Summary:
Chestorford Coyotes #1
A coming-of-age love story with high school, hockey rivalry, friendship, family, and coming out.
Soren’s life changes in an instant when he and his younger brother are adopted by hockey royalty. Making sense of his new life is hard enough, but when he’s enrolled in a private school it means facing a whole new set of problems. Navigating friendship, family, and hockey is one thing, but being attracted to the boy who vexes him is a whole new thing..
Felix has a reputation to protect. He's the kid who seems to have everything but looks can be deceiving. Spinning lies about his perfect life, he’s created a fantasy world that even he has started to believe. Only, it’s not long before everything crumbles, all of his pretty lies are revealed, and only his closest rival sees through his pain and stands by him.
Fighting is easy, friendship is hard, but love is everything.
Original Review July 2023:
There are 2 types of a**hole characters in fiction:
1. The truly evil bad guy that you are left salivating over the idea of their hopefully very painful demise.
2. The good guy with a very weighty chip on their shoulder that you know will soften and grow but still want to smack with an iron skillet to the back of the head at times.
Felix falls under #2. Oh how I wanted to knock some sense into him on many occasions BUT I also knew he had to get there on his own to fully grow. Authors can't help him, it's his journey and knowingly or cluelessly, he controls the timeline😉. There were enough hints throughout his inner monologues that made me empathize with him but in no way excused his actions. Soren on the other hand is all kinds of adorableness. Having read Perfect Gifts in the authors' Harrisburg Railers series, I was aware of Soren's background and how he and his brother, Milo, came to be in the Madsen-Rowe household. So I watched a very similar but not equal chip disappear from the teenager's shoulder previously. There will always be hints of said chip there considering his journey to Ten & Jared's door but he understands it and has learned to cope, making him older than his years yet still very much a teenager.
Put these two lads together and the chemistry is undeniable but it's not easy. It's Scott and Locey so you know the HEA is a foregone conclusion but the journey getting there is where the fun is. I'll admit there are times when you doubt wanting Felix to find that HEA but then he does or says something that surprises you, course then there is the one thing(and no I'm not telling what that is) that breaks your heart instantly because it appears to show a backward slide in his growth. Sometimes one needs to be shattered to finally find perspective and that's what happens to Felix and things slowly but realistically change. I know that sounds very vague but I don't want to spoil anything, just because we know it'll end in HEA doesn't mean we know what they win and lose to get there.
Now I mentioned Railers entry, Perfect Gifts above being where we are introduced to Soren and Milo and though I highly recommend reading, at the very least the Ten/Jared entries in that series first, it's not a must. You won't be lost if you start with Off the Ice. It's just a personal need to read character growth in progression so that my heart can fully connect to said characters, but that's just me.
Truth is, with a few exceptions(Little House and Anne of Green Gables books that I shared with my grandmother) I haven't read too many young adult stories since I was 12 or 13. At that time I read Judy Blume's Forever after which I went straight from Blume to Sidney Sheldon, Danielle Steel, LaVyrle Spencer, and a few Jackie Collins. . . in terms of reading lets just say I grew up very quickly. I mention this because I can't honestly compare Off the Ice to other YA stories in the LGBTQ genre in regards to handling pure adolescent narratives. What I can compare it to is the beauty in which Scott & Locey have written the characters' natural, realistic, and completely relatable growth that makes a good story great.
Honestly? I think the fact that I don't seek out YA genre and still loved every word of Off the Ice speaks more volume to the amazingness of the story than anything else I could put in to words so maybe I'll just end my review with that sentiment.
Chapter One
Soren
“…a good summer where you enjoyed yourselves and, yet, practiced and worked out as much as possible. Welcome to the JV Hockey squad, which is a responsibility to not only yourself, but to your family and, perhaps biggest of all, to Chesterford Academy.”
Coach Sennett paused as he scanned the room. I’d heard a similar speech to this last year, only then, it had been me as a newbie, unsure of my place in the world, let alone the team.
“Remember that what you accomplish on the ice, here, follows you through the rest of your lives. What you strive for academically, also will. We’ve lost some of our seniors, but we’ve picked up some new faces, and we’ll work hard to come together as a team first, then, we’ll click as the champions I know we can be. Go Coyotes!”
“Go Coyotes!”
We all shouted and clapped for Coach’s speech. Everyone respected our coach because he was a good guy, warm and open to all his players. He’d played in the AHL for seventeen years, then took this position after he retired, and his word was law.
When he and the other coaches—both volunteers—as well as Mr. Holley, our hockey director, left the locker room, we all looked at each other. Coach was right, there were new faces. Some freshmen who’d managed to fill the open slots on the team, but there were more sophomores—like me—and it was on the older guys to help the younger ones.
Shaun Stanton stood up and addressed the room from the lofty position of being the best player on the team from last year. “Okay, Connor Clooney, our previous captain, is now on the varsity team, so we’re going to need to think and vote on a new captain. Voting will run through the next two weeks, so think hard on who you feel will fill the role best.” He smiled at the newbies. “I know you freshmen don’t know us well, but we’re all amazing, smart, and incredibly handsome.” We all chuckled. It was obviously true, but we all knew we’d be voting to make Shaun our new captain. “You’ll get to know us better over the course of our practices leading up to the season opener against the Altoona Hawks.”
We all booed at the name of one of our competitors. The freshmen joined in, and we were already bonding. Coach would be so proud. Smiling at the bullshit Shaun was tossing out, I scanned the room, happy to be back for another season. I enjoyed the sport, and while some people thought I was for sure aiming to be a pro player, given one of my adoptive fathers —Tennant Madsen-Rowe—was a generational phenom and skated for the Harrisburg Railers; not to mention my other dad—Jared Madsen-Rowe—was a coach for the Railers and played at the NHL level; I wasn’t sure that was what I wanted to do with my life.
I really enjoyed working with kids, so maybe a counselor? I knew what it was like to come up through the system before being lucky enough to get adopted. Still, I had time to figure it out. As my one dad, Jared, said: “There’s no need to decide your entire future before you can even drive.” Not that driving was that far off. I’d be sixteen in October.
My adoptive parents are cool. Jared is cool. So is Ten. I couldn’t have asked for better fathers for me and Milo. I couldn’t be luckier.
Raucous laughter came from the far corner where Felix Maxwell-Sinclair held court. Ugh. That dude was a complete dick, and the only person from last year’s team that I detested. I wasn’t sure how he could skate, what with that fat head and that stick shoved so far up his ass. I mean, sure, he was cute, hot even, but man… those looks did not make up for his toilet personality. Richest kid on campus, he had two lumbering dumb-ass suck-ups who followed him everywhere, and who laughed loudly at whatever Felix said. Given the way the ass was staring at the back of my friend Tyler’s head, I bet he’d said something nasty.
Tyler—my fellow winger—was jawing about something, and then, he turned to face Felix, saying something. Felix was wearing that sneer that someday, someone would be jonesing to knock off his face, and I hoped I was there to witness it.
Just as I was thinking of Felix’s face meeting a fist, he shot to his feet, gave Tyler a shove, and jumped on the smaller guy when Tyler fell off the bench to the floor. I reacted instantly, and was into the fray in a second, rolling Felix off Tyler with a body check that would have cleared any of the Railers off their skates. Not really, but it sounded boss. Tyler was smaller than most, a speed demon on ice, but we protected him—I protected him.
“Get the fuck off me!” Felix snarled, swinging at me as we grappled for control. He was strong, about my height and weight, but I had the advantage. Or I thought I did. He swung back in a flash, clocking me in the mouth. My front teeth dug into my lower lip, and I tasted blood, which kind of pissed me off. We wrestled around amid shouts from our teammates until I managed to get him under control. Mostly.
He was splayed out on the floor, his face pressed into a pair of wet sneakers lying in front of a locker. I put my knee into his back while the other guys scrambled to get Tyler on his feet.
“What the hell, Sinclair?” I barked down at Felix. We never used our full last names, not since he’d decided that having gay dads meant I didn’t deserve to inherit both last names. Whatever. He hated that I responded in kind, and that was just one more point against the freaking idiot.
“Get off my back, Rowe!” he snarled, adding something else to the comment, which was hard to make out since his face was jammed into a skanky, soggy, grey and black Nike belonging to one of the guys who had run here across the sodden sports field. Caleb had kicked them off to wring out his socks but had yet to dress his smelly feet. Caleb liked to hear us complain about his foot stink for some reason. Dude was weird.
It sounded like Felix might have used a queer slur, but I couldn’t be sure it was the F-word, although I’d heard him use it before. He should think twice about using that in front of me. My new family was all kinds of queer, as were I and a few other players. Coach, also, did not put up with any racist, sexist, or queer slurs. I’d already hit Felix once, way back, when he started shit about my dads, but that had ended up with me in an office with my new dads, wondering if they were going to send me back in the system.
Of course, they hadn’t—they loved me and Milo, and wanted us as their sons, alongside their daughter. We were family, and it was all official and everything. Still, the thought that I’d disappoint my dads meant I genuinely tried not to rise to Felix and hit him again.
But he’d jumped Tyler, and that wasn’t right.
I glanced up through my mop of dark hair that really did need cutting, to see Tyler was on his feet, shaking. I swallowed blood, jumping off Felix before stumbling to stand and taking a few steps back to give him room. He pushed to his expensive sneakers, blond hair in his eyes, mud smeared across his cheek and mouth, and glared at me.
“Fuck right off, Rowe!” Felix shouted, then pulled the back of his hand across his face.
“What happened?” One of the team asked.
Tyler began rambling about breakfast cereal and how he hoped his mom had bought milk so he could stuff himself on Count Chocula when he got home, and that he thought Felix might not like cereal. None of that made any sense at all, and I eyed Felix as he spat on the floor, then shoved people aside to stalk out of the locker room, never bothering to explain why he’d jumped Tyler.
“Okay, so Sinclair is obviously not a fan of the deliciousness that is Count Chocula,” I said loudly, hoping to deescalate things a bit. A few of the guys snickered. Tyler gave me a look and a shrug. I licked at the split on my lip. Blood still oozed out of it. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain a split lip to my father when he picked me up in fifteen minutes, but I was the king of quick thinking. I’d come up with something…
* * *
“Okay,so you want to run that past me again?” Dad asked as I buckled into the passenger seat. Milo was in the back, brown eyes wide, staring at me openly. He also went to Chesterford Academy, but the elementary school building was on the other side of the large green grounds.
“I tripped going into homeroom,” I said, peeking into the backseat at my ten-year-old brother. His eyes were round as hubcaps. “I’m a dork.”
“Your feet are too big,” Milo said, his worry seeming to disappear after I gave him a lopsided smile.
It hurt to smile, but for him I would. Then, I leaned around the seat even more to wink at my little sister, Lottie. Charlotte had started kindergarten this year and was in her car seat reading. The girl read a lot. Like all the time. Simple words mostly, but she was growing her vocabulary daily. She was always coming to me to read big books to her, and we spent hours curled up with fantasy novels—me, her, Milo, and our dog, Gordie, on the couch in the playroom reading about dragons, heroes and heroines, and mystical palaces floating in the clouds.
“Your feet smell,” Charlotte told me. I stuck out my tongue, and she giggled.
“Soren, your lip?” Dad asked, pulling me back to the puffy lip and outright lie I’d decided to tell. It kind of sat badly on my tongue. Or maybe that was the rank taste of old blood. No, it was the lie. Totally. I undid my tie with a sigh.
“Tripped. I was looking at Chelsea Myers’ new sweater and—”
“Right, we don’t need to go into more detail,” Jared said, rolling his eyes to the back seat.
“Why did she get a new sweater?” Milo asked as he tried to dig something out from under his booster seat.
“Is it pink?” Lottie inquired from behind me. She was into pink. This week. Last week it was purple. The week before red. Which was why everyone in the house got new mani/pedis every week. All three of us wore Chesterford uniforms in red, black, and blue, our school colors. Lottie’s was a little pleated skirt in dark blue, while Milo and I wore slacks. Sexist much, board members? Like, are we in the fifties or what?
“No, it was white and fluffy,” I replied, Jared giving me a look. “Chelsea has really nice…sweaters.”
“Mm-hmm,” Jared mumbled as we waited for the kids in front of us to pile into their cars. “It’s nice to know that the young lady has attractive clothing.”
Jared was bi, like me, so he got the whole pretty girls in sweaters thing. So did his son—my half-brother now—Ryker, NHL skater who was also bi, but married to a gay guy. Like Jared was to Ten. As I said, our house was queer from floor to rafter.
“Yep, really nice sweaters.” I smiled at the mental image of Chelsea. Yeah, she had incredibly nice sweaters.
“Try to keep your eyes on where your feet are taking you instead of sweaters next time,” Jared said, easing away from the curb to follow a gold SUV away from the drop-off and pick-up point at the front of the administration building. The school buses Chesterford provided to students within a certain radius of the school had already left for the day. I’d been a little late for pickup due to hockey practice, or hockey-hello-again day I guess it would be called. “How was the welcome back to the Coyotes meeting?”
“Oh, cool. Yeah, it was tight.”
“Tight. Good. Well, as long as it was tight.” Dad smiled at me, then turned out of the circular driveway to head back to Harrisburg and home. I already had homework. The first day of school, and the teachers were nailing us with work. I mean yeah, I was an honors student, but did we have to jump into calculus on day one? No, no we didn’t. It sucked. Kind of like Felix Maxwell-Sinclair. Maybe Felix sucked more. It was too close to call, to be honest.
Saturday's Series Spotlight
RJ ScottWriting love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee.
(Not necessarily in that order.)
She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.
RJ Scott
Harrisburg Railers Series
Owatonna U Series
Arizona Raptors Series
Boston Rebels Series
Sparkle #1.5(LA Storm)
Railers Legacy Series
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