seat. Santi stared at the small, dilapidated ranch through the windshield, the rain, and the darkness of night. None of them said a word as they sped away from the house.

“Where are we going?” Omayra whispered several minutes later, taking Santi’s hand.

“’Uela Esperanza’s,” Julito said quietly as he navigated the dark curvy road down the mountain.

Omayra sniffled and wiped her face. “How will we know if Ma’s okay?”

“I have Sister Dominga’s telephone number,” Julito said. “Ma’ll go to the convent after mass on Sunday and wait for our call.” 

Santi rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

He thought about the conversation between himself and his mom. About the stupid Health class that had started this mess. About the moment his dad walked into the bedroom and about the conspiring looks he’d seen pass between Julito and their mom.

“Where’s Héctor?” he asked without opening his eyes.

“He’s living with Titi Migdalia in New York,” Julito said.

Omayra gasped. “But I thought he was still in juvie.”

“They reduced his sentence for good behavior. Papi had said he didn’t want Héctor in his house, and Ma didn’t want him to go back to that hell anyway, so she asked if I could help her buy a plane ticket for him, and I said yes.”

“How long has he been out?” Omayra asked. “Does Pa know?” 

“Six months or so, and no, that bastard doesn’t know,” Julito said with a smile. Santi’s eyes were closed, but he could hear the smile in his brother’s voice. “He’s working in Tío Tato’s bodega and going to school at night. He’s doing fine.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Omayra said with a laugh. “That’s a great opportunity for him. I hope he turns things around for himself.”

“When did you plan this?” Santi asked is a shaky voice. “When did Ma decide to get us out of the house?”

“Right after ’Uela Esperanza and Tío Miguel came to visit the last time. She talked to them. Made sure we’d have a safe place to live and a gym where you could start training again. She was hoping it wouldn’t be necessary, but she had to be ready in case—” Julito cleared his throat. “In case you turned out to be gay,” he finished in a careful tone. “She knew Pa would never leave you alone, so we came up with a plan.”

“Taunt Papi and let him think it was his idea to disown us and throw us out of the house?” Omayra snorted. “He’s an idiot, and Ma finally did something right. I wish she’d come with us, though.”

“We’ll figure a way to get her out,” Julito assured her. “Life will be different now. She found a way to give us a chance, guys. Let’s make it count.”

“I never said I am gay,” Santi pointed out. He opened his eyes and looked at his brother and sister, desperate to convince them that he wasn’t a pervert. “I’m not in love with another boy, and it isn’t my fault Papi’s hitting Ma.” He lowered his eyes and stared at the beaded bracelets he’d been squeezing in his hand the entire time. “This mess isn’t my fault…it can’t be my fault… It isn’t! I’m not gay.”

Julito clasped Santi’s shoulder and said, “I know, buddy. I know you wouldn’t let me down that way.” He patted him on the back a couple of times before focusing his attention on the road.

Omayra glared at Julito, and then kissed Santi on the cheek. “I’ll always love you, no matter what you do or who you are,” she whispered as she gave him an understanding smile. “Don’t forget that.”

Santi leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.

He never let go of the bracelets or Omayra’s hand.

Taylor V. Donovan is a compulsive reader and author of gay romance and suspense. She is optimistically cynical about humanity and a lover of history, museums, and all things 80s. She shamelessly indulges in mind-numbing reality television, is crazy about fashion, and passionate about civil rights and equality for all.

When she’s not writing or making a living in the busiest city in the world, Taylor can be found raising her two daughters and their terribly misbehaved furry baby in their home.

May 20, 2016

Excerpt & Giveaway! Power Play, Scoring Chances #3 by Avon Gale

A freak accident during the Stanley Cup Playoffs put an end to Max Ashford’s hockey career. Despite everything, Max gets back into the game he loves—only this time, behind the bench as an assistant coach of the Spartanburg Spitfires, the worst team in the entire league. But nothing prepares him for the shock when he learns the new head coach is Misha Samarin, the man who caused Max’s accident.

After spending guilt-ridden years for his part in Max’s accident, Russian native Misha Samarin has no idea what to do when he’s confronted with Max’s presence. Max’s optimism plays havoc with Misha’s equilibrium—as does the fierce attraction that springs up between them.

Not only must they navigate Misha’s remorse and a past he’s spent a lifetime to forget, but also a sleazy GM determined to use their history as a marketing hook. But when an unwelcome visitor targets the team, Misha revisits his darkest days, which might cost him and Max the beginning they’ve worked so hard to build.

“I’d never watched this, you know.”

“The YouTube video?” Misha had seen that too. It was filed with angry commenters yelling that he should be deported back to Russia.

“The hit.”

Misha blinked. “You’ve seen the commercial, though. Yes?”

“Yeah, I wish I could say I haven’t seen that. But I meant, I didn’t watch this until a few months ago. They played that game on the NHL channel, so I watched it.”

It never occurred to Misha that Max wouldn’t have seen it, but then he remembered that Max was the hero, not the villain of the story. Misha watched the hit play out on the screen. What must that feel like, to watch the moment it all ended? When Max hit the ice, did he know that game was his last? Did Misha know it was his? How had he felt? He couldn’t remember.

The scene switched to the replay. Misha watched dispassionately, retreated into the blinding pain of his migraine, and told himself that it was all right to suffer, that he should, that he deserved it.

Max paused the video. “Look. See what I have there?”

Misha blinked. He had not expected questions. “I—what?”

“The puck, Misha. The puck. Your hit wasn’t late.”

Oh. “Yes. I know.”

Max stared at him. On the television screen, their younger selves were suspended at the moment everything changed.

Avon Gale was once the mayor on Foursquare of Jazzercise and Lollicup, which should tell you all you need to know about her as a person. She likes road trips, rock concerts, drinking Kentucky bourbon and yelling at hockey. She’s a displaced southerner living in a liberal midwestern college town, and when she’s not writing you can find her at the salon, making her clients look and feel fabulous. She never gets tired of people and their stories -- either real or the ones she makes up in her head.

April 1, 2016

Teasers, Excerpt & Giveaway! #REV, GearShark #2 by Cambria Hebert

Trent Mask puts the REV in revolution.

A line has been drawn.

Indie vs Pro

Here at GearShark, we’re straddling that line to bring you exclusive coverage of what some have dubbed the war of racing.
Every war starts with a spark and ends in revolution.
Drew Forrester was the spark,
but his second-in-command is the REVolution.

What does it take to stand brave in the face of opposition?

resolve of steel…

Stubborn will…

And a heart that refuses to give up.

It isn’t just the drivers in this war.
The revolution is about more than just racing.
It’s about shattering labels and taking risks.

So we asked Trent Mask: Truth or Dare?

His answer?


Check out the full feature article inside…


I was no quitter.
I refused to quit Trent.
So angry. I was so goddamned angry.
He was pushing me away when all I wanted to do was pull him close. It was almost laughable he tried to break up with me. I felt the laughter bubbling up inside me, ready to explode. It was like I was so incredibly infuriated I couldn’t yell, I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t even speak.
But I wanted to laugh. The kind of laugh only villains in movies did. The kind that bespoke of internal madness.
That’s what tonight was. Madness.
He was jumped. Beaten.
He told me he loved me.
Then he laid out intent to withhold that love.
Trent was trying to protect me, in his mind he wasn’t keeping the love he felt from me, rather showing it in the best way he knew how. I respected that. I did.
But I wouldn’t have it.
We’d gotten one week together, I wanted more.
I suppose thinking we could keep our relationship a secret was naive. Merely wishful thinking. When you loved someone the way we loved each other it was impossible to hide.
It showed in every way.
Not just in the way we looked at each other. Or the way we spent every spare moment together. It showed in ways I never wanted to see until now. Ways I thought no one else would notice.
I’d been fooling myself.
It was the way he put ketchup on his plate so I could eat his fries. The way I automatically pulled the tomatoes off my burgers and slid them on to his plate. It was the fact I went to him first whenever something happened I wanted to share. And the way we made each other’s coffee, exactly as we drank it.
Love is in the details. It is in the every day. It is the way you treat someone when they aren’t even looking and the way they fill your head when you’re apart.
Of course people were going to see it.
Joey saw it almost from day one. Braeden and Ivy already knew. The reporter from GearShark knew from just one conversation…
Hiding our relationship was almost not an option.
Dissolving it wasn’t either.
My hand throbbed and my knuckles were slick with blood when I slammed out of the room. I was so intensely frustrated I couldn’t look at him another minute.
We weren’t over. No way in hell.
But I needed a minute.
My mind was so clouded with anger I didn’t see him. I didn’t notice him at all until he cleared his throat. My body jerked to a stop and my head whipped around to see Romeo leaning against the wall, like he was resolved to be there a while.
I’m sure he heard everything.
Me and Trent had been yelling. And the sound of my hand going through the wall hadn’t exactly been silent.
“Guess I don’t need to ask how he is.” Romeo said, straightening off the wall.
“You agree with him?” I challenged, my hand flexed. It was already fucked up from going through a wall, but I’d use it again if I had to.
“I understand why he thinks he’s doing what’s right.”
At first his words didn’t sink in. They just pissed me off even more. All I heard was Romeo understood Trent. I growled low and stepped forward in an aggressive movement.
Romeo’s every narrowed, watching me close but other than that his body language didn’t change.
That’s when I realized he was no threat to me. That’s when I realized he was on my side.
“We’re in a relationship.” I said, point blank. I kind of wanted to shock him. I wanted someone other than me to feel the sting of words tonight.
I also wanted a fight.
Just not with Trent.
Never with Trent.
“I know.”
The amusement in his tone took a little heat out of my oven.
“You can’t keep secrets like that from family. Family who really loves you.”
I tilted my head to the side and regarded him. Was he saying he knew before he walked into this house a little bit ago?
Was he saying he didn’t care?
“You should probably get that hand cleaned up. You’re bleeding on the floor.”
I glanced down at the blood dripping off my knuckles.
“I’ll talk to Trent.” He went on.
Romeo stepped off the wall and toward the bedroom door. I moved fast, silently snatching his arm and turning him around. He didn’t pull away or act like my roughness was a threat, but his muscles tensed beneath my arm and I felt tension coil in his limbs.
“He cares what you think.” I said low. “Your opinion matters. So if you aren’t sure how you feel about our relationship or the fact there are two gay guys in your family walk away, walk away right now.”
Romeo stared at me level, his blue eyes bouncing between mine.
“He’s already fucked up enough right now. If you can’t offer him the brother he needs tonight I won’t let you in that room.”
Romeo smiled. His lips curved up into a knowing, almost pleased expression. “He pissed you off so bad you put your hand through a wall and he’s pushing you away, but yet here you are, standing guard at the door protecting him.”
“That wasn’t an answer,” I growled.
Romeo laughed beneath his breath. And then he answered.
Not with words.
In seconds his arm was out of my grasp and he was hugging me. I hesitated, shocked that he would just reach out and hug me like this.
“Family takes care of family.” his voice was low. “I’m not sure if there is anything that could make me turn my back on family, but if there is, it isn’t this.”
When he pulled back I looked him in the eye.
He meant it.
“Congratulations on finding a love worth fighting for.”

Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. 
Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house). 
Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.
Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

March 18, 2016

Excerpt & Giveaway! Jackson's Trust, Fourth Down #1 by Violet Duke

New York Times bestselling author Violet Duke kicks off her sizzling-hot new Fourth Down series with a friends-to-lovers romance between a no-strings-attached sports analyst and the hottest damn tomboy he’s ever met.

It’s no secret that sports analyst Jackson Gray doesn’t do relationships. What is a secret, however, is the reason why. Jackson’s life is . . . complicated. And it doesn’t help that his current hands-off “friendship” is with the cute-as-hell new sideline reporter he’s assigned to train. Turns out, not only is the woman damn sweet, she also knows as much about football as he does. Like it or not though, Jackson has to remind himself that sex is the only thing he has to offer . . . until now.

Leila Hart’s fast-growing friendship with Jackson is something she’d never risk, no matter how unbelievably seductive the reward. Becoming an NFL sportscaster has always been the goal, and thanks to Jackson’s fierce support and mentoring, it all finally seems within reach. Problem is, a girl can only take so much of that sexy-as-sin voice whispering dirty, filthy football stats in her ear before she loses all self-control. A workplace romance with Jackson is a disaster waiting to happen, especially for someone with big dreams . . . and secrets of her own.

Slowly, so slowly she could easily walk away if she wanted to, he closed the distance be- tween them and then backed her up against the wall behind his open door, thankful that he hadn’t remembered to raise the privacy blinds on the picture windows separating his office from the main floor this morning. 

His hands fell to her hips and anchored there, but he kept himself an arm’s length away. Well, half an arm’s length. He was only so strong. “Sunshine, you make me want things I shouldn’t hope for, shouldn’t even imagine I can keep.” 

Eyes wide, voice barely louder than a secret, she asked, “Like what?” 

He went with the answer at the very top of his list. “You.” 

Her breathing hitched on a sexy-as-all-hell little gasp while her hands—which had been driving him crazy in their hovering dance barely an inch away from his obliques—eventually found a place to land. Her fingertips flexed against his muscles on contact, and bunched his shirt at his sides in a slow, curling grip. 

For Jackson, it was like experiencing a tactile purr of pleasure, and good lord, it did a fantastic job of decimating his ability to think straight. 

All the while, she was observing him as closely as he was watching her. From the granite-hard strain locking his forearms to the deep, heavy rise and fall of his lungs, her soft, curious glances tracked every one of his telltale responses to her. 

When her eyes rose up to watch his lips part at the exact moment her palms skimmed lightly over his stomach, what was once simply a charged connection between them quickly turned into a whole-body hack on his senses. And he was defenseless to stop his response when her own lips parted in unconscious invitation. 

He was a goner. 

“Sweetheart, if you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me now. And use short, simple words. I’m not sure my brain can process any more than that at the moment.” 

A deafeningly silent second passed before he felt her hands slide up his tensed torso and rest against his chest, fingers curling into another sexy, soundless purr. 

His mouth came crashing down onto hers a heartbeat later. 

The kiss began spiraling out of control from the very start, detonating as soon as her lips molded to his. His hands, still anchored on her hips, dragged her even closer until she was flush against him. 

It took everything in him to keep the impulse to feel more, do more, have more in check. He drew back, breathing harshly, his heart beating at a medically alarming rate. He had every intention of stopping at that one mind-blowing kiss. 

But then Leila opened her eyes and looked up at him through her lashes, in a mix of veiled hunger and unveiled wonder. 

A silent curse slipped past his lips. The more he got to know her, the weaker he got when it came to Leila. And at the moment, he was wholly unapologetic about it. 

NEW YORK TIMES & USA TODAY bestselling author Violet Duke is a former professor of English Education ecstatic to now be on the other side of the page writing wickedly fun contemporary romances filled with strong, unique heroines and memorably romantic heroes. With just under a million books sold to date, since becoming an author in 2013, Violet has appeared on the USA Today bestseller list thirteen times and the NYT bestseller list three times, with the additional honor of charting in the Top 10 across the major eretailers both in the U.S. and internationally. Her fans, who she just adores to pieces, affectionately call her books sweet & sexy 'laugh & cry' love stories. 

When she's not feeding her book-a-day reading addiction, Violet enjoys tackling reno projects with her power tools, trying pretty much anything without reading the directions first, and cooking impossible-to-be-duplicated 'special edition' dishes that laugh in the face of recipes. A born and raised island girl, she spends her days in Hawai'i chasing after her two cute kids (daughter Violet & son Duke) and similarly adorable husband (their ringleader).

January 30, 2016

~ In The Spotlight! Coming Soon: Debt by Rachel Dunning ~

The Debt Collector

I pay my debts, and I expect others to. 

I was raised in the slums of London, I knew nothing of privilege. My father was murdered when I was seventeen. Morty figured my father's passing meant I would automatically take on dad's debts. I refused. 

And I paid for that refusal. 

So did my sister. 

So now I fight. All I know how to do is fight. The best cash is in the states, so that's where I am now. A big fish called Vito came along offering me a "favor" when I arrived.

Another debt.

I paid for that one too. 

I knew Kyla Hensley would be trouble when I met her. But I wanted her. I could see through the falsehood of her wannabe-slutty clothes and her sexy legs. So I chased her. 

Besides, trouble is my middle name. 

Kyla Hensley

I was brought up in privilege, but I lacked everything else. My father is a business tycoon who buys and sells and doesn't care who gets rolled over in the process. 

I never knew my mother, and all I have of her is a photo with a note scrawled on the back in French saying "I'm sorry." The only Female Figure I had growing up is my dad's wife who is a bleach blond with seven boob jobs. We never bonded.

I drink. I party. I meet guys.

But I wasn't always like that. 

I've had a string of lovers in the last few years, the worst and most recent of which was Vince Somerset. My best friend Vera was dating a guy called Rory Cansoom who is the opposite of Vince in so many ways, and yet so the same. 

She and I hit the road for the summer, getting away from the two college psychos and just trying to have some fun. 

But there's a funny thing about trouble, the more you run from it, the more it finds you. 

Which is when I met the Debt Collector

It was only supposed to be sex. He made that clear. I made that clear. 

That's all it was supposed to be.

I never expected to fall in love. I never expected to fall so deeply, madly, uncomfortably in love with a man who is wrong, so wrong for me. 

And unbelievably right.


“How long you staying?” Vera asks.

“Don’t know. He asked me to stay.”

Vera cocks an eyebrow, looking down at me with folded arms and knitted brows. 

“What?” I say.

She shakes her head. “You’ve been here all night, Kyla. It’s bad enough you stormed into that ring for a dude you don’t know shit about.”

He asked me to stay. “Just...let him wake up...and then... I don’t know.” I just freaked out, and I don’t know why I freaked out, and now I want to know that he’s not frickin brain-dead.

“Did he at least say anything when you went in there?”

“He, uhm, looked at my boobs.”

Vera can’t stop herself from smiling. “He looked at your boobs.”


“That’s all he did?”

“My legs, too.”

“Dude’s been out the whole night and the first thing he thinks of is a booty call.”


“He is magnetic and an Alpha to his core.”
Lunaland Books ☆☆☆☆☆ Review

“I was sucked into this book from page one!
“The Debt Collector is sexy as sin and the ultimate Alpha male!!”
Alpha Book Club ☆☆☆☆☆ Review

Rachel Dunning hit the scene in August 2013 and is the author of the highly praised Naive Mistakes Series, Truthful Lies Trilogy, Johnny Series and the paranormal romance series, Mind Games.

A prolific writer, she sticks to stories where Alpha Males aren’t pricks and where women have guts.

She’s lived on two different continents, speaks three different languages, and met the love of her life on the internet. In other words, romance is in her blood.
Get Rachel’s Newsletter

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January 29, 2016

Author Interview, Excerpt & Giveaway: Save of the Game, Scoring Chances #2 by Avon Gale

After last season’s heartbreaking loss to his hockey team’s archrival, Jacksonville Sea Storm goalie Riley Hunter is ready to let go of the past and focus on a winning season. His new roommate, Ethan Kennedy, is a loud New Yorker with a passion for social justice that matches his role as the team’s enforcer. The quieter Riley is attracted to Ethan and has no idea what to do about it.

Ethan has no hesitations. As fearless as his position demands, he rushes into things without much thought for the consequences. Though they eventually warm to their passionate new bond, it doesn’t come without complications. While trying to financially help Ethan, Riley must hide his family’s wealth so as not to hurt Ethan’s immense pride. For their relationship to work, Ethan will need to learn when to keep the gloves on and let someone help him—and Riley will have to learn it’s okay to let someone past his defenses.

Today I’m very lucky to be interviewing Avon Gale author of Save of the Game.

Hi Avon, thank you for agreeing to this interview. Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.

Do you buy a book because of the cover, the blurb, or something else?

Any and all of those! Blurbs usually get me since I’m a word person, but I love a good, intriguing cover. Usually though I read the blurb, and I get a lot of recommendations from friends. I love the “recommendations” features on Amazon and GoodReads, and I also love those user-created lists on GoodReads. 

What does ‘romance’ mean to you?

I generally say that what I find romantic is when two people are better together than they are apart. I’m not really a sentimental person, and my characters don’t tend to be, either. Romance to me is about how people treat each other and respect their partner(s) as individuals and equals, no matter what other dynamics are at play in the relationship. I consider myself a character-driven writer and the thing I love about romance is writing people’s relationships – not only with each other, but family and friends, too. It’s why I tend to have a lot of secondary characters in my books. I also find confidence and security in one’s relationship to be romantic, which is why my characters often express that they are attracted to other people to their partners, even if it’s just in fantasy and they don’t do anything about it (or even if they do!) Celebrating all kinds of sexuality is a big thing for me as a writer. 

What are your current projects?

Currently I’m editing the draft of the fourth Scoring Chances novel, getting it ready for submission to Dreamspinner. I’m also working on two novellas, one about a bourbon distillery in a small Kentucky town and one about old time hockey players in the 30’s. Novel-wise, I have a book about rock singers and a fantasy novel to finish up. I have a thousand WIPs, it’s really ridiculous. 

What is the most difficult part of writing for you?

Editing that first complete draft, ugh! I’m a very fast writer but a sloooooow editor. I can complete a book in half the time it takes me to edit it into something manageable. I don’t generally outline unless I get lost somewhere in the 40K mark (okay, let me rephrase that – I generally don’t outline UNTIL I get lose somewhere in the 40K mark :D ) so a lot of my character development happens as I’m writing. It makes for a wordy manuscript with a TON of irrelevant background information that I have to cut out. It means I know my characters well, but it often bogs the story down. One of my goals as a writer is to get better at avoiding the “info dump” and work on my incorporating backstory into the main story. 

Tell us something about yourself that would surprise people.

People are sometimes surprised to find out that I went to graduate school for ancient history. I studied military colonization of the Spartan military. It’s really boring. But I love Spartan history and Bronze Age Greece stuff, and all my schooling is in classics, art history and history. Yet I write contemporary romance about hockey players and am a hair stylist at my day job! Academia wasn’t for me, but I will never regret the chance to study what I did for seven years, even if wild horses – centaurs even – couldn’t drag me back to graduate school. 

His phone beeped, alerting him that he had a new text message. It was from Ethan Kennedy, the defenseman the Storm had acquired before the trade deadline last spring. The rowdy Kennedy, who had a heavy New York accent and was a huge fan of the New York Rangers—a team Riley hated, by virtue of being a New Jersey Devils fan—had bunked with him for a few weeks during the finals. He’d gone back to New York after the Storm lost in the playoffs. Riley hadn’t been sure if he was coming back or not, but the text message indicated he’d just gotten back to town, and would Riley mind picking him up from the airport?

And oh, he got a cheaper rate by flying into Tampa, which was three hours away. Was that a problem? And one last thing. Riley didn’t need a roommate by any chance. Did he?

Riley looked around his apartment, which was nice and clean and quiet. Just like it always was, except for those few weeks last spring when Ethan was there. He was loud and messy and always in Riley’s space, left half-full cans of Pepsi everywhere, drank whiskeys with dubious-sounding names, and smoked like a chimney.

be there in 3 hrs, Riley texted and grabbed a few boxes of coconut water out of his fridge. The idea of coming home alone after games reminded him of those car rides in Wyoming, and he was getting tired of the silence.

Avon Gale was once the mayor on Foursquare of Jazzercise and Lollicup, which should tell you all you need to know about her as a person. She likes road trips, rock concerts, drinking Kentucky bourbon and yelling at hockey. She’s a displaced southerner living in a liberal midwestern college town, and when she’s not writing you can find her at the salon, making her clients look and feel fabulous. She never gets tired of people and their stories -- either real or the ones she makes up in her head.

December 7, 2015

Excerpt & Giveaway! Game Winner, New York Kings #6 by Collette West

Playing center field for the New York Kings, Jake Woodbury has one of the most prestigious jobs in all of sports. To the world, he's the good-looking, soft-spoken minister's son who’s survived celebrity without a hint of scandal. But, inside, he's reeling from a secret that seems destined to haunt him forever.

Scarlett Moore is one of the biggest pop stars on the planet, famous for singing about her celebrity ex-boyfriends. The CEO of her record label has carefully honed her provocative image since she was fifteen. Sex sells, and Scarlett’s well aware that it takes more than talent to stay on top.

One thing is clear: She’s the last thing Jake needs. And he’s the do-gooder jock she should avoid at all costs. But when the game begins, all bets are off.

Mid-smile, I turn my head toward the on-deck circle and catch Jake Woodbury staring in our direction.

He must be looking over at his ex, Roberta, trying to get her attention. What a sucker. Dude, let it go.

But, when Roberta bends down to get something out of her bag, his eyes don’t pull away. In fact, he even grins slightly, and I realize he’s not looking at her. He’s looking at me.

Okay, I'm used to guys checking me out. It's nothing new. But, just as my skin starts to prickle, he looks away.

Maybe he's just trying to make Roberta jealous by coming on to me in front of her. Yeah, that must be it. It's too good of an opportunity to pass up, what with Scarlett Moore, the princess of pop, sitting right next to his ex. But this is neither the time nor the place for him to be openly flirting with me. He has a job to do. A very important job: get on base and kick-start the Kings' lineup. But all he's doing is kick-starting my beating heart.

But, if I'm being totally honest with myself, that's not what this feels like. In fact, it feels like he couldn't care less that his ex is sitting beside me.

And then I know I'm not imagining things when he takes his bat off his shoulder and points the end of the barrel at me.

"This one's for you, Scarlett!" he calls out while confidently striding by. 

I smile, despite myself. All right. I’ll play along with you, hot stuff.

Before I can even think twice about it, I raise a hand to my lips and blow him a kiss.


Collette West grew up as somewhat of a jock-nerd hybrid. Entering the world three weeks premature, her dad nearly missed her birth because he had seats behind the dugout for a sold-out, highly-anticipated match-up between two of baseball's biggest rivals. Not to be outdone, her book-loving mom taught her how to read by the time she was three. A love of the game coupled with an appreciation for the written word were instilled in Collette's impressionable brain from a young age. No wonder her characters believe in the philosophy: sports + romance = a little slice of heaven. 
Splitting her time between the Pocono Mountains and Manhattan, Collette indulges her inner fangirl by going to as many games as she can from hockey to baseball and downloading every sports romance novel in existence onto her iPad. When she's not clicking away on her laptop, she enjoys walking her dog in Central Park, satisfying her caffeine craving at the Starbucks on Broadway and keeping an eye out for Mr. Right. But above all, she loves dishing with her readers. Email her at 
She is the author of NIGHT GAMES, GAME CHANGER and GAME ON.

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