#MF #Hockey #Romance
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Blurb:
Life hasn’t been easy
for Venom goalie coach, Alice Dunlop. She battled her way out of childhood
poverty to earn recognition as a medal winning player in her youth. After a
terrible loss ended her first marriage, she vowed to never put down roots in
one city ever again. Then the offer to coach in the pros came along and with
that job, a move to the City of Brotherly Love was required. She never expected
to meet Bruno “The Bruiser” Bonbano, the burly ex-Wildcats defenseman. Things
were supposed to be all about the physical and not so much the emotional. Guess
no one told Alice’s heart that.
As her team scratched and clawed its way through a season filled with ups-and-downs, Alice found herself forming a true bond with the city, the players, and the other coaches. She also ended up falling in love with Bruno. As her team rolls into the playoffs, Alice and Bruno are about to come face to face with devastating news. Secrets decades old will be revealed that may bring the life she now has crashing down around her. In the face of a medical nightmare, will love, family, and hockey be enough?
As her team scratched and clawed its way through a season filled with ups-and-downs, Alice found herself forming a true bond with the city, the players, and the other coaches. She also ended up falling in love with Bruno. As her team rolls into the playoffs, Alice and Bruno are about to come face to face with devastating news. Secrets decades old will be revealed that may bring the life she now has crashing down around her. In the face of a medical nightmare, will love, family, and hockey be enough?
R-Rated Excerpt:
There were two things I could count on every morning. One
was waking up with a man who was roughly the same size, strength, length, soft
downy furriness, and temperament as a grizzly bear. Two was Regimental Sergeant
Major Bigglestrap would be at my door precisely at seven with breakfast, the Philadelphia Inquisitor, Philly’s
biggest daily newspaper, and a proper dose of dry British commentary to go
along with my muffin and coffee. If the resident manager of the Philadelphia
Century Way was taller, stronger, hairier, and grumpier I’d set my cap for him.
Thing Number One had one massive arm resting on my hip as
he huffed into the back of my head. The hair covering his chest, stomach, and
thighs tickled my back and ass but it was a pleasant tickle, not the kind that made you shriek. Figuring that Bruno
wouldn’t rouse unless I dropped a safe on him, I wiggled my ass back into him,
keeping my eyes shut as I willed sleep to come back. His body heat radiated out
and over me. I sighed and burrowed my face into my pillow, inhaling the scent
of clean linen and hot man.
“You wiggling that ass against my dick for a reason?” my
bed partner asked, his arm sliding forward to allow his hand to slip between my
legs.
“I’m cold,” I replied.
“Uh-huh.” Bruno
grunted, cupping my mound gently as his cock slowly plumped up. Generally morning sex wasn’t my thing. Grungy
mouth, unwashed body, sleep dirt in my eyes, no lipstick. Something about Bruno
Bonbano seemed to make me forget a lot of my hang-ups from time to time. I’d
just parted my legs for his seeking fingers when two sharp, precise knocks fell
on the door. “For fuck’s sake.” Bruno snarled into the back of my head.
“I can tell him to leave the food.” His hand slipped out
from between my thighs as his lips fell to my shoulder. He nipped the skin
lightly then patted my stomach.
“Nah, let him in. I have to meet Alain in an hour at the
practice rink to help set up that summer league.”
Knowing the hoped-for tryst was not going to happen, I sat
up, thumbed some hair from my face, and enjoyed the sight of my lover leaving
my bed. Bruno was a large man. He stood six feet six inches and weighed probably
two-fifty or two-sixty, all that still solid muscle. Wide shoulders and lean waist, he’d been a force to be reckoned with as
a defenseman back when he played for the Wildcats. The rigors of professional
hockey and several concussions had nudged him into retiring. Nudged might not
be the right term. According to Alain Lessard, who has known Bruno since birth,
the last concussion had body-checked the man out of the sport. To this day,
he’s not quite right, and I have fears…
“Are he and Viviana staying here for the summer then?” I
asked while kicking off the covers and burrowing around in the clothes piled in
a nicely stuffed chair for my robe. Thank God for room service and hotel
laundry. Bigglestrap knocked again. I hurried to pull the quilted belt attached
to my robe from the mound of dirty clothing.
“Don’t know yet. Probably.” Bruno padded past the door,
turned the knob, and flung it open. I spun around and shoved my arms into the
robe, bitching at Bruno all the while. “Morning, Biggie.” Bruno grunted before closing the bathroom door behind his
bare ass.
“Yes, well, good morning to you as well, Mr. Bonbano.
Coach Dunlop, you’re a vision as always,” the resident manager said then
stepped into my room. Rick, the bellhop who always brings my breakfast scurried
into my suite, parked the trolley, tapped his hat, and then hustled out.
“And you, Sergeant Major, are full of shit. Thank you.” I
took the neatly folded daily newspaper from him then lifted a few lids off the
servers. Eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, and orange juice. “Looks delicious.
Anything new in this?” I shook the paper before pouring myself a cup of coffee.
The thin man in the black suit shook his neatly-combed head. Jane had once
commented that you could plumb a house with Bigglestrap’s part, and she was
right. I often wondered if he used a ruler to ensure his dark hair was parted
correctly.
“No, nothing of great interest. The mayor is talking about
a summer fest which could be rather refreshing. Let’s hope he doesn’t invite
that tawdry chit who won that last talent show the radio station that employs
Ms. West ran. I’ve heard more melodious tunes coming from my parrot, Joffrey.”
He moved around the suite opening draperies as he chatted with an air of
professional confidence. Why he – the resident manager – came to my room every
day like this was anyone’s guess. Bruno said he thought Biggie, a nickname that
Bruno had picked up from Jane, had a crush on me. I thought that was utter
horseshit and had told Bruno that. Still, his coming here every morning was a
bit odd but welcomed just the same. I liked him, and I loved his hotel. Renting a suite here was perfect.
Month to month commitment. No roots to hold me in this city if the skyscrapers
began to capture the dark memories of my lost son. “Oh! And there’s a lovely
article about the Venom on the front of the sports page. Seems your women
making it into the playoffs while the Wildcats didn’t is setting off the
wagging tongues.”
“I figured that would twist a few panties.” I commented then took a sip of the hotel’s amazing
coffee.
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