My name is Nova Stone and I was a ghost in my own life until a knock at the door changed my whole world. Applying for guardianship of my infant half\-brother was a no brainer, even if I hadn't known he existed. But that was before I met his uncles; two pro ice hockey players, and a CEO. They wanted to take Huey home with them and they were willing to pay me millions of dollars for the privilege. When that didn't work, they managed to convince me that it would be better for my brother–and for me–if I moved into their Ann Arbor mansion. At first, I said hell no. I'd listened to true crime podcasts. I'd read the newspaper articles. But a week of sleepless nights and emotional breakdowns later, I relented. They were helpful, I'd give them that. But they were also hot, and that was a problem. River with his brooding intensity, he was as huge as you'd picture an NHL enforcer to be. His foster brother Devan, who was mysterious and standoffish, and their best friend Rigby, the literal embodiment of a golden retriever in the body of a 6'2 pro athlete. But I had to do what was right for Huey, and anyway, how could I ever choose? And I had to choose...right? STICKS AND STONE is a reverse harem sports romance. There are definitely swear words and steamy bits. This book is a standalone.

Andrei Ludokov A drunken promotional after party involving unlimited vodka, several social media influencers, puck bunnies for miles, and the goalie from an opposing team, leads to a massive mistake. No, not a surprise pregnancy. I was drunk but not that drunk. No, this mistake was worse because even months later, I can’t get it out of my head and it’s effecting my performance. My coaches are on my case because I’m dragging ass on the ice. My friends are all worried because I holed up in my hometown for the entire off season. There’s only one thing to do, and there’s only one person who can help me. Juniper. My best friend and the social media manager for the IceCaps. Sure, she’ll give me her disappointed face. That sighed, “Dammit, Ludo,” that I’ve heard at least once a month since we were fourteen. But in the end she’ll help me, because she’s my Juniper Berry and she wants me to be happy. I just needed her to commit to it before I had to face “The Norse God” on the damn ice again and all my carefully controlled mistakes spiral out of control. If Rigby Engman and River Cooper can have some kind of polyamorous lifestyle in the NHL, why can’t I?