Goal LineSummary:
Harrisburg Railers #6
Fear and sadness mark Bryan’s life, can Gatlin show him that you have to trust before you can love?
Gatlin Pearce is creeping up on thirty-eight and is still single. It’s not that he wants to be alone, it’s just that he’s too damn old to be in clubs filled with glittery gay boys who can’t even tell him who the Rolling Stones are.
Better to just spend his evenings at Hard Score Ink - his tattoo and artwork shop - creating masterpieces on human flesh, listening to the Railers games, and nursing a cold beer.
His solitary life is about to end when Bryan Delaney, the new Railers backup goalie, shows up at his shop looking for new artwork for his helmet. There’s some sort of sad story in those beautiful eyes of Bryan’s, and Gatlin finds himself more than a little infatuated with the tender new goalie.
Bryan Delaney leaves home at fifteen to live with a billet family. He just wishes that he could have escaped his alcoholic father and strictly devout mother earlier. Drafted to the Arizona Raptors he finds a new family, and his first love affair even if that relationship is marked with violence.
Being traded to the Railers is a shock to the system but the team isn’t like any other he’s ever played on and they truly seem to care about him. It’s only when he meets artist Gatlin, with their shared love of music and hockey, that he realizes how hard it is to escape the past.
Gatlin Pearce is creeping up on thirty-eight and is still single. It’s not that he wants to be alone, it’s just that he’s too damn old to be in clubs filled with glittery gay boys who can’t even tell him who the Rolling Stones are.
Better to just spend his evenings at Hard Score Ink - his tattoo and artwork shop - creating masterpieces on human flesh, listening to the Railers games, and nursing a cold beer.
His solitary life is about to end when Bryan Delaney, the new Railers backup goalie, shows up at his shop looking for new artwork for his helmet. There’s some sort of sad story in those beautiful eyes of Bryan’s, and Gatlin finds himself more than a little infatuated with the tender new goalie.
Bryan Delaney leaves home at fifteen to live with a billet family. He just wishes that he could have escaped his alcoholic father and strictly devout mother earlier. Drafted to the Arizona Raptors he finds a new family, and his first love affair even if that relationship is marked with violence.
Being traded to the Railers is a shock to the system but the team isn’t like any other he’s ever played on and they truly seem to care about him. It’s only when he meets artist Gatlin, with their shared love of music and hockey, that he realizes how hard it is to escape the past.
Summary:
Arizona Raptors #1
When opposites attract, it’s not just the team that’s in for a shake-up.
When a stipulation in his father’s will throws Mark back into a family that disowned him, he has only two things on his mind; buying his way out of contractual obligations and running in the opposite direction as fast as he can. When neither option pans out, he finds he is now a one third owner of the struggling Arizona Raptors hockey team, and that is just about the worst thing he could have happened to him. Not only does he hate hockey, but the Raptors are a bottom-of-the-league team, rife with jealousies and anger in a locker room that only knows self-pity. How is he supposed to help turn things around when the only way to start fixing things is to form an alliance with the estranged siblings he’d run from fifteen years earlier?
Then there’s Rowen Carmichael, a stubborn, opinionated, irritating man with superiority issues and questionable taste in music. Butting heads with Rowen, who he’d never even wanted to hire in the first place, is one thing, but there is no way in hell that he will allow the growing attraction to the new coach become anything more. Until with everything on the line, he has to make decisions that will change his life forever.
After years of collegiate coaching, Rowen is given an offer that he simply can’t refuse, although perhaps he should. When he’s presented with the chance to take one of the worst teams in the league and mold them into a future cup contender, the challenge is just too alluring to pass up. He leaves his beloved Ontario behind and moves west to the arid city of Tucson where he is faced with a broken team, shoddy management, and players overflowing with resentment and bigotry.
Never in his twenty years of hockey has he ever seen such a raging dumpster fire of an organization. Yet there’s something about this team and this city that compels him to roll up his sleeves and start dismantling. He has his eye on a new associate coach that’s bound to makes waves, and several key players who should be sent packing. Now all he has to do is convince the new owners of the team that his choices are for the best. If only Mark Westman-Reid, one of three siblings who now own the Raptors, wasn’t so damned rock-headed, so damned snooty, and so damned appealing his job might be a bit easier.
When a stipulation in his father’s will throws Mark back into a family that disowned him, he has only two things on his mind; buying his way out of contractual obligations and running in the opposite direction as fast as he can. When neither option pans out, he finds he is now a one third owner of the struggling Arizona Raptors hockey team, and that is just about the worst thing he could have happened to him. Not only does he hate hockey, but the Raptors are a bottom-of-the-league team, rife with jealousies and anger in a locker room that only knows self-pity. How is he supposed to help turn things around when the only way to start fixing things is to form an alliance with the estranged siblings he’d run from fifteen years earlier?
Then there’s Rowen Carmichael, a stubborn, opinionated, irritating man with superiority issues and questionable taste in music. Butting heads with Rowen, who he’d never even wanted to hire in the first place, is one thing, but there is no way in hell that he will allow the growing attraction to the new coach become anything more. Until with everything on the line, he has to make decisions that will change his life forever.
After years of collegiate coaching, Rowen is given an offer that he simply can’t refuse, although perhaps he should. When he’s presented with the chance to take one of the worst teams in the league and mold them into a future cup contender, the challenge is just too alluring to pass up. He leaves his beloved Ontario behind and moves west to the arid city of Tucson where he is faced with a broken team, shoddy management, and players overflowing with resentment and bigotry.
Never in his twenty years of hockey has he ever seen such a raging dumpster fire of an organization. Yet there’s something about this team and this city that compels him to roll up his sleeves and start dismantling. He has his eye on a new associate coach that’s bound to makes waves, and several key players who should be sent packing. Now all he has to do is convince the new owners of the team that his choices are for the best. If only Mark Westman-Reid, one of three siblings who now own the Raptors, wasn’t so damned rock-headed, so damned snooty, and so damned appealing his job might be a bit easier.
Summary:
Harrisburg Railers #13
An injury threatens to end Stan’s career. Will he choose to fight for his beloved hockey, or put his family first?
Few goalies are as dedicated as Stan Lyamin, known for his resilience on the ice, talking to his pipes, and his love of Elvis. Add in his adoration of his family and his life has been filled with all the things that bring him joy. However, after a heart-wrenching game ends with a disastrous hip injury, Stan faces the most challenging obstacle of his career: surgery, an extensive recovery, and the looming threat of retirement. It’s now that he has to decide which path to take: the one that will lead him back to the game he adores or the one that will see his jersey lifted to the rafters.
Erik and Stan, once invincible with the Railers, have always skated through life's challenges hand in hand. Their love story, cemented by a shared passion for hockey and the joy of raising their children, has been their shield against the world. But when their son Noah’s life is changed forever by a medical diagnosis, this forever love is put to the test. Erik turns to his husband for support, but Stan is consumed with guilt, overwhelmed by decisions, and retreats into himself when his family needs him the most.
Goal Line
Original Review August 2018:
When Bryan Delaney moved in with a billet family when he was fifteen he found the kind of family home he always dreamed of, when he was drafted by the Arizona Raptors his goals were within reach, when he was traded to the Harrisburg Railers he heard repeated warnings from the man he cared for not to trust them. As Gatlin Pearce nears thirty-eight, he finds himself tiring of the club scene so when Railers goalie Stan Lyamin brings in the new backup goalie to have new artwork for his helmet, he finds himself very intrigued. Will Bryan let himself find happiness with the Railers or will he listen to the warnings? Will Gatlin help Bryan adjust to his new home and the freedom that comes with his new team?
Once again I am blown away by the incredible storytelling of RJ Scott and VL Locey in this Harrisburg Railers universe they've created. I have to say that I found Goal Line to be the darker of the series, not so much that I would even tag them as "dark elements" but I just found it to be more angsty in a dark-ish kind of way. Having said that, don't think there isn't the usual light-heartedness that the authors have sprinkled throughout the series between the players because there is plenty. I really don't want to touch on the plot too much as there are a few spoilers for the future and for those who haven't read all the entries in the Harrisburg Railers we get to see some of the previous pairings and where their home life is now so I don't want to shine a light on them either. I will say that you will be mesmerized from beginning to end.
Let's talk about our two guys in Goal Line, Bryan and Gatlin. I'll start by saying if you aren't a fan of May/December romances then you might give their pairing a bit questionable although the age gap is not as big as your typical May/December I do think its enough that the tag fits. For me, I believe in the old adage "age is but a number" so I never even really gave their ages a second thought and frankly I loved how the authors didn't really either, sure there are a few mentions but its not an ongoing drumming-into-the-reader's-head kind of mentions.
I know I say it a lot and if I really did it my attic(if I had one) would be full of safely packed away characters, if there has ever been a character that really needed bubblewrapping than it is definitely Bryan Delaney. Talk about a man who has been dealt a rough hand but at the same time he's had some pretty wonderful moments too but when the bad is the kind he has seen then the good doesn't have a chance to shine. Some might say, "well he's just ungrateful" because of the luck he seen at times but when you've had to deal with the kind of bad he's seen, the "lucky" moments are overshadowed with self-doubt and thoughts of "when is the ice going to break out from under me". Scott and Locey handled the balance beautifully. As for Gatlin, well what's not to love? He hasn't had it exactly all unicorn and rainbows but he's dealt with everything the best he could so when these two meet, it's at exactly the right time for both, even if it takes a little coaxing.
There is really not much more I can say that won't give anything away so I'm going to leave off with saying this: Goal Line is absolutely brilliant! If you haven't read Harrisburg Railers yet than I say "stop reading this review of #6 and go out, grab about 6 boxes of kleenex, 6 bottles of your favorite drink of choice, your favorite comfort blanket, and tell your family and friends not to expect to hear from you for a while", trust me you won't be sorry. For those who have read #1-5, well then stop reading this review and get cracking with Goal Line.
When Bryan Delaney moved in with a billet family when he was fifteen he found the kind of family home he always dreamed of, when he was drafted by the Arizona Raptors his goals were within reach, when he was traded to the Harrisburg Railers he heard repeated warnings from the man he cared for not to trust them. As Gatlin Pearce nears thirty-eight, he finds himself tiring of the club scene so when Railers goalie Stan Lyamin brings in the new backup goalie to have new artwork for his helmet, he finds himself very intrigued. Will Bryan let himself find happiness with the Railers or will he listen to the warnings? Will Gatlin help Bryan adjust to his new home and the freedom that comes with his new team?
Once again I am blown away by the incredible storytelling of RJ Scott and VL Locey in this Harrisburg Railers universe they've created. I have to say that I found Goal Line to be the darker of the series, not so much that I would even tag them as "dark elements" but I just found it to be more angsty in a dark-ish kind of way. Having said that, don't think there isn't the usual light-heartedness that the authors have sprinkled throughout the series between the players because there is plenty. I really don't want to touch on the plot too much as there are a few spoilers for the future and for those who haven't read all the entries in the Harrisburg Railers we get to see some of the previous pairings and where their home life is now so I don't want to shine a light on them either. I will say that you will be mesmerized from beginning to end.
Let's talk about our two guys in Goal Line, Bryan and Gatlin. I'll start by saying if you aren't a fan of May/December romances then you might give their pairing a bit questionable although the age gap is not as big as your typical May/December I do think its enough that the tag fits. For me, I believe in the old adage "age is but a number" so I never even really gave their ages a second thought and frankly I loved how the authors didn't really either, sure there are a few mentions but its not an ongoing drumming-into-the-reader's-head kind of mentions.
I know I say it a lot and if I really did it my attic(if I had one) would be full of safely packed away characters, if there has ever been a character that really needed bubblewrapping than it is definitely Bryan Delaney. Talk about a man who has been dealt a rough hand but at the same time he's had some pretty wonderful moments too but when the bad is the kind he has seen then the good doesn't have a chance to shine. Some might say, "well he's just ungrateful" because of the luck he seen at times but when you've had to deal with the kind of bad he's seen, the "lucky" moments are overshadowed with self-doubt and thoughts of "when is the ice going to break out from under me". Scott and Locey handled the balance beautifully. As for Gatlin, well what's not to love? He hasn't had it exactly all unicorn and rainbows but he's dealt with everything the best he could so when these two meet, it's at exactly the right time for both, even if it takes a little coaxing.
There is really not much more I can say that won't give anything away so I'm going to leave off with saying this: Goal Line is absolutely brilliant! If you haven't read Harrisburg Railers yet than I say "stop reading this review of #6 and go out, grab about 6 boxes of kleenex, 6 bottles of your favorite drink of choice, your favorite comfort blanket, and tell your family and friends not to expect to hear from you for a while", trust me you won't be sorry. For those who have read #1-5, well then stop reading this review and get cracking with Goal Line.
Coast to Coast
Original Review October 2019:
When I heard the Raptors were going to be the next hockey series from RJ Scott & VL Locey I was more than a little apprehensive. I mean sure, it's Scott & Locey at the helm but it was one of the Raptors' star players that took down Railers' star Tennant Rowe so how could a team that has that kind of player on the roster be a pleasant read? Right? Well I needn't have worried because Coast to Coast is just . . . WOW! Okay they may not be the Railers but they are still pretty darn great and chock full of potential.
I'm not going to lie, Mark Westman-Reid really got my goat up in the beginning, but as we quickly learn he has reasons, and very valid reasons, to not want to be there. Even after learning said reasons, I'll fill you in on a little secret: I still wanted to whack him upside the head a few times but eventually he begins to "mellow out" and realizes that sometimes you have to go back to grow and move forward.
As for Rowen Carmichael, well he has his work cut out for him both in his team and the head office, namely Mark Westman-Reid. Even though I'm not a hockey fan I am a sports fan(mostly baseball, football, & college basketball) and though none of my favorite teams have ever had a true rebuilding year, I can safely say that fans don't always appreciate a rebuild because basically it's the head office throwing in the towel for that season while trying to better the team for the future. We get it, we understand it, but that doesn't mean we like the concept of "throwing in the towel" at any point so Rowen has a hard task in front of him but it becomes clear that though he may be new to the big show he has a plan and a stubborn attitude to fight for it and see it through, that is if a certain suit will let him.
Watching Mark and Rowen navigate their new roles in the Raptors organization as well as their attraction to each other is actually quite fun, despite wanting to rap my knuckles to the back of a certain suit's head. They really balance the bantering, bickering, and flirting quite expertly. Will either of them let the other in completely or is it just sex? Will their eventual tentative friendship lead to more? You know what's coming: you have to read Coast to Coast for yourself for those answers.
If you've been reading the Harrisburg Railers and Owatonna U series then you know that Ryker Madsen was drafted to the Arizona Raptors and were left wondering as I was: How could Ryker play for the team who still had the man on the roster that nearly ruined his at-the-time-soon-to-be-but-now-is stepdad, Tennant Rowe? I can't imagine what Ryker was thinking the first time he came face to face with the guy but his upbringing and love for the game shows him to be the better man(I don't think I could've been as good as Ryker but 👍 that he could). Will he be the Tennant Rowe of the Raptors? Maybe but he certainly seems to be the levelheaded peacekeeper and considering where the team is and the mountains they have to climb, he will have his hands full.
Will I love Arizona Raptors as much as Railers? Probably not but I have a feeling that with Scott & Locey behind the scenes that it will come down to Railers coming first because there is so much goodness and awesome feels already for the Raptors that I can't wait to see where the authors take the team and the players next. Now as for needing to read Railers and Owatonna before Raptors? Well for me I can't imagine having not read the others prior and as a series fan I love reading in order even when it comes to spin-offs, sequels, and connecting stories but I don't know that it is a must. Sure there are things mentioned especially regarding Ryker Madsen and his stepfather Tennant Rowe but the authors' do a wonderful job bringing newbies up to speed. However you read it, Coast to Coast is definitely another win-win in my book.
Original Review October 2019:
When I heard the Raptors were going to be the next hockey series from RJ Scott & VL Locey I was more than a little apprehensive. I mean sure, it's Scott & Locey at the helm but it was one of the Raptors' star players that took down Railers' star Tennant Rowe so how could a team that has that kind of player on the roster be a pleasant read? Right? Well I needn't have worried because Coast to Coast is just . . . WOW! Okay they may not be the Railers but they are still pretty darn great and chock full of potential.
I'm not going to lie, Mark Westman-Reid really got my goat up in the beginning, but as we quickly learn he has reasons, and very valid reasons, to not want to be there. Even after learning said reasons, I'll fill you in on a little secret: I still wanted to whack him upside the head a few times but eventually he begins to "mellow out" and realizes that sometimes you have to go back to grow and move forward.
As for Rowen Carmichael, well he has his work cut out for him both in his team and the head office, namely Mark Westman-Reid. Even though I'm not a hockey fan I am a sports fan(mostly baseball, football, & college basketball) and though none of my favorite teams have ever had a true rebuilding year, I can safely say that fans don't always appreciate a rebuild because basically it's the head office throwing in the towel for that season while trying to better the team for the future. We get it, we understand it, but that doesn't mean we like the concept of "throwing in the towel" at any point so Rowen has a hard task in front of him but it becomes clear that though he may be new to the big show he has a plan and a stubborn attitude to fight for it and see it through, that is if a certain suit will let him.
Watching Mark and Rowen navigate their new roles in the Raptors organization as well as their attraction to each other is actually quite fun, despite wanting to rap my knuckles to the back of a certain suit's head. They really balance the bantering, bickering, and flirting quite expertly. Will either of them let the other in completely or is it just sex? Will their eventual tentative friendship lead to more? You know what's coming: you have to read Coast to Coast for yourself for those answers.
If you've been reading the Harrisburg Railers and Owatonna U series then you know that Ryker Madsen was drafted to the Arizona Raptors and were left wondering as I was: How could Ryker play for the team who still had the man on the roster that nearly ruined his at-the-time-soon-to-be-but-now-is stepdad, Tennant Rowe? I can't imagine what Ryker was thinking the first time he came face to face with the guy but his upbringing and love for the game shows him to be the better man(I don't think I could've been as good as Ryker but 👍 that he could). Will he be the Tennant Rowe of the Raptors? Maybe but he certainly seems to be the levelheaded peacekeeper and considering where the team is and the mountains they have to climb, he will have his hands full.
Will I love Arizona Raptors as much as Railers? Probably not but I have a feeling that with Scott & Locey behind the scenes that it will come down to Railers coming first because there is so much goodness and awesome feels already for the Raptors that I can't wait to see where the authors take the team and the players next. Now as for needing to read Railers and Owatonna before Raptors? Well for me I can't imagine having not read the others prior and as a series fan I love reading in order even when it comes to spin-offs, sequels, and connecting stories but I don't know that it is a must. Sure there are things mentioned especially regarding Ryker Madsen and his stepfather Tennant Rowe but the authors' do a wonderful job bringing newbies up to speed. However you read it, Coast to Coast is definitely another win-win in my book.
Family First
Original Review December 2023:
I'm going to start with saying Family First may not be as much Xmas as some of the other Christmas Railers novellas but that didn't make it any less enjoyable and it certainly has a sense of seasonal spirit throughout even if the holiday isn't happening. For me, if there is even only one scene of Christmas in a book/movie/tv episode than it goes on my holiday list so Family First is all kinds of holiday yummy for this reader.
When it comes to series with multiple pairings I always have a hard time ranking my favorites because I enjoy them all but the first we're introduced to is 99.999% always my favorite, after that it's darn near impossible to rank. I can't lie though, there has always been something about Stan and Erik that cemented their place right behind Ten and Jared in Scott & Locey's Hockey Universe. As I've said before I don't know which author writes which character but whoever brings Stan to life, I'll be honest I read not only his verbal dialogue but also his internal voice with a Russian accent in my head. Is that a testament to the writing style or just the pure awesomeness of the character? I don't know but Stan definitely has a way of making himself heard.
As to Family First, there isn't as much actual hockey play in this holiday entry but we get to see not only Stan deal with a season ending injury and the aftermath that goes with healing and recovery but we also get to see it from the spouse's side as well. Too often we think of health issues in terms of only the one injured and/or ill so I am always on the lookout for stories that show the loved ones' perspective, the "healthy" one who feels helpless. Now that said, as my mom's 24/7 caregiver I am also super critical of how the healthy are portrayed. Having read stories dealing with injuries and illness from these authors before I wasn't too worried going in but it's still refreshing and heartwarming to read Erik's side of the journey. So for that alone, I offer up an extra special Kudos and Thank You to RJ Scott and VL Locey.
I make it sound like Family First is bogged down in heartache and all other negative aspects of injuries and recovery but it's not. Oh no, Scott & Locey have combined realistic hurt/comfort/healing with humor and hockey in the way we would expect from the pair and Stan Lyamin is still Stan, perhaps a bit morose at times with fear of his hockey future but still the man we all know and love.
Not to spoil anything but there just might be a few hints of yet more 2nd generation hockey-ness in the Scott/Locey Hockey Universe.
Goal Line
Keep your eye on Ten, he’s trouble.
That was all the text said, and I re-read it a few times as if more words would suddenly appear.
I don’t know why I looked for affection in any text that Aarni sent me because, in my kind-of-boyfriend’s own words, he wasn’t the demonstrative type. And he would always point out that someone could get hold of my phone. Then they would know that Aarni Lankinen, the villain of the Arizona Raptors, wasn’t everything he made himself out to be, that he wasn’t the playboy who fucked every woman within his reach. That he had a boyfriend on the side, and that it was me.
The phone rang, and I answered as soon as I saw his name. Aarni wasn't the most patient guy on earth, and he liked it when I was fast to respond.
“Did you get my text?” Aarni asked without preamble.
“I did.”
“Don’t let me down now.”
I got the feeling, as he laughed, that he expected me to do that very thing. I still wasn’t sure what would count as letting him down. But given the kind of person I was—clumsy, quiet and only really focused when I was dressed for hockey—I kind of expected to fuck up.
The Arizona Raptors had chosen me in the 2014 draft, not long after my eighteenth birthday. I was the second highest ranking goaltender drafted that year, something to be proud of, I guess. But I’d not managed to stay up at NHL level, spending the rest of the time in the Raptors’ development team in Tucson. Until last year, when I’d actually been a starting goalie after both main goalies had been injured.
I hadn’t been stellar, and Arizona put me on waivers, leaving me vulnerable to being picked up by who the hell ever. My confidence had been rocked. I was a solid goalie for the development team, but the minute I got up to the primary team, NHL level, I choked. Why the hell did the Railers even want someone who hadn’t lived up to their early promise? I assumed I’d attend this training camp, and that would be it. They’d push me down to the Railers’ development team, and there I would stay.
Which wasn’t a bad thing, except they’d taken me from Arizona and from Aarni and it was the first time I’d been really on my own.
“Hello? Are you even listening to me?” Aarni snapped.
“Of course, I won’t let you down,” I lied.
I’m a good goalie, I stop pucks, I can be strong and focused and stay in my own head to track the plays in front of me.
Still, Aarni knew about me what I knew about myself; I’d choke at NHL level just as I had for the majority of my time with the Raptors.
I’m not ready. I should go back down to the minors.
“Also, don’t get comfortable there. They’re not going to keep you for long.”
“I know.”
“And don’t forget what assholes the Railers are. Don’t trust them, particularly wonder-boy Rowe. Arrogant fucker.”
I didn’t see Ten as arrogant at all, but then I was basing my assessment on TV interviews, including the one he’d given with Jared when they’d announced their relationship. I’d been proud of Ten and Jared for doing that, and part of me, the dark, hidden, ruined part, was green with envy that they were able to be open with the world.
I’d said that to Aarni, but he’d reacted badly and hadn’t talked to me for three days. His disappointment was a knife in my gut, and I hated every second of it. That was not happening again. He was right. Ten was a Stanley Cup Champion, a superstar, and if there had been NHL players at the Olympics, then he would undoubtedly have been on Team USA. No team would ask him to leave just because he had a boyfriend. It didn’t seem to be hurting the Railers, and they had a growing reputation as being LGBT-friendly.
“Jesus Christ, Bryan, are you even on this phone call?”
I pulled myself back from the edge. Aarni had said something about Ten being arrogant.
“I won’t forget,” I spoke with confidence so he’d realize I was listening.
“And remember I’m not there to watch your back.” He sighed deeply. “I worry there’s no one to look after you when you attract trouble. Especially from defenders like Max van Hellren. Asshole should have been thrown out of that game against us for what he did to me. Fucker lost us the chance at a championship. So fucking pleased he ended up collapsing. He deserved it.”
My chest tightened. Max wasn’t part of the Railers anymore. He’d retired after the cup win, but Aarni was right. There would be other guys there to step up in his place. Aarni had been furious, with a side order of mean, over what Max had done to him, checking him into the boards. But he’d finally calmed down, said he’d show Max what was what the next time the two teams met. He’d been so disappointed when Max had retired.
But Aarni was a good guy. He was the one who’d gotten involved when the bullying on the Raptors had gotten to be too much for me to handle. When the guys in the toxic locker room got on my case. I’d only played a few games at that level with the Raptors and had fucked every single one of them up. They’d hated it, but Aarni had been there for me.
He seemed to know the point when the rest of the team pushed it too far, always stepping in just before I was going to run from the room. He’d helped me so much, but he was back in Arizona, so far away.
“I’ll be okay,” I murmured, fear gripping me again about the kind of things I needed to face with this new team.
“I doubt that.” He sighed. “But you weren’t enough of all that for the Raptors to keep you, so you have no choice, and there’s nothing we can do about it, can we?”
“No.”
He must have heard the desperation in my voice. I hadn’t wanted the Raptors to give up on me, but that was hockey. One day I had woken up in Arizona as the backup to the backup, fucking things up, and the next day, the team had put me on waivers, and I was suddenly in snowy Pennsylvania.
“Good boy,” was all he said, but it was enough.
He hung up, but those two words gave me a shot of steel to my spine, and I settled my breathing before opening the car door. Security had let me right through to the player parking lot, and my Toyota sat right next to a sexy red Porsche. My salary had taken a hike, up to three million for the two-year contract I had here, so I probably needed a new car.
Even if the Railers saw through me and sent me packing, I’d still have enough money to buy a car.
“Hey,” someone called from behind me, and I immediately assumed that I was standing somewhere I shouldn’t have been. The man was in a guard’s uniform, tall, built and smiling at me benignly.
“I’m sorry. They told me to park there.”
“Of course. Bryan Delaney, right?” he asked and extended his hand for me to shake, which I did immediately after wiping the sweaty palm on my jeans.
“Yeah, Bryan,” I said when I realized I hadn’t answered his question.
“Welcome.” He thumbed at himself. “Name’s Pete. They said I needed to keep an eye out for the new guy.”
He dropped my hand, and I forced a smile onto my face, even though my stomach was churning. “Thank you.”
“This way.” He chatted on about the weather, life, hockey and something about his sister who lived in Arizona. By the time he dropped me outside an office, I knew enough about Pete to write a book. Thing is, his chatter stilled my nerves, and I wasn't going into this room blind. I knew the name on the door, Alain Gagnon, former goalie for Vancouver, and one of the best goalie coaches in the business. I’d skyped with him once in his capacity as Goalie Coach for the Railers after they’d claimed me off waivers. He’d seen me coming to the Railers as a positive thing, a great thing. All I’d seen is my failure at NHL level hockey with the Raptors, and I remembered going back to Aarni and needing to be held.
Of course, Aarni had said he didn’t need to hug me, but he’d reassured me that, however I played, he would always have my back. I’d needed the comfort. His words of advice stayed with me even now.
I just want you to realize what you are and what your place on the team will be. Ten acts friendly, but he won't care about you like I do. Stan? He’s had some lucky saves, and as for that fucker Van Hellren? You saw what he did to me in our last matchup. I wish you weren’t so naïve, Bryan. It’s unlikely you’ll get many starts, so don’t be disappointed when you get sent down to the minors.
I won’t be disappointed. I’d promised Aarni, and I’d made a vow to myself not to get too excited and involved.
That was all the text said, and I re-read it a few times as if more words would suddenly appear.
I don’t know why I looked for affection in any text that Aarni sent me because, in my kind-of-boyfriend’s own words, he wasn’t the demonstrative type. And he would always point out that someone could get hold of my phone. Then they would know that Aarni Lankinen, the villain of the Arizona Raptors, wasn’t everything he made himself out to be, that he wasn’t the playboy who fucked every woman within his reach. That he had a boyfriend on the side, and that it was me.
The phone rang, and I answered as soon as I saw his name. Aarni wasn't the most patient guy on earth, and he liked it when I was fast to respond.
“Did you get my text?” Aarni asked without preamble.
“I did.”
“Don’t let me down now.”
I got the feeling, as he laughed, that he expected me to do that very thing. I still wasn’t sure what would count as letting him down. But given the kind of person I was—clumsy, quiet and only really focused when I was dressed for hockey—I kind of expected to fuck up.
The Arizona Raptors had chosen me in the 2014 draft, not long after my eighteenth birthday. I was the second highest ranking goaltender drafted that year, something to be proud of, I guess. But I’d not managed to stay up at NHL level, spending the rest of the time in the Raptors’ development team in Tucson. Until last year, when I’d actually been a starting goalie after both main goalies had been injured.
I hadn’t been stellar, and Arizona put me on waivers, leaving me vulnerable to being picked up by who the hell ever. My confidence had been rocked. I was a solid goalie for the development team, but the minute I got up to the primary team, NHL level, I choked. Why the hell did the Railers even want someone who hadn’t lived up to their early promise? I assumed I’d attend this training camp, and that would be it. They’d push me down to the Railers’ development team, and there I would stay.
Which wasn’t a bad thing, except they’d taken me from Arizona and from Aarni and it was the first time I’d been really on my own.
“Hello? Are you even listening to me?” Aarni snapped.
“Of course, I won’t let you down,” I lied.
I’m a good goalie, I stop pucks, I can be strong and focused and stay in my own head to track the plays in front of me.
Still, Aarni knew about me what I knew about myself; I’d choke at NHL level just as I had for the majority of my time with the Raptors.
I’m not ready. I should go back down to the minors.
“Also, don’t get comfortable there. They’re not going to keep you for long.”
“I know.”
“And don’t forget what assholes the Railers are. Don’t trust them, particularly wonder-boy Rowe. Arrogant fucker.”
I didn’t see Ten as arrogant at all, but then I was basing my assessment on TV interviews, including the one he’d given with Jared when they’d announced their relationship. I’d been proud of Ten and Jared for doing that, and part of me, the dark, hidden, ruined part, was green with envy that they were able to be open with the world.
I’d said that to Aarni, but he’d reacted badly and hadn’t talked to me for three days. His disappointment was a knife in my gut, and I hated every second of it. That was not happening again. He was right. Ten was a Stanley Cup Champion, a superstar, and if there had been NHL players at the Olympics, then he would undoubtedly have been on Team USA. No team would ask him to leave just because he had a boyfriend. It didn’t seem to be hurting the Railers, and they had a growing reputation as being LGBT-friendly.
“Jesus Christ, Bryan, are you even on this phone call?”
I pulled myself back from the edge. Aarni had said something about Ten being arrogant.
“And remember I’m not there to watch your back.” He sighed deeply. “I worry there’s no one to look after you when you attract trouble. Especially from defenders like Max van Hellren. Asshole should have been thrown out of that game against us for what he did to me. Fucker lost us the chance at a championship. So fucking pleased he ended up collapsing. He deserved it.”
My chest tightened. Max wasn’t part of the Railers anymore. He’d retired after the cup win, but Aarni was right. There would be other guys there to step up in his place. Aarni had been furious, with a side order of mean, over what Max had done to him, checking him into the boards. But he’d finally calmed down, said he’d show Max what was what the next time the two teams met. He’d been so disappointed when Max had retired.
But Aarni was a good guy. He was the one who’d gotten involved when the bullying on the Raptors had gotten to be too much for me to handle. When the guys in the toxic locker room got on my case. I’d only played a few games at that level with the Raptors and had fucked every single one of them up. They’d hated it, but Aarni had been there for me.
He seemed to know the point when the rest of the team pushed it too far, always stepping in just before I was going to run from the room. He’d helped me so much, but he was back in Arizona, so far away.
“I’ll be okay,” I murmured, fear gripping me again about the kind of things I needed to face with this new team.
“I doubt that.” He sighed. “But you weren’t enough of all that for the Raptors to keep you, so you have no choice, and there’s nothing we can do about it, can we?”
“No.”
He must have heard the desperation in my voice. I hadn’t wanted the Raptors to give up on me, but that was hockey. One day I had woken up in Arizona as the backup to the backup, fucking things up, and the next day, the team had put me on waivers, and I was suddenly in snowy Pennsylvania.
“Good boy,” was all he said, but it was enough.
He hung up, but those two words gave me a shot of steel to my spine, and I settled my breathing before opening the car door. Security had let me right through to the player parking lot, and my Toyota sat right next to a sexy red Porsche. My salary had taken a hike, up to three million for the two-year contract I had here, so I probably needed a new car.
Even if the Railers saw through me and sent me packing, I’d still have enough money to buy a car.
“Hey,” someone called from behind me, and I immediately assumed that I was standing somewhere I shouldn’t have been. The man was in a guard’s uniform, tall, built and smiling at me benignly.
“I’m sorry. They told me to park there.”
“Of course. Bryan Delaney, right?” he asked and extended his hand for me to shake, which I did immediately after wiping the sweaty palm on my jeans.
“Yeah, Bryan,” I said when I realized I hadn’t answered his question.
“Welcome.” He thumbed at himself. “Name’s Pete. They said I needed to keep an eye out for the new guy.”
He dropped my hand, and I forced a smile onto my face, even though my stomach was churning. “Thank you.”
“This way.” He chatted on about the weather, life, hockey and something about his sister who lived in Arizona. By the time he dropped me outside an office, I knew enough about Pete to write a book. Thing is, his chatter stilled my nerves, and I wasn't going into this room blind. I knew the name on the door, Alain Gagnon, former goalie for Vancouver, and one of the best goalie coaches in the business. I’d skyped with him once in his capacity as Goalie Coach for the Railers after they’d claimed me off waivers. He’d seen me coming to the Railers as a positive thing, a great thing. All I’d seen is my failure at NHL level hockey with the Raptors, and I remembered going back to Aarni and needing to be held.
Of course, Aarni had said he didn’t need to hug me, but he’d reassured me that, however I played, he would always have my back. I’d needed the comfort. His words of advice stayed with me even now.
I just want you to realize what you are and what your place on the team will be. Ten acts friendly, but he won't care about you like I do. Stan? He’s had some lucky saves, and as for that fucker Van Hellren? You saw what he did to me in our last matchup. I wish you weren’t so naïve, Bryan. It’s unlikely you’ll get many starts, so don’t be disappointed when you get sent down to the minors.
I won’t be disappointed. I’d promised Aarni, and I’d made a vow to myself not to get too excited and involved.
Coast to Coast
One
Mark
My brothers are both older than me, and loving the two of them is impossible at the best of times. Ten years ago they turned their backs on me, and I want to forgive them, but I can’t.
Jason was the eldest son, hair as curly and dark as mine, his eyes that same deep Westman-Reid brown he and I had inherited from my asshole of a dad. Big brother one was currently sitting in the chair behind Dad’s old desk, looking as if someone had pissed in his Wheaties, and tapping a pen rhythmically on the leather blotter. I didn’t think he was that happy, but then, he’d been the one closest to Dad, the golden boy, so I guessed Dad dying was a big downer in his charmed life.
Cameron was the middle son, and I know the books said that the middle children are supposed to be the negotiators, the ones to placate their siblings with kind words. Only Cam was not doing that right now. He was pacing, throwing things, and I imagined his personal grief was manifesting itself in the glorious temper that also came from my dad. He looked more like Mom, blond, blue eyes, kind of pretty, but not quirky or fey enough for my modeling agency to book him.
“You want what? You’re both mad. Over my dead fucking body will I stay here and work with you. No.” I was horrified. I didn’t drop the F-bomb much in general, but what they’d just said was enough to have me using fuck as punctuation.
“Say that again!” Cameron snapped, right in my face. “I dare you.”
Never let it be said that I am the kind of man who backs down on a dare. Last time someone had dared me to do something, I’d ended up getting arrested, and pictures of my naked butt appeared all over social media.
“No,” I repeated. That wasn’t a no about the dare; that was a nod to the proposal that I work with my brothers for a year on their failing hockey team.
“No! The fucker said no.” Cam was apoplectic and began pacing the office again, going from one end where Dad had kept his vinyl record collection, and finishing at the other where the family portrait hung, before repeating this all over again. Of course, that meant I looked at the painting—Mom sporting the Westman-Reid diamonds, elegant in a sapphire ball gown that matched her eyes, and Dad in a morning suit. To the left was Jason appearing to be around twenty or so, looking like the prep school Ivy League asshole he’d always been. To the right Cam, cute even then, and with not one hint of temper in his expression. Then there was me, sitting on the arm of a chair, aged twelve and fully aware then that I didn’t belong in the painting. Leigh wasn’t in the picture, typical hypocritical Westman-Reid shit. Clearly having the child in the wheelchair in the painting would’ve detracted from my dad’s sheer awesomeness or some such shit. Funny how I’d never noticed she wasn’t in the picture.
Four years after this painting, I was told to leave the mansion. I guessed I was lucky that Dad hadn’t cut me out of the painting as brutally as he had cut me out of his life.
“You realize so much will be lost if you don’t agree,” Jason was calm as if talking to me sensibly might get me to change my mind.
I crossed one leg over the other, pulling at my pants until the crease fell just so. I took pride in my clothes, but the move was more of a delaying tactic than sustaining my tailored elegance.
“That’s not my problem,” I said.
The chair I sat on rocked violently as Cam smacked the back of it. “Not your problem? Do you know how much the team would lose?”
I guessed the question was rhetorical, but I couldn’t stay quiet. “So your kids have to have loans for college, and you don’t get to vacation on an island in the Bahamas. Sucks to be you.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking asshole,” Cam exploded, and placing a hand on either side of the arms of my chair, he then leaned right into my face—so close I could see the darker blue in his eyes and imagined the scarlet lightning of temper exploding from them at any minute. “Do you have any idea of what you’re talking about?”
I peered around him in my most deliberate fashion and stared at Jason. “Are you going to get him out of my face, or do I need to call 911?”
“Cam, back down,” Jason ordered, and finally after a staring match that seemed to last hours, Cam threw his hands in the air and resumed pacing.
“Many people depend on the Raptors to be able to support their families,” Jason explained in his level-headed way.
“You can’t guilt me into this, Jason. Dad threw me out at sixteen, with no money, no idea of what to do, and I hitchhiked my way to New York. I worked my butt off to make something of myself there, and Gilded Treasures is more than enough to support over three hundred staff and models. I made something of myself despite dear old Dad, and I owe this family nothing.”
“What about Mom?” Cam snapped.
“The same woman who stood next to Dad and watched him kick me out, then ignored my calls and cut me out of her life as efficiently as if she’d used a blade?”
“She’s not well,” Jason said, tiredly.
A small prick of concern pierced the act I had going on, but I wasn’t going to let it sway me. She had washed her hands of me a long time ago, and she meant nothing to me now. I pushed aside that traitorous sympathy and focused back on Cam and Jason. “Maybe she should stop drinking,” I said.
That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Cam dragged me out of the chair and walked me backward until I hit a wall. He lifted me onto my toes, easy when he was built like a linebacker with all the physical qualities of the Incredible Hulk.
“Mom has cancer,” he said, and that poke of concern became slightly bigger.
“Cameron, stop,” Jason ordered and pushed his way between us. I’m not sure why he was stopping Cam from beating me up. He’d never done it when we were kids, so why now? “She didn’t want him to know,” he said as he shoved Cam backward.
Yep, and there it is, the cherry on the icing of the proverbial shit cake. I brushed myself down.
“Of course, she doesn’t want me to know. She probably assumed I don’t care, and she was right.” I feigned a complete lack of concern, but even after all these years, it was her betrayal that hurt the most.
Cam moved in front of me, although he kept his distance.
“She didn’t want her illness to sway you one way or another with what Dad put in motion.”
I looked at my nails and huffed. “And that’s the story she’s sticking to, right?”
Cam slammed a hand into the wall next to my head. He was taller and bigger than me, just like Jason, and if the two of them decided to take it upon themselves to kill me, they could. At five ten, I was completely vulnerable.
I wasn’t the same stupid kid who’d left the house at sixteen. Not the one who’d adored Cameron and admired him as if he was a shiny, heroic genius. Or who’d been the only one to stop Jason from losing his cool all the time.
I was Mark Westman-Reid, twenty-six, owner of a thriving modeling agency, an apartment, with a scarlet Lamborghini parked outside the mansion to prove it. Not to mention owning a loft looking out over Central Park or having a Porsche that sat in the garage as a spare.
ThatMark was a very different person, and my brothers needed to know that.
“One year,” Cameron said and closed his eyes briefly.
“What about Leigh? What is our sister’s role in this?”
Jason and Cam exchanged looks, and I’d have even gone as far as to say they both appeared regretful.
“You know Dad just wanted to look after her,” Cam said finally. Then he changed the subject. “One year as part owner of the Raptors is all the will states. The three of us can fulfill the conditions of Dad’s will, and we’ll buy you out.”
“Buy me out? Huh. What with?”
The family had invested in the Arizona team before I’d left home, and even though I wasn’t a hockey fan, I was a businessman, with advisors and investors, and my own goddamn corner office. I knew business, and I didn’t have to be a fan of hockey in general or the Raptors themselves to see that the team was failing.
Their eighteen-thousand seating capacity Santa Catalina Arena was barely forty percent full on good nights, and the players were in and out of trouble about as often as Cam had been as a kid. They were close to the bottom of the league, and their reputation was shit among the other teams. There was violence, a couple of DUIs, rumors of steroid abuse, and worst of all, no franchise wanted to set up stalls in the place for game nights. All of that I’d read in one article on the NHL website.
They’d had some good picks for the last draft, and clicking on both those links had given me a good understanding of what that meant. The team had picked up a couple of good rookies. Other than that, they’d made no changes to the players.
Worst of all, it seemed the team had one player who was a mean son of a bitch who’d gone out of his way to hurt the league’s darling, Tennant Rowe, which meant that now the Arizona Raptors were the bad guys.
They were fucked six ways to Sunday. The latest article on the Raptors’ website talked about a last-minute coach hired from an east-coast college with no NHL-level experience at all. Dad had to have been desperately scraping the bottom of the barrel for that. Money breeds money, and Rowen something or other wasn’t going to save a team hell-bent on self-destruction.
And Dad had wanted his three sons to work together for a year? Why? What the hell reason could he have for making us do this? If we didn’t, then the last of Dad’s money was going to charity, and the team would be wound up. Finished. And it was doubtful that it could be sold on to any other unsuspecting schmuck.
“We have financing in place if we need it,” Jason defended, but I’d forgotten what I even asked. I was done here, and for my own sanity, I needed to leave.
“No,” I repeated and slipped out of the room. They didn’t follow me, but I could hear the rumble of voices behind the door.
“What did you say?”
I turned to face Leigh with a smile and leaned down to give her a hug. Leigh was the only true innocent in all of this, and I wished I could say that I’d kept in touch with her, but I’d have been lying. The oldest of all four of us, she’d been a passenger in a car accident aged five and was confined to a wheelchair. I don’t remember much about her growing up. She’d been this ghost who’d passed through my life on her way to rehabs or for operations. At least she hadn’t been next to Dad when he’d thrown me out, though, and I had affection for her, just not the kind that was enough for me defy my father and keep in touch.
Not even as a grown-ass man had I reached out. That was on me. Maybe now he was gone, I could think about visiting her. On days when my asshole brothers weren’t there, of course. Or Mom. God forbid I bump into my mom.
“I said no,” I was honest and to the point.
She half smiled, then wheeled herself down the hall to the front door, and I followed. “I thought you would. You don’t owe us anything.”
“I don’t feel a part of this family,” I murmured. “You get that, right?”
“Likewise,” she said and smiled again. She was another blonde, like Mom and Cam, and was so pretty. I wonder how she’s doing? Had she ended up at college? What was her role in the family, apart from the one everyone looked after? And why did I feel as if I was abandoning her. “Did they tell you about Mom?”
I nodded. The part of my brain processing the news was mostly taken up by the fact that I’d decided my position on the Raptors situation, and I was sticking to it.
“Not that it matters,” she added.
“Huh?”
“Part of her died with Daddy.” She held out a hand, and I took it without hesitation. “You know, the part where she couldn’t make her own choices, the part that Dad made her lock down, her life, her joy, her painting. It’s crappy timing that the moment he dies and sets her free is the same time she gets cancer. Life sucks, you know.”
I crouched down next to her and looked up. “Mom didn’t care about me. Our brothers stood by and let Dad cut me out of this family. I’ve lost that spark of love for the way they represent family. Do you understand?”
“I’m in a wheelchair. I’m not stupid,” she said wryly.
I felt embarrassed at the way I’d worded my question. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“I’m teasing you. Did you know you have three nieces and two nephews?”
“You send me the family newsletter every year, sis.”
“Emma, Lucy, Ewan, Michael, and Gemma,” she counted them off on her fingers. “I bet they’d love to meet their uncle Mark.”
“The roaming gay uncle who made a living stripping his clothes off for money?”
She shook her head. “No. The successful businessman who started as a model, who made curly hair famous, and now runs his own modeling agency, owns an apartment overlooking Central Park, and drives a Lamborghini.” She waved at the shiny red car, and I sat next to her on the short wall of the porch, feeling as if this conversation had a purpose. “You have a business manager, right?”
“Lucas.”
“Let him run your company. He could cover you being on the west coast. You know the will only stipulates two hundred working days spread over the year. You could be more to your nieces and nephews. You could take me out for dinner. We could talk about our past, maybe look forward to our future. You never know, you might one day forgive Mom and Jason, and maybe there will be a miracle, and you could even be friends with Cam. But you won’t know that unless you give us all a chance.”
“I don’t know anything about hockey.”
“I don’t imagine that getting kicked out of your home and onto the streets with no money meant you knew a damn thing about modeling either, but look at you now.”
“I don’t like the cold.”
“We live in Arizona.”
“Ice is cold.”
“I’ll lend you a jersey.”
The banter was a hundred kinds of cute, and an overwhelming rush of self-pity stole my breath. She must have seen it in my face, and she patted my head.
“Come on, Mark, give this family issue a week. Take it a day at a time. We can go out for a beer. We can watch hockey together. I’d like to get to know my little brother again.”
“What about Mom?”
“She’s away right now, at an all-inclusive spa in Sedona. She went there with a trunk of books, three cases of wine, and it’s closer to the clinic she’s attending. She’s grieving over losing Dad at her own pace.”
“What kind of cancer does she have?”
“Breast cancer.”
“Did she know about this insane clause in Dad’s will?”
Leigh shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she encouraged him to put it in there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Now’s not the time to talk about all that, Mark. Now is the time to go back into the office, calm Cam down, and talk to Jason rationally. See if there’s something you can get started. Do it for the family that fucked you over, show them you’re the bigger man, come home for a while and be Uncle Mark.”
She held out a hand, and I gripped it, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“I wish you’d been home more when…”
“Yeah.” She shook her head sadly. “Me too.”
I walked backinto the office without knocking and took a mental picture of what I was looking at. Cam at the window, arms crossed over his chest, staring out at the manicured lawns of the Westman-Reid estate. Jason slumped in the chair I’d been sitting in, pale and almost appearing as if he was going to cry.
“One week,” I announced, and both men were startled out of wherever their thoughts had taken them. “I’m giving this one week, but I have conditions.” I sat on the edge of Dad’s desk and glanced between my brothers, both of whom wore mirrored looks of bewilderment.
“What conditions?” Cam asked and uncrossed his arms.
“My own office, access to every scrap of financial data for the past ten years, personal meetings with every single player, links to game film, someone to explain the rules of the game, and a place for Leigh to work with us if she wants to. That’s nonnegotiable. If we want to turn this team around, then as part of this management team of three, we cut out all the deadwood: the skaters who don’t give a shit, the managers getting fat skimming from the meager income we make. And most of all, we negotiate with this new coach, whatever his name is—”
“Rowen Carmichael.”
“Him. We tell him to get the hell out and find a team at his level.”
“He’s already in place at the arena, and Dad gave him a loophole-free contract,” Cam warned.
I fronted both of them. “I don’t give a shit about a loophole-free contract.”
“Mark—”
I held up a hand. “No negotiation on any of this. I want a real coach, not some half-assed college wannabe. I want Rowen Carmichael gone.”
Family First
Prologue
“It’s always a thrill for us up here in the rafters to get a new member of the broadcast team, especially when that newbie employee is one of our Railers alumni. This man really needs no introduction to all the hometown fans watching us at home or streaming us on the Railers app, but I’m giving him one anyway. Let’s give a hearty Railers welcome to Max van Hellren.”
“Thanks, Dusky, it’s great to be able to be a part of the broadcast team. And congrats to you too on moving up from between the benches to being our new play-by-play man.”
“Aw, thanks, Max. While we were all saddened to see Chippy move on after his two-year stint here in the broadcast booth, we’re wishing him all the best of luck as he takes the reins as associate coach down in Washington. You played for a few years in D.C., Max, what do you think of this rebuild team that the Railers are going up against tonight?”
“Well, they’re young and fast, perhaps too young, Dusky? They’re boasting to one and all that they have the youngest roster in the league, which is wonderful in some regards but there is no contest for age and wisdom, especially when entering the first round of the playoffs as we are tonight.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Max. And to that point let’s sneak in our goalie comparison after one period while maintenance works on a lighting issue at the Railers end of the ice.”
“Yeah, I see tonight’s match-up in net as something that will prove my earlier point about experience in high stakes games. Rob Ralston is only twenty-four years old, and while he has done a great job helping his team get to this first round of the playoffs, he has zero postseason knowledge, and in warm-ups I could see his nerves. They were really evident in the first period, but he did settle down after facing some sound shots from the Railers offense. Now, on the other end of the ice, we have the veteran Stan Lyamin. Stan has been down this road more than a few times. Heck, he’s been there and bought the T-shirt.”
“Right you are, Heller, if you don’t mind me using your nickname?”
“Nope, call me what you want just don’t call me late for dinner. That’s a jokey thing my husband Ben and I have. I like to eat.”
“Ha! Well, you look well-fed and happy, Heller. It’s going to be an exciting game if we see Stan come into the series in good health. So far he’s looked good, and the word from the Railers goaltending coach, Pat Yannerman, who joined the team just this past fall, is that Stan is at one hundred percent. While he didn’t really have to do too much in that first period, he did look solid on his skates. But the past few years have taken their toll on the thirty-nine-year-old goalie. He’s suffered through some groin issues, as well as several undisclosed injuries that many are whispering might be hip problems. If Lyamin is feeling up to par I do not foresee this young Washington defense being able to shake him at all. But if he’s feeling his age, and you and I both know how that feels, Heller, he might be an easier mark for the sharpshooters Washington has brought to Harrisburg.”
“Ha, yeah, I can attest to that. I have the heart of a teenager and the body of an octogenarian. Ah good, we now have all the lights on so the second period can commence. Looks like the Railers are sending Tennant Rowe in to take the face-off, Dusky. A good move. Rowe has led the team in face-off wins all season, and tonight he’s already gone ten to one against the usually highly competent Pierre LaVou.”
“It’s always a joy to watch Rowe play. Second period underway. Washington starts with LaVou, Markson, and Kingcade with Bowman and Lyle on defense. Line-ups are flowing across the top of your screen courtesy of Truman Paint and Lumber, your premier paint supplier in the greater Harrisburg area. Lockhart picks up the puck and carries it down to the Washington end.”
“Lockhart has looked much better the second half of this season. Coming back from that shoulder surgery was a long haul but his play has improved tremendously. He’s now second in goals and assists on the Railers, right behind Tennant Rowe.”
“It’s hard for anyone to get past Tennant Rowe on those stat sheets, Heller. A solid shot on the Washington net sees the shot go up and out of play.”
“Man alive, did he ever wind that baby up. He just got a little tight on his skate there as he took the shot.”
“Both teams are quick on making substitutions tonight as some line juggling takes place to try to counter the strengths on the other team as play is about to resume.”
“I’m not sure Washington has a strong enough roster to counter the Railers first line, Dusky.”
“I guess we’ll see as the game goes on. Washington wins that faceoff, and they carry it down into the Railers end with speed. Maybe their coach lit a fire under them during intermission, Heller.”
“Hey, could be, I know my backside was charbroiled many a time when I was playing.”
“Williams dishes off to Prescott as they break into the Railers zone. Fetcher moves in for a scorching shot that Lyamin has to stretch to block, the shot going up into the netting to stop play yet again.”
“Lyamin is not getting up, Dusky. He’s still face down on the ice. That didn’t look like that hard of a move for the Railers goalie to make. Play is called as the Railers trainer heads onto the ice. Dang, you hate to see this. Lyamin is still down on the ice, his teammates gathered close to the crease as Paul Iman, the Railers head trainer for the past few years, tends to the net minder.”
“Let’s see a replay of that shot from Prescott and maybe we can see…Oh, oh, okay, see that extension Lyamin makes to move from the left of his crease to the right? I’m wondering if he didn’t pull another groin muscle on that move, Heller.”
“Hmm, could be, Dusky. The butterfly technique that so many of today’s goalies use transfers some big pressure to the hip joints. Hopefully it’s just a tweak and—”
“Looks like Bryan Delaney is gearing up. That is not good news for the Railers. I’d personally like to see Lyamin get to his skates and leave the ice on his own volition but he’s still not moving much other than his head, which is now free of his famed Elvis mask, and his hands. He seems to be in some real pain.”
“Yeah, they’re calling for the stretcher for him. Lyamin is the spirit of this team while Rowe is the heart. Let’s hope the problem is a minor one for our beloved goalie…”
Saturday's Series Spotlight
Chestorford Coyotes
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.
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Boston Rebels Series
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