on January 1st 1970
Buy on Amazon
*A Standalone novel*
I’m NHL defenseman Lance Romero, AKA Lance “Romance."
I’m notorious for parties and excess. I have the most penalty minutes in the league. I get into the most fights. I take the most hits. I’m a player on and off the ice. I’m the one women with no inhibitions want.
Not because I like the notoriety, but because I don’t know how to be any other way.
I have secrets. Ones I shared with the wrong person, and she used them against me. Sometimes she still does. I should cut ties. But she makes it difficult, because she’s the kind of bad I deserve.
At least that’s what I believed until someone from my past gets caught up in my present. She’s all the good things in this world. She lights up my dark.
I shouldn’t want her.
But I do.
I should leave her alone.
But I won’t.
Ok Quinn….breath, it will be ok. Just because it’s over doesn’t mean that it’s actually over.
Wow. Whoever thinks that Randy Balls couldn’t be knocked off his thrown as the fav “Pucked” hero has another thing coming, and his name is Lance Romero. I always knew that Helena was capable of this. That she could pull off a book with this level of incredible depth and heartache. But the fact that she did this with Lance ???….it just makes me love her even more!
I absolutely love this quirky series, but Pucked Off is going to stand out from the rest. Something that I love about the Pucked Series is that it’s mostly a fun, light hearted series with a lot of crazy characters that go through a lot of drama to finally fall in love. But Lance’s story is a bit different and so much more than I expected!
First, I was really hoping that Helena was going to go with the heroine that I wanted. After reading the books prior to it, there are a couple of options, so when I realized that she went with the one I was hoping for I was SO DAMN EXCITED!
This book is a slow and sweet seduction. This is not a typical pace for Lance. He definitely got his reputation based on how he goes through woman. This troupe is a particular weakness for me, and Helena does it with absolute perfection!
I love seeing Lance so vulnerable and full of self-loathing. Each time he let a little bit of his Scottish accent out, I was fanning myself! We discover a whole new character that is slowly unveiled in front of us. Lance has a scarred past, one that makes him feel undeserving of happiness. But it’s our heroine that changes his mind. He shouldn’t want her, he shouldn’t pursue her, but he can’t help himself. He’s desperate for the normalcy that he finds in our heroine.
We discover how charming and sincere Lance can be through his genuine pursuit for the eye of his affection. It literally swept me off my feet. I couldn’t stop reading!
There’s a theme throughout this book: touch. Holy shit….it’s hot. It’s sexy. It’s seductive. It’s sweet. It’s innocent. It’s PERFECTION! I started to realize all the ways touch can make you feel. It can make you tingle, shiver, chill or heat your skin. It can hurt, it can sting, and leave marks that are visible or buried deep inside. But it can also calm and sooth your mind, body and soul. And our heroine’s touch is Lance’s undoing. It’s his solace. It’s his freedom.
While reading this ARC I wrote down pages of notes, highlighted dozens of quotes, but didn’t even look at a single one when typing this up. I basically just poured my heart out to you guys, and I hope that you can appreciate that I didn’t get fancy with it. I didn’t even want to reveal the heroine in hopes that you feel the same way I did when I discovered who she is. This is definitely going to be one of my top reads this year! I can’t wait for you all to fall in love with this couple like I did!
Buy it Here:
Armed with my clipboard, I walk down the hall to the waiting room. Lance is impossible to miss. Despite the fact that he’s wearing a sweatshirt and the hood is covering half of his face, he’s more than six feet of broad, hockey-playing man.
He’s so wide his shoulders encroach on the chairs on either side, which would explain why no one is sitting next to him. He’s slouched down so his head rests on the back of the chair, and his hands are clasped in his lap, a baseball cap hanging off one knee. His lips, plush and soft—I know since I’ve had them on mine; it might have been a decade ago, but I remember it clearly—are parted. He looks like he’s asleep.
I clear my throat. “Lance Romero?”
He doesn’t move.
Bernadette, the receptionist, gives me a meaningful look.
I clear my throat again and call his name a second time. He jolts awake and the hood falls back, exposing his face. It’s not in good shape. He has a black eye and bruises on his left cheek. There’s a fly bandage across one eyebrow.
Sadly, he’s still hot.
He blinks a few times, yawns, and smacks his lips, his tongue touching the split in the bottom one. His gaze sweeps the room and finally lands on me. Heat explodes in my cheeks and courses through my limbs, warming me from the inside out as he starts at my sneaker-clad feet and roams up over my yoga pants to my company-issued T-shirt before stopping at my face. I can’t look directly at him for more than a couple of seconds. I sincerely hope he doesn’t remember me. I cannot go there and also be professional.
I’m sure the smile he gives me has melted many a panty off a slutty bunny. Mine stay right where they’re supposed to, wedged up my ass.
I force a polite, professional veneer. “I’m ready for you now.”