The ice is my happy place. My sanctuary. The source of my happiest memories, and the promise of my future. It’s also the reason I’m living a lie. There’s no better feeling than holding another man in your hand while he comes undone. Smooth skin wrapped around rigid muscle, a tantalizing mixture of soft and hard that pulses like a heartbeat within your fist. Grunts, moans, and breathless curses are uttered in cadence with the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Strained tendons in his neck. I’ve yet to see a sexier sight than a man in the throes of his release. The only thing that tops it is when I’m the one who gives it to him. It’s intoxicating… powerful . For just a moment, I’m in complete control. He’s placed something as sacred as his pleasure in my hands and trusted me to satisfy his needs. Maybe it’s the fact that men are big and hard that makes watching them fall apart so sexy. Or maybe I just like seeing them vulnerable because society says we shouldn’t be. Whatever the reason, I’m hopelessly drawn to men. Have been since I first learned what attraction was. But that’s my dirty little secret. One that could cost me my shot at the NHL if it comes out. That’s why he is so dangerous. My lifelong dream is within reach, and now there’s another I want to pursue. If only it weren’t such bad pucking timing.

Thor meets Tony Hawk in this comedic, low-angst/high spice MM romance about a serious hockey goalie who is drawn out of his shell by a bratty skateboarder, a dare involving cake, and a lesson in how to use joysticks-for video games of course. On the surface, I’ve got it all. I’m the starting goalie and Captain of the Colorado Bulldogs hockey team. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with. I can count an entire team of elite athletes as my friends. And according to the pundits, I’m an eligible bachelor. That's the image everyone sees, but it’s just a role I play. A part dictated by my career. I have to be just as perfect off the ice as I am on it since everything I do reflects on my team in some way or another. So, those questions I have about why I don’t crave sexual contact the way my teammates do–questions I’m afraid to ask with the world watching… I decided a long time ago it didn’t make sense to look for answers until after I retire. Then I ran into him. Tripp is loud, obnoxious, and full of confidence. Some people find his sass off-putting, but not me. I find it intriguing, and I admire his ability to be himself, consequences be damned. Apparently, I also admire the way he looks, since my eyes seem to linger on him longer than they should, and when he sets his sights on me… Waiting for retirement to explore who I am seems like too big a sacrifice, so when Tripp offers to help me answer some of those questions about myself, I jump. I'm tired of pretending to be Mr. Perfect… Tripp and his playboy antics might be just the thing I need to figure out who I am outside of hockey. The only problem is, everyone–including our mutual friends–see him as a bad pucking influence. Updated to correct a corrupt file issue that impacted formatting. Bad Pucking Influence is a low-angst, high-spice MM romance featuring a hockey player and a brat, not a hockey book featuring a romance. Fans of bratty playboys and gentle giants will enjoy this light-hearted, steamy yet touching love story.

Secrets threaten disaster in this bi-awakening, MM romance about two teammates who have chemistry that extends beyond the ice, an unconventional roommate agreement, and a not-safe-for-work pair of dice. Athletes are notoriously superstitious. Some don’t wash their gear. Others sleep with it. I’ve even heard of a guy that peed on the field to ward off evil spirits. But as far as I’m aware, my teammate Luca is the only guy whose ritual requires a more intimate activity. I wouldn’t know that if I hadn’t stumbled into it by accident, and even then, I wouldn’t have thought my presence had any effect. But the next day he got on the ice and had one of the most spectacular games I've seen him play. One of his best ever. And it gives me an idea. At first Luca objects. He’s embarrassed by the things he has to do to play well and doesn’t want to involve me in his sordid activities. But when he realizes there’s no other option he relents, and we become roommates to make things…convenient. It was supposed to be a means to an end. A way to prolong his career. Things don’t go according to plan. Now I’m harboring two secrets, both of which could hurt Luca and the team, and there’s no telling how deep the consequences will run if they come out. But one thing is certain—as the veteran player, he’s the one they’ll accuse of being a bad pucking roommate.