Ace McKinnon If you don’t want me, you want to be me. Being so popular, my extracurricular activities crashed my GPA risking my NCAA eligibility. I asked my professor if there was any way to bump my grade. Let’s just say we worked out a clandestine deal. Look, life is short, okay? My mom’s proof of that. The most beautiful female hockey player there ever was, died too soon. But let’s see … captain of the hockey team, president of Alpha-Sigma, full-time course load, and looking after said hockey team and frat members around the clock. Is it any wonder I have to persuade a few professors to help me with my grades? Professor VanCourt doesn’t even look like a professor. It looks like someone abducted him from the wilderness and dropped him in the classroom. His feral eyes give “raised by wolves”, and I might have been the first human he’s talked to in a while, judging by how many of his words are grunts. This guy is so not gonna let me “work out a deal”. He’s set on putting me in my place. Luke VanCourt His body is a conduit for power, all the force in the world his to harness. It bends to his will. That’s probably why everyone trips over themselves for him. They probably want to be controlled by all that wild power. Not me. I want to restrain it. Keep it under my thumb. Keep him under my thumb. My brother has no issues keeping his team perfectly obedient on the ice, but he needs help with them off the ice. Ace McKinnon is the key. All I need to do is make him comply, and the rest will fall into line. But I’ve never claimed to be a saint. What’s wrong with having fun while I do it? Daddies of the League is a college ice hockey shared world, where you’ll find Daddies both on and off the ice. Skate into your newest obsession and grab them all. Off-Ice Misconduct features an MM age-gap relationship with the kind of possessiveness that will make you shiver and morally gray heroes.
Author
Some of you know her as Mock, others as S. Legend, or Miss S. She welcomes all names but will often go by Mock, a name given to her by her readers. Mock is an ambitious creative, weaving the most precious aspects of her soul into stories. She is an architect, building fascinating worlds, designed from inquiry, rooted in worldly wonderings. It’s an intuitive process where she is the scribe, the translator, the conduit. It helped that storytelling was the language spoken at home. One simply didn’t say, “We have an ant infestation,” in Mock’s family it was, “I was on my way to the living room, when a peculiar ant crossed my path. I looked to my right, a suspicious line of them marched toward the pantry. In that moment I knew; my kitchen was under siege.” The natural flow of conversation always took this form. And so. When Mock wrote her first novel, she didn’t plan it chapter by chapter, there was no outline, no “plotting” to speak of. But she didn’t “pants” it either, she didn’t make it up as she went along. She knew how the story felt, where it curved in places and hollowed in others; she knew the destination it rushed toward. Instead of orchestrating, she let the world inspire her, and held space for the words to come, trusting the characters knew what they were doing. All she had to do was tell a story, as she always had done; like breathing. This is her peace, her healing and solace: Gifts better shared. Mock’s works are the comfort you seek when you need to come home. Her unique writing style will take you, wayfaring reader, to unexpected destinations. She always says, “I’m not in the business of making up stories, I couldn’t if I tired. I’m lucky enough to get picked to share someone else’s story when I ask a question to the universe. Someone answers; I write it down.”
