Thursday, June 5, 2025

🌈⏳Throwback Thursday's Time Machine⏳🌈: Snow Storm by Davidson King



Summary:

Haven Hart Universe #5
The city of Haven Hart rests under the heel of Christopher Manos. He reigns over the most dangerous and deadliest citizens as the most powerful crime boss the city has seen in generations. Yet, for the last five years, the harshest edges of his nature have been tempered by the loving devotion of his husband, Snow, and the nephew Christopher adores like a son. His life is a balance of darkness and light until a birthday trip for his nephew, Simon, is interrupted by a hail of bullets and explosions, threatening to destroy it all.

Snow has found a home, a family, and the love of one of Haven Hart’s most powerful men. When Christopher and Simon are kidnapped, Snow risks everything to find his family. Utilizing specialized skills he learned on the streets and the finer points of running a city from his crime boss husband, Snow takes on roles he never dreamed he would--protector, leader, and avenger. No one threatens his family and lives. Experienced enough to know he can’t do this alone, Snow calls in every favor he is owed, risking his life promising favors in return, all to save his family and the man he loves.

The sins of the Manos crime family are escaping the dark recesses of the past and threatening the bright future of everything Snow and Christopher have built. Yet, even with the help of some unlikely and uniquely dangerous people, Snow finds himself wondering if their efforts will be enough to save the two most important people in his life. Will the loving family Snow has finally found be taken from him forever?


Original ebook Review April Book of the Month 2019:
Never underestimate Snow.  The mother nature kind looks light and fluffy but can be anything but, well Davidson King's Snow on the surface is light, fluffy, and a bit of pushover(at least what a certain bad guy thinks) but just like Mother Nature's white stuff, Snow Manos can be deadly.  Let's be honest, there are times when its best if we get underestimated and Snow Storm is a prime example of just that.  Never threaten the Manos family, Snow may not be the head of the family but he is the head's husband and that makes him even more of a danger to cross.

Not sure which factor I loved most: Snow being underestimated or that Christopher knows his husband so perfectly he knew exactly what to say to him on the phone to get the ball rolling?  Talk about a perfect pair and its this knowledge and chemistry that will always put Snow and Christopher on the top of my favorite Haven Hart couples.

Snow is such an amazingly creative fun, flirty, and fabulous character which in my honest opinion defines exactly what Haven Hart is all about, both the city and the series.  Don't get me wrong, Haven Hart Universe is not all rainbows and unicorns kind of rom-com happy happy.  Oh no, it is anything but because there is danger always lurking and Snow Storm is the best example of that because Snow Manos brings happiness to everyone he meets but its not all he brings to the table.  With this series entry you realize that he really is what brings everyone together, he is the cement that makes the bricks into a home, he is the Force that binds the Jedi together, and he is the love that makes the Manos and Black Organizations family(even if neither Christopher nor Black want to admit that is what they've become since meeting SnowπŸ˜‰πŸ˜‰).

Speaking of Christopher, he is just as dangerously yummy as always.  His love for his nephew, Simon, has been blatantly obvious from the very minute Simon brought Snow home with him way back in book 1, Snow Falling, and if you hadn't already noticed that Christopher has become more than just a father figure you will clearly see he(and Snow) have become dads to the growing boy.  I already mentioned how perfectly attuned Christopher is with Snow by knowing what clues to give his husband to help find them so I'll just add that they may be well established couple but their passion for each other is still off the charts that will fry your e-reader if you're not careful.

As for the secondary characters, well has there ever really been any "secondary" characters in this series?  No because they all serve a purpose whether they get their own story or not, not a single one can be labeled "page filler", each one brings a needed element to the journey.  It is always nice to see where other couples are once they've had their story begun, the author letting her readers know there is still life after they get their HEA.

Snow Storm once again showcases Davidson King's knack for storytelling, not just a writer but a true storyteller.  She creates not only characters to read and plots to unravel but a whole community to discover and experience.  If you haven't been reading Haven Hart Universe yet, I highly recommend doing so because you are certainly missing out on quite a ride.

One final note: if you are wondering if this is a series best read in order than I have to say yes.  Sure each one features a new couple, well Snow Storm revisits Snow & Christopher from book 1 but each entry does have its own central plot so I suppose technically each one is a standalone but I have to recommend reading in order.  The characters, the friendships, the favors Snow cashes in, these factors just flow better knowing each pairings' journey.  If reading 5 books seems daunting, don't worry because the time will fly by and before you know it, you'll be kicking yourself for not savoring the moments but you just get so sucked in that you can't put them down.  I should probably add that for the first time EVER, I did a re-read in less than 2 weeks after my initial read and if that doesn't express how amazing Snow Storm is then I'm not sure what does.


Original Audiobook Listen November 2019:
What can I say about the story that I didn't already cover in my original review? Nothing! It's still just as beautiful and engaging as originally. So I think I'll just talk about the narrators, Joel Leslie and Philip Alces.  There again, what can I say that I haven't touched on in the first 4 audio versions of Haven Hart? Nothing!  They bring life not only to Snow and Christopher but to all the characters, good guys and bad guys.  Between Davidson King's visual storytelling style and Leslie & Alces narration, you can almost see the story unfold in front of you.  I should add that although there have been bits & pieces from each entry that has carried over, I found Snow Storm to be the first one that really shows everything starting to come together to form the "big picture", so definitely read/listen to Haven Hart Universe in order.

RATING:




Chapter One
Christopher
One of my favorite parts of waking up was feeling Snow wrapped around my body like an octopus. Even last summer when the air conditioning had failed and it was so hot, I’d wake to his limbs tangled in a death grip with mine. Every morning for the last five years, that was my morning greeting. So, the fact I’d woken up alone, with no tentacle Snow, made grumpiness settle in my gut.

It all went downhill from there. I stubbed my toe on the toilet, jumped into the shower before it was warm enough, and to make matters worse, after I dressed, I realized my cell phone was dead because I’d forgotten to charge it. Today isn’t going to be a good day.

Grabbing the back-up battery, I headed downstairs, hoping Maggie had made a breakfast that could make me forget waking up so shitty.

Vanilla, cinnamon, and coffee filled my nose and the warmth and familiarity gave me hope this day would turn around.

“That is utterly ridiculous, Snow. I’m not making this a thirteen-tier cake just because Simon is going to be thirteen. This isn’t Cake Wars.” The sound of Maggie’s irate voice as I halted by the kitchen door was like a bucket of ice water poured over me.

“I already said we could hire someone to do it, but no, you had to be difficult and squeeze out a few tears to be the one to make it. I know you, Miss Maggie. You use the fact you’re elderly to your advantage.” A smile played on my lips at Snow’s argument. He loved Maggie, but the two of them locked horns more than anyone.

“I can’t believe you’d accuse me of such a thing.” I entered at her dramatic gasp.

The kitchen was a sight that would rival an explosion. The blender was whirring, flour covered the countertops and cabinets, there was something dripping down an abandoned silver bowl beside the sink, and Snow and Maggie were covered in all of it. With Snow’s finger extended toward Maggie, he turned to me. His smile was automatic and went straight to my bones.

Snow had changed very little in the five years I’d been with him. Four of those, I’d been married to the man. I thought of that time so many years ago when he had stumbled into my life; he was Simon’s hero, and surprisingly, mine as well. He still wore his t-shirts and jeans, loved his Converse, and I was glad his long-haired phase had ended and he’d cut his hair back to the style he had when I met him. The natural white hair sparkled under the lights, his fire blue eyes gleamed, and his megawatt smile reminded me how much I loved my husband.

In that moment, my crappy morning didn’t matter because the way he looked at me now, and every day of my life with him, made any bad day better.

“Morning, baby,” I said as I rounded the corner and placed a quick kiss on his flour-covered mouth. “Baking, I see?” I made a point of gesturing to the mess. “I missed you this morning.”

“Morning, Chris.” He went to put his cake-covered hands on my suit and, while I loved the hell out of him, I had a meeting that morning and couldn’t risk the mess.

“No, I love the old you,” I said with a laugh as I grabbed his wrists.

“Fine, but I would have been wrapped up in you this morning if this woman right here hadn’t texted me at five this morning to tell me she was forgoing our cake plans.” Snow went back to pointing at an eye-rolling Maggie.

“You want a thirteen-tier cake for Simon?” I asked and he nodded. “And you think that’s insane and can’t do it?” Maggie also nodded. “Snow wanted to hire someone, but you love Simon and it’s a huge birthday and you wanted to bake this for him to show your love?” Again, she nodded and this time, her eyes glistened. Snow scoffed at this.

“Bring on the water works,” he mumbled. “If you need to bake a cake to show you love him, then you failed somewhere, Mags.”

She slammed her hand down, making flour explode over all three of us. So much for being on time.

“You can’t understand, Snow, this is how I am. It’s how I love!”

I had to end this. Those two could go on for hours.

“Okay, I get final say.” They both faced me, hope on their faces thinking they both had won, and they both did win.

“Snow wants thirteen tiers. Maggie can’t do that, likely because of the mechanics of it. So, here’s what you’re going to do.” I took Snow’s sticky hand in mine. “You’re going to go order or buy a cupcake tower that holds thirteen layers. And seeing as the party is tomorrow, you’ll likely have to go get it yourself.” I took Maggie’s hand in my other one. “You’re going to make enough cupcakes to fill those layers and Snow will make sure they balance perfectly.”

Aside from the still-whirring mixer, both were silent for a moment. Until finally, Maggie spoke.

“I think that’s a fair compromise.”

Snow bit his lip and shrugged. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

“Great.” I clapped my hands. “Now, I need to go change before my meeting in fifteen minutes.”

Snow followed me out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He waited until the bedroom door was closed to speak.

“You settled that perfectly.” His voice was like a purr, and suddenly, I realized I was going to be very late for my meeting. “It’s like you’re some boss or something, making the hard calls.” He said the word hard with a moan and I knew if I turned around, he’d be stripping off his clothes.

“Snow…” I tried for a warning tone, but it was Snow. He couldn’t be deterred.

“You’re already going to be late.” His hands pressed against my back. “And you’re already going to be naked in a second.” He reached around my waist and began pulling my belt buckle. “What’s a little more lateness, hmm?”

Resistance was futile, so I turned in his arms and smiled at the cheeky, adorable man I loved more than the air I breathed.

“You argue a good case, Mr. Manos, so make me later.”

He chuckled as he pushed me onto the bed, straddling me in all his flour and sugar-covered glory.

I relished in the feel of his mouth over my heated skin, his tongue gliding along my flesh like a paint brush. With my shirt open and my cock freed from the confines of my pants, I moaned as he made me later.

I loved looking into his beautiful blue eyes as we made love. I didn’t trust anyone as much as I trusted Snow. I didn’t love anyone with this all-encompassing love like I did my husband. And when he swallowed me all the way down his throat, eyes locked with mine, I wanted to weep.

“I fucking love you,” I whispered as he devoured my cock, sucking every emotion from me.

When I came in his mouth, he hummed and swallowed every drop, then licked my shaft clean, causing me to hiss when he lapped the sensitive head.

“I fucking love you too, Mr. Manos,” he said as he hovered above me.

“I’d be lost without you.” My fingers slid through his hair, his smile widening at my words.

“I was lost without you and never knew it.” He pressed his lips to mine. We kissed for long moments until he lifted his head.

“We never have to know what being lost feels like again.”

His words were like a balm, but for a brief moment, a tendril of fear creeped around my heart. I didn’t have time to examine it further, because there was a pounding on my door.

“You’re late, sir,” Frank spoke.

“Get to bossing.” Snow slid off me and I watched him until he disappeared into the en suite.

As quickly as I could, I dressed, making sure I looked decent, and rushed out the door, ignoring the smirk on Frank’s face.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“Let’s.” Frank followed me down the stairs and I waved at Simon through the library doors. He was on the phone and I didn’t want to disturb him. I was so excited to give him his birthday gift the next morning, and hoped he’d love it as much as I did.

We drove through the gate, pausing to make sure it closed completely before venturing down the road. The meeting I was attending was with the new harbor master. I hoped he’d agree to the same terms as the last one; forcing the issue could become very ugly.




Davidson King
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.

She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.

If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.


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EMAIL: davidsonkingauthor@yahoo.com



Snow Storm #5

Haven Hart Universe

Joker's Sin

Westford


Wednesday, June 4, 2025

May Book of the Month: Speed by RJ Scott & VL Locey



Summary:

Railers Legacy #1
Hard ice. Fast cars. Fierce love. And a race against fate. 

Hockey is as natural as breathing for Noah Gunnarsson. Growing up with two famous hockey stars as his dads, Noah has always aspired to join the Railers to continue the Lyamin-Gunnarsson legacy. With his degree done, it’s time to live that dream, and the first step is being drafted by the team his hall-of-fame dad played for. The second step is to pull on that dusky blue-gray sweater and make his fathers proud. His rookie year is bound to be a season of incredible highs and lows, but one of the biggest highlights is meeting Brody Vance at a fundraiser. Brody is the living epitome of a bad boy hiding his pain behind a devil-may-care attitude. As Noah struggles to keep one eye on the puck and not on Brody, it’s only a matter of time before both loves collide in a chaotic splash of media attention. 

Bad boy racing driver Brody Vance has spent his life chasing speed and glory and is only points away from his first world championship when a devastating crash ends his season. Determined to make a triumphant comeback, Brody is blindsided by a diagnosis that forces him off the track for good. With his world flipped upside down and family and fans questioning why he left, Brody hides his pain by pushing the limits and refusing to let anyone see the cracks. But after a chance meeting with a sweet, sexy hockey player turns into an unforgettable one-night stand, fate keeps putting Noah in his path. With his heart on the line and his body racing against time, Brody must decide if he’s willing to risk it all for love—or if he’ll let fear and pride leave him in the dust.

Speed is a steamy M/M romance with a hockey rookie living his family legacy, a bad-boy racing driver with secrets, media attention that would break even the strongest of men, an unforgettable one-night stand, a love that means risking it all, and a hard-won happily ever after.





I'll admit, when I found out the authors had begun a second generation series in their ongoing hockey universe, I had mixed feelings.  Not because I was unsure of the level of quality the story would be, let's face it, everything these two bring to their universe is topnotch, some higher than others but all brilliantly fun.  No, it was the whole "moving on" factor that comes with second generation series.  I don't know what this means for the first generation, if the door has been closed or just set aside for now, I'm just not sure if I'm ready for the possibility of no more Ten/Jared, Stan/Erik, Ryder/Jacob, and many others central to the stories.  Time will tell, I guess.

On to Speed.

With Scott & Locey beginning the next generation of their hockey universe, I couldn't think of a better character to start with, Erik and Stan's little bunny, Noah.  Such a wonderful choice for openers.  Those who are familiar with their hockey universe will certainly remember little Noah, well he's all grown up and a hockey legend-in-the-making, and not just because he's hockey royalty, he has mad hockey skills to go along with those high energy hockey genes.  As much as I may not have been ready for a new generation, I was excited to see where little bunny Noah was headed.

We meet Brody Vance in a not very good place in his life having to be forced to retire early from his racing future due to a medical diagnosis.  He seems to have accepted his fate, reluctantly but still dealing with(kind of), but that doesn't mean he is ready for the public to know.  When the two of them meet it's not exactly going to be a cute meet story to be told for years to come, though eventually I can see them telling a tamed down version of it to their families but in the here and now? Not so much.  Though he may have accepted his health issues on the surface, he still holds plenty of resentment inside and it plays out here and I certainly wanted to give him a good solid shake.

Having been my mother's 24/7 caregiver for many years up until her recent passing, I tend to be hyper aware to the point of over critical when health factors into a story.  Though my dad is currently being treated for the possibility of diabetes, it is one diagnosis I haven't had much personal experience dealing with but from what I do know, the author has dealt with Noah's diabetes with respect and gentle care.  When an author(s) tackles these elements with such respect, I have to mention it and honor their research(or taking from personal experience) because not all authors do.  That's not to say I need a medical lecture or symptom checklist  in the story, I just feel the topic of health is important and needs to be respected, so when an author(s) does it, recognition is deserved.  And RJ Scott and VL Locey presents it right, balancing fact with fiction on the nose.

As I mentioned above, Speed is second generation story with a new class of players but don't think that means we never get to see the Railers we all know and love.  There are a few cameos here and as Noah Gunnarsson is one of the main characters it is only natural that we see his dads, Railer greats Stan and Erik.  They are just as awesome as player's parents as they were players.  And yes, I still read Stan's character with a Russian accent in my head, he could speak up in 100 books and be well into his 90s and I think I'd still hear him the way I did from day one when he appeared in Changing Lines.

Whether, Railers Legacy entry #1, Speed, is a hello to a new generation and a goodbye to the old, or Scott & Locey will be creating stories in both timelines, doesn't really matter.  What matters most is the quality of Noah and Brody's journey and it is superb and I look forward to whatever comes next.

RATING:





ONE
Noah
My phone alarm went off at six a.m. sharp, but I’d been awake for at least an hour before the chiming started. I should’ve cancelled it when I woke up at quarter to five. My nerves had been slowly climbing for the past few weeks when I’d talked to reps from different teams as draft day approached. Now it was here, and after a quick fasting blood sugar test, I grabbed some juice from the fridge, threw open the curtains, and went out onto the balcony to stare spellbound at the Sphere at the Venetian hotel. Las Vegas lay spread out before me, glittering as only Sin City can glitter. Sipping a cold can of tomato juice as the warm desert wind blew over me—I tried to settle my anxiety, but yeah, that wasn’t happening.

Today was the day. I’d been working my ass off for years on the ice to make it to this point. Sometime over the next two days, I’d be drafted by a pro team. I hoped. I wasn’t a super religious person, not as my nana had been before she’d passed. Mama, as Pops had called her, had been super devout, so who knows, maybe all those prayers she had sent skyward as I’d fought tooth and nail through high school to prove a dude with diabetes could make it to the big leagues had paid off.

Whatever the case, I was here, and tonight I’d be seated in the amazing Sphere with my dads as my future was decided. Where would I go? I had three teams I’d like to play for if the hockey gods were being benevolent. I’d be happy to go to Boston or LA. Both the Rebels and Storm were good teams situated in great cities. I planned on spending four years in Bean Town playing for Boston College—Go Eagles!—while getting a theater arts degree. But my number-one choice after college would be the Railers. I mean, that was a no-brainer. My fathers had both played for the Railers, my biological father had been a super solid forward for Harrisburg, and my adoptive pop had been a Hockey Hall of Fame goalie. I’d grown up surrounded by legendary talents such as Tennant Rowe. As a fellow forward, sitting at a picnic table and talking hockey with Ten had been above and beyond. I’d learned so much from all the old guys, and now, after years of hard work, I would hopefully go home and show the GOATs just what I had.

As the sky on the eastern horizon began to pinken just a bit, I looked out over Las Vegas and found one of the songs I’d sung as the lead in Oklahoma in my senior year at school rolling around my head. I started belting out, “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning!” into a gusty wind pushing my sandy curls into my face as I made a small circle. Not to brag or anything, but I had a pretty good voice. I was no Hugh Jackman, but I had landed several leading roles during my school days. One of my teachers even said she felt I could make a go of it on stage if I applied myself, which was cool. I had a backup plan for when I couldn’t play hockey anymore. Noah Lyamin-Gunnarson, the singing puck-pusher. I could see my name in lights on Broadway.

When I got to the line about cattle being statues, the sliding door to the room next door flew open with a crash. I instantly fell silent, hiding behind my can of tomato juice. An older guy, bald, with a big nose, leaned around the divider to glower at me in the predawn light.

“Is that you singing that stupid-ass song?” he asked, and I nodded. “Well, stop it. What kind of moron sings on a fucking balcony at the crack of fucking dawn? Why aren’t you in a bar somewhere trying to get into some showgirl’s panties?”

“Uhm, because I’m not really into showgirls. I mean, I date girls and guys, but I like the people I date to be⁠—”

“Kid, I don’t give a shit if you date donkeys. Stop fucking singing, or I’ll call the front desk.” With that, he disappeared, slamming the door.

“No one appreciates the arts anymore,” I sighed as I finished the song but at a much lower volume. Chuckling to myself, I watched the sun rise fully. Then, I went inside to shower. I would need to eat soon, and my fathers would be up and ready at eight sharp. Earlier perhaps, as we were in Vegas, the city they’d been married in all those years ago. Plus, and this was huge, Vegas was Elvis central, and my Russian father was the biggest Elvis fan I had ever met. I could already imagine what we’d be doing today as we whiled away the time until the first-round picks were chosen this evening. I guess Elvis-themed hotels and tribute shows would take my mind off the most significant moment of my life so far.

Man, I really was a good fit for a drama major.

But it was kind of true. My hockey life was about to be dictated by a bunch of old men sitting in a hotel room reviewing every player in this year’s draft class.

No pressure at all.

If no one chose me, I could always hit the boards as Kenickie in an off-off-off-off-off-off Broadway run of Grease to put food on the table.

Man, I hoped a good team picked me. I’d look stupid with a DA hairstyle.

* * *

“How does one day drag on for so damn long?” I moaned into the mirror in my hotel room as I worked on looping a tie around my neck. My fingers were shaking. Not from anything to do with my diabetes but from straight-out nerves. Although the past twelve hours had been shit in terms of managing my condition. Stress always did this to me. The swings had been manageable for the most part. I’d felt pretty sluggish and muddled before lunch, but after a good meal and some time to chill at the Elvis Diner & Hound Dog Hot Dog Palace, I’d felt better.

Still, I’d better keep a close eye on my numbers. It would suck massively to be called for a round one pick—the odds of that were slim, as I wasn’t a Cole Harrington or anything—to then faceplant as I went up to shake hands and get my sweater. To be honest, I doubted I’d be chosen tonight. Not that I wasn’t good. I was pretty damn good, but I was no generational talent as Tennant Rowe had been, or Cole “Trick” Harrington III was this year. I’d be back tomorrow, Saturday, for rounds two through seven.

My tie was not cooperating, so I tied it into a bow and stalked out of the bathroom to find my jacket. As I passed, someone rapped on the door, so I detoured to check who was there. My siblings had not been able to make it, sadly, as Eva was home with some viral infection that had her spending the past few days puking and pooping. Pops said she’d probably eaten bad moose meat while camping with her fiancΓ©e in Ontario. My other sister, Margo, was over in Japan, working her little fingers away on an anime she and her boyfriend were producing for Animax. She and Botan were quite the team. While I wished they could be here, I totally understood why they couldn’t. Sick was sick, and deadlines were deadlines. They’d be watching on TV, they assured me, as did my aunt Galina, who was nursing an impacted wisdom tooth.

What hurt worse was that my mother hadn’t so much as called to wish me well.

Shaking that familiar hurt off, I opened the door to see my two fathers in the hall. Erik, my biological father, was spiffy as all hell in a dark blue suit that made his blue eyes pop. My adoptive pop, Stan, was dressed conservatively in an olive green suit that went well with his gray eyes. This look was subtle considering he’d been in an Elvis jumpsuit all day.

“Why is your tie in bopeep around your neck?” Pops asked, striding in to my room to stand before me. Pops was a big man so I had to tip my head up to stare at him. “Is this new trend for young peoples to make tie like birthday present?”

“Nah, I was just too jittery to get it tied right,” I confessed. Dad inched in, worry on his face. “It’s cool. My numbers are solid. I’m just really feeling all the nerves. What if I don’t get a team I like?”

“You’ll go to a team you love, I’m sure,” Dad said, then nudged Pops and his big fingers aside to undo my tie. “Even if you don’t, lots of players go to teams they don’t think they’ll enjoy, but they then find that the team, city, and fans make things better. Now lift your chin.”

I could do this myself, obviously but there was something comforting about having your daddy fuss over you. And man, could these two fuss. They were both fussers extraordinaire.

“Da, your dad is right. It will all be good as gumdrops,” Pops assured me as he loped to the sliding doors to stare at the Sphere. “Is most amazing thing that big orb. I wish Mama were here to see it. She would like it.”

“Yeah, Grandma would have been super proud,” I said, and Dad gave me a soft nod and smile as he whipped my tie into shape, then patted it. “Mom hasn’t called yet.”

Dad frowned. “She will. You know your mother. She tends to get caught up in herself but, eventually, remembers there are other people to think about.”

“Yeah, I know.” And I did know that. It's funny how, no matter how old you are, a slight from your parents hurts worse than any other kind. “So, hey, this is a happy night. Let’s head over and face my future!”

“That is spunky pep talk! You will make good captain one day, little rabbit.” Pops draped a thick arm over my shoulder, tugged on the lapel of my navy suit, and pecked my head.

Captain talk was a giant leap. Right now, I’d be happy to be chosen at all.

It was a short distance to the venue, so we walked, the desert air making me sweat. Pops and Dad chattered the whole while. I was usually talkative, but this was too big of a moment, and my nerves were shot.

The coolness of the air-conditioned interior made me feel less twitchy. The armpits of my shirt were already damp, as was my collar. I should’ve cut my hair, but I liked it on the long side. My curls, courtesy of Dad, would look pretty epic hanging out of the ballcap the Railers GM would put on my head. If all went as I hoped. Let’s face it, flow was important.

The room where the draft was held was massive, with chairs on higher risers for the players and their families. On the floor, hundreds of NHL reps milled about tables set beneath a giant domed ceiling with the logos of each pro team.

I felt my guts tighten as our faces replaced the logos—hundreds of hopefuls on that massive screen. I found mine. I looked as goofy as I felt.

“This is big day,” Pops said by my ear. I nodded dully. I was caught between being excited and terrified. “If you need sugar snack, just shout. We both have pockets filled.”

“Thanks, Pops,” I whispered. Someone called my name. I found a familiar face, then another, and then another. “I see a few friends,” I told my fathers as we made our way to our seats.

“Go and talk to them. We’ll save your seat,” Dad said with a smile.

Lots of bro hugs. A small group of us from eastern division teams were shooting the shit, talking about where we hoped to play, girls, guys, and parents, when the prime cut of this year’s draft sauntered up. Cole Harrington III—Trick, to the rest of us mere mortals—strolled in with a woman on his arm who shut the whole room up. Dyna Bubble Mint. Yeah, that Dyna—the rapper whose debut track went gold two months ago. Apparently, first-round hopefuls get first pick of the rising stars, too. Still, I’m shocked she’s on Trick’s arm. Considering Trick’s dad was a fire-and-brimstone TV evangelist with a holy crusade against anything queer or trans, it’s honestly wild that Trick’s even allowed within ten feet of Dyna.

“Hey, Trick,” I said as he neared.

With Dyna on his arm, he strutted right past, as if he didn’t know me or the other guys. We all watched them stroll on by.

“Okay, dude, that was rude,” I grumbled at Trick’s back.

He surely heard me but continued to his seat, an entourage following in his wake—not one of them looking like they were his parents. I shot the rest of the guys in my little chat circle a glance. They all shrugged. We all knew Trick was an asshole at times, probably inherited from his dad, and we’d all heard his homophobic shit—again, probably genetic. Sure, he had stupid skills. But no matter how good he was—and the shithead was good—he would be going to the worst team in the league. So sure, be smug, but not that smug. Most hockey players were humble to the nth—it was drummed into us from peewee up. Even great talents like Crosby, McDavid, and Madsen-Rowe were always respectful. They didn’t walk around with their noses in the air. They were salt of the earth, as the play-by-play guys liked to say.

“Hope he has fun playing to the fifteen Atlanta Phantoms fans who are showing up to watch them lose,” Craig Smythe, a hella nice guy and winger from Harvard, sneered. Being little brats, we all nodded. If anyone could use a good comeuppance, it was Trick.

“Truth,” I added.

“You think he knows that Dyna is…” Craig waved at his crotch and then blushed when I raised an eyebrow. He knew Margo, my sister, had transitioned. “I don’t mean… I just meant… fuck… his homophobic ass is going to be shocked when he finds a…” again with the crotch waving. I stared at him, humored him, and he slunk in his seat. “Fuck, I didn’t mean that, I meant… Jesus… I’m shutting up now.”

“Probably for the best,” I deadpanned, and then shoved Craig. Hard. He ducked his head, still bright red, and muttered another sorry. He was a nice guy—more than that, really—and I knew he didn’t mean any harm, but he needed to understand that it wasn’t okay to reduce people to parts or labels like that.

When the lights dimmed, we all wished each other good luck and returned to our seats. I was wedged between Pops and Dad. My right leg began jumping. I could feel my tension creeping up, although I was sure I’d not be chosen tonight. The extra day of waiting was going to be torture, but we all sat through it. We clapped at each announcement, even Trick, who was grabbed up by the Atlanta team as predicted. The night was long but enjoyable.

“You will go second round for sure, I am predicting,” Pops said as we made our way to our hotel around midnight. I’d been feeling lethargic, so we’d headed out after the final pick of the first round had been called up.

I bobbed my head in agreement. Second would be cool. Third fine. Fourth totally acceptable. Hell, lots of great players had been drafted low. A famous New York goalie had been a seventh-round pick, and he had made a name for himself that had gotten him into the HHOF.

I hit the sheets early, curling up to rest and talk to Rachel Biggs, my ex-girlfriend from school. She and I had dated throughout our junior and senior years, but as graduation had gotten closer, and my departure to Boston grew nearer, we agreed to part but stay friends.

She was also a theater major packing up to move to Manhattan. We talked about that for a long time, and her cat Mojo, and her little sister who was still crushing on me, she said. When I yawned in her pretty face, she gave her long, dark hair a flip, played all affronted, and told me to get some sleep. She wished me luck, blew me a kiss, and ended the call.

Sleep was elusive that night, but it finally came after I recited the script from MacBeth in my head. I conked out at the line about my dull brain, which was on track.

The next morning, I was up early, took a swim instead of singing to greet the day, and met my fathers for breakfast at the hotel restaurant. I had an omelet, bacon, and some sautΓ©ed mushrooms. Coffee with a shot of milk that I had to count for my daily carb intake, but fuck it, I liked milk now and again. Even the most dedicated low-carb follower gave into temptation. Not like it was a milkshake. Those were my Achilles heel. Nothing lured me to the dark side like a chocolate shake.

After the meal, we changed into suits and returned to the vast, domed room for rounds two through seven. It promised to be a damn long day for guys who weren’t chosen until the last round or not at all, which happened. I hoped that wasn’t my fate.

Thankfully, it wasn’t. At ten forty-five in the morning, June 28th, three weeks after the Stanley Cup final, I was picking at the hem of my shirt sleeve when the Railers reps filed onto the stage. My attention moved from my sleeve to the man holding a Railers jersey on stage. We were into the third round now, and as soon as my face and stats flared brightly on the screen behind the Railers people, Pops shouted in glee. I blinked twice to ensure I was seeing what I was seeing and not having a low-sugar fantasy.

Nope, it was me. Sixty-fourth overall. Not too shabby.

I rose as the crowd applauded, hugged my teary-eyed fathers, and made my way to the stage. A showgirl in a sparkly silver outfit took my jacket. I jogged up the stairs, shook hands with people, and then, pulled that famed dusky blue and gray sweater over my head. Someone–the GM, I think–plunked a hat down on my head. Pictures were taken. I was led off the stage to schmooze with Railers’ upper management.

“Welcome to the team, Noah,” Tristen Routers, the Railers’ new owner, said as we waited for my parents to join us backstage. “You’re planning on going to college, right?”

What did he want me to say? Did he want me to go straight to the team? I wasn’t ready. I wanted an education, something to fall back on. Was I messing this up from the start? I caught sight of my dads coming into the room and straightened my back at the pride in their expressions.

“College, sir,” I answered.

He laughed, then pressed a hand to my shoulder. “Good call.”

I wanted to get my degree, make the team in the big show in four years, or go to the Colts, our AHL feeder team. I wanted a career as a hockey player, so it was back to the ice as soon as I got home to train my ass off, then hope I stood out to Coach Morin—if he was still there—in four years.



Saturday's Series Spotlight
Harrisburg Raptors
Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3  /  Part 4

Owatonna U
Part 1  /  Part 2

Arizona Raptors
Part 1  /  Part 2

Boston Rebels
Part 1  /  Part 2

Chestorford Coyotes

LA Storm
Shield  /  Spiral

Railers Legacy
Speed  /  Blitz  /  Powder  /  Fly

Hockey Universe
Xmas Edition
Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Family First

Road to the Stanley Cup Edition
Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3

Father's Day Edition

Caregivers Edition
Part 1  /  Part 2




RJ Scott
Writing 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.




VL Locey
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
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk
EMAIL: vicki@vllocey.com



Speed #1

Harrisburg Railers Series

Owatonna U Series
B&N  /  iTUNES  /  SMASHWORDS
KOBO  /  WEBSITE  /  GOODREADS TBR

Arizona Raptors Series
B&N  /  iTUNES  /  SMASHWORDS
KOBO  /  WEBSITE  /  GOODREADS TBR

Boston Rebels Series
B&N  /  iTUNES  /  SMASHWORDS
KOBO  /  WEBSITE  /  GOODREADS TBR

Chestorford Coyotes Series

LA Storm Series
B&N  /  iTUNES  /  SMASHWORDS
KOBO  /  WEBSITE  /  GOODREADS TBR

Sparkle #1.5(LA Storm)

Railers Legacy Series