New Release Spotlight: Unsportsmanlike Conduct by Sophia Henry

Unsportsmanlike Conduct
Pilots Hockey #4

By: Sophia Henry

Releasing October 18, 2016
Loveswept Flirt

Unsportsmanlike Conduct

Pilots Hockey Series

The author of Delayed Penalty returns with the story of a free spirit who believes she’s found forever with a playboy on a singles cruise. Discover why Kelly Jamieson calls the Pilots Hockey series “fun and flirty, warm and sweet.” 

Kristen Katsaros wants a life full of adventure and laughter. After a difficult childhood, her motto is to live each day like it’s her last—because it just might be. So when Kristen’s parents send her on a post-grad singles cruise in the Caribbean to meet a Greek husband, she promptly hooks up with the hottest guy she’s ever met. Pasha’s decidedly not Greek, but Kristen gives him a pass because he’s got fun written all over his rock-hard abs.

Pavel Gribov, the cocky playboy of the Detroit Pilots hockey team, can score any girl he wants. But when a teammate drags him on a singles cruise, he can’t resist the chance to help out a drop-dead gorgeous damsel in distress by pretending to be her boyfriend. Before long, the fake fling turns intimate, fueled by something much deeper than lust.

Kristen and Pasha both agree to walk away once the cruise is over, but reality hits like a slap shot when Kristen finds out Pasha lied about everything. Just when she’s ready to start living again, the two stubborn survivors must decide if they can bear to lose the best thing that ever happened to either of them.

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“So, what’s your story?” I asked.

“My story?” He lowered his head and gazed at me over his sunglasses.

My heart flittered fast, waiting for him to tell me to move or ask why I had chosen to sit next to him, given all the open seats surrounding the pool. But he didn’t.

Had I really chosen this spot because these were the only three empty chairs next to each other? I could have dragged another lounger next to two others.

“You’re not Greek. I can tell that by your accent.” Under the ruse of trying to figure him out, I twisted my torso and leaned toward his chair. Subconsciously I relished the opportunity to study his features more closely. “So you can’t be one of the Detroit-area Greek singles I’m supposed to be hanging out with.”

“I am. I came here with a friend.”

“Who’s your friend?” I asked, tucking my hair behind my ears.

“Blake Panikos.”

I didn’t recognize that name. And after spending the majority of my life around people in the Greek Orthodox community, I pretty much knew anyone close to my age, whether we went to the same church or not.

“How do you know Blake?” I settled back into the lounge chair, flicking back a corner of the towel that had fallen onto my shoulder.

Adonis’s lip curled into a smirk. “Panikos worked with me when I lived in Detroit.”

“Where do you live now?”

“North Carolina.”

“Really?” I sat up. “My best friend just moved to Charlotte.”

“Charlotte. That is where I live.”

“What a small world. She lives downtown, in the Avenue condos.” I paused to correct myself. “Well, I guess you guys call it uptown instead of downtown.”

“Why did she move to Charlotte? Did she get a job there?” Adonis leaned sideways and picked up a plastic cup from the ground next to his chair. He took a sip of his drink.

“No. She moved in with her fiancé. He’s a hockey player.”

Adonis didn’t respond, but he choked on his drink and diverted his eyes toward the pool.

“His name’s Aleksandr Varenkov,” I added. “Do you know him?”

“No,” he answered quickly, and adjusted his aviator sunglasses, which had slid down his nose. “I never heard of him. Maybe if I saw him, I’d know his face.”

“If the Internet worked here, I’d show you a picture on my phone.”

“The ship has Internet,” Adonis corrected me.

“Yeah, but I can’t afford the hundred dollars a minute they charge to access it.” A hundred dollars a minute was only a slight exaggeration—the ship charged enough that I didn’t feel the need to waste my money. I’d wait until we docked somewhere with a restaurant or a bar that offered free Wi-Fi. “So what do you do?”

His gaze veered from my lips to my eyes before he answered. “I am a Pilot.”

“Really? So you’re always traveling, eh? Do you love it?” I reached over and grabbed my water bottle off the tiny table next to my lounge chair.

“I like to fly. To travel. It is, um, a good job for me.” Adonis took another swig from his drink, something clear with a cluster of crushed ice floating in it. “Where do you work?”

I leaned back in the chair and bent my knees slightly—perfect position to soak up the sizzling sunshine. “I’m the assistant to one of the owners of Motor City Bar Management. It’s a company that owns a group of bars around Detroit. I coordinate all the volunteers and employees for events that our bars host or sponsor.” I finished my water and set the empty bottle on the table.

“What kind of events?”

“Concerts. Bar crawls. Promotional events before games,” I said, rattling off a few of the things I’d helped plan recently.

“Wonder if I’ve seen you around,” he said. “I go to a lot of concerts.”

“Probably not,” I said. “I just started two months ago. Before that I was at Central State.”

Adonis’s eyes darted toward something behind me. “You like the party life?”

“Sure. It’s fun right now while I’m young.” I wiggled my toes, watching the pink glitter polish sparkle in the sunlight. “My goal is to learn the ropes of event planning, then turn it into something more professional in a few years when I don’t want to be immersed in the bar scene anymore.”

Suddenly he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the chair, planting them on the ground facing me. Then he leaned close, his face inches from mine.

Was he going to kiss me?

My heart hammered, excited and eager to accept a kiss from this stranger. I licked my lips and closed my eyes. But instead of feeling his mouth on mine, I felt his breath against my face.

“The guy you are trying to avoid is behind you,” he said.

My eyes flickered open. “Huh?”

“The guy you ran from.” Adonis nodded. “He is behind you now.” He leaned back, resuming his original lazy, reclined position. Then he tilted his cup and drained his drink.

How did this guy already have my heart pounding and my mind begging for his lips on mine? I figured the salty ocean air must be permeating my brain and breaking down my common sense.

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Sophia Henry, a proud Detroit native, fell in love with reading, writing, and hockey all before she became a teenager. She did not, however, fall in love with snow. So after graduating with a BS in English from Central Michigan University, she moved to the warmth of North Carolina for the remainder of her winters.

She spends her days writing books featuring hot, hockey-playing heroes. When she’s not writing, she’s chasing her two high-energy sons, watching her beloved Detroit Red Wings and rocking out at concerts with her husband.

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New Release Spotlight: Interference by Sophia Henry

Interference
Pilots Hockey #3

By: Sophia Henry

Releasing June 7, 2016
Flirt

Interference

Pilots Hockey Series

“Sophia Henry tackles real issues that tug at your heartstrings,” raves bestselling author Rachel Harris. Now, in this sweet, sensual Pilots Hockey novel, a young single mom falls for a damaged coach pulling double-duty as a cop.

Linden Meadows doesn’t back down from anyone, especially if her family’s involved. So when her little brother’s new hockey coach benches him in the middle of a game, Linden lets him have it. She also notices that the coach is way hotter than she expects, but Linden won’t let herself get burned by another athlete. Been there, done that—and had a kid at seventeen to show for it.

When Jason Taylor isn’t taking abuse from hockey moms, he’s patrolling the streets as a member of the Bridgeland PD. After Jason pulls Linden over for speeding, he begins to see that there’s more to her than a big mouth . . . or a lead foot. Their chemistry leads to good company, intense conversation, and an intimacy that pushes beyond the boundaries of friendship. And yet Linden’s decision to keep her now three-year-old son, Holden, is a painful reminder to Jason that his own mother gave him up for adoption.

Linden’s sure she’s found the man to round out their family. But when Holden’s deadbeat dad forces his way back into the picture, Jason starts to back off. He needs time—to heal, to grow, and to love with all his heart.

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“What do you recommend, Indie?” The woman asked, glancing at me before dropping her eyes back to the menu.

“Um, well,” I said, faltering. How did the cop’s mom know my name? Had he told his mom about me?

“She read your name tag. Don’t get your hopes up.” Officer Taylor nodded at my chest.

Warmth rushed into my cheeks as I skimmed my fingers across the badge pinned on the right side of my shirt. Name tag, duh. Stupid overactive imagination. Of course he hadn’t told his mom about me. He probably hated me.

The silly disappointment I felt was short-lived, lasting only until his snarky comment hit home.

“Well, the beef brisket is a customer favorite, but I’d recommend the ribs. I mean, everyone loves a pig, right?” I cocked my head to the side, pleased with my joke.

The cop’s lady friend choked on the swig of beer she had taken. She raised her hand and patted her chest.

“You okay, Mom?” He asked, clapping her on the back.

Aha! She was his mom. I knew it.

Taylor’s mom nodded. “Went down the wrong pipe,” she squeaked out before coughing again.

“Should I give you another minute?” I asked. I wanted to slink away. I shouldn’t have said that in front of his mother. I wasn’t a confrontational person. What was it about him that brought out that side of me?

“No, no. We’re ready,” she said and coughed one last time to clear her throat. “I’ll take the ribs.” She winked at me, then bit her lip to keep a smile away.

The cop’s mom was pure awesome.

“And for you?” I coughed my own smile away as I lifted my chin and focused my attention on the officer.

“I’ll have the same thing. I love pigs.” He held out his menu, a smug smile spreading across his face. “With fries, please.”

“Oh, good lord, Jason,” his mom hissed, emphasizing her annoyance with an eye roll.

Jason. Officer Jackweed had a first name.

“Touché.” I nodded as I plucked the menu from his hands, spinning away toward the safety of my computer. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the cop was flirting with me.

It took every ounce of willpower I had not to look over at Jason. Thanks to his mom, I now knew the name of the infuriating, hot, jerky, muscular, arrogant, sexy man I hadn’t been able to get out of my head since I saw him at my brother’s game.

“Indie!”

My head snapped up, breaking me out of the fog of thoughts I’d disguised while inputting the dinner order. How long had Kristen, a server who went by her initials, KK, been calling me?

“Yeah. Sorry. What?” I couldn’t get the right word out.

Get it together, girl. Stop thinking of Jason’s buff forearms.

“Did you make that Bloody Mary for table thirty-three?” KK asked.

“Table thirty-three?” I glanced at Jason, whose eyes caught mine, then shook my head and looked at the tiny printer on the end of the bar, buzzing as it spewed orders the servers had punched in from the dining room computer.

Damn. Bloody Mary for table thirty-three. Four ales, two reds, and a Weizen for various other tables.

Time to get my head back in the game, especially since the printer wouldn’t stop. No looking at Jason until I had to check on how his meal tasted. Usually, I wasn’t easily thrown, especially by a guy.

It’s because he’s new in town. That’s his intrigue. His mystery.

The drink orders never slowed, and I turned my focus back to my customers at the bar and in the dining room. On busy nights, I usually had a second bartender helping with the madness, but Stacy had called in sick at last minute and I hadn’t found a replacement. I couldn’t even be angry with her, since she was three months pregnant. I knew how fast morning sickness came on, and how there was no working around it some days.

I’d been so busy filling drink orders and waiting on my customers at the bar that I hadn’t even had a chance to check on Jason and his mom. Thankfully, a porter had brought out their meals. At my first free moment, I wandered over to Jason.

“You scared off your own mom?” I asked, nodding to the empty chair next to him.

“She’s using the restroom.” Jason took a sip of his beer. “Are you gonna throw sarcastic comments at me all night, or talk to me?”

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked, filling a pint glass with red ale.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Not a question I’d expected.

“How is that your business?”

“You smell like a dude,” he blurted out.

I curled my fingers around the glass, which had almost slipped out of my hand. “Excuse me?”

“Shit. I meant you smell like men’s cologne,” Jason said, backtracking. “It wasn’t an insult.”

“I like the smell of men’s cologne better than perfume.” I set the first pint aside and began filling a second.

“Why’d you skip the boyfriend question?”

“Because it’s not your business.”

Jason leaned in, his voice low. “It is if I want to ask you out.”

“You what?” I readjusted my grip on the glass and pushed the handle of the tap back to stop the flow of beer.

“I think we should hang out.” Jason wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it onto his empty plate.

“That’s the best you can do, copper? I thought you were smoother than that.” I winked and walked away, carrying the beers I’d filled to the end of the bar for a server to pick up. Then I made a Moscow Mule and checked on a few other customers sitting at the bar before printing Jason’s check and placing it in front of him.

“Will you please go on a date with me?” Jason asked, not missing a beat.

My heart pounded against my chest. I was both flattered and frustrated by his persistence. “You expect me to say yes, don’t you?”

“It’s obvious that you like me.” Jason’s blue eyes twinkled, catching light from the pendulum fixture hanging over the bar.

“I like looking at you,” I countered, “but your personality leaves a bit to be desired.”

“Really?” The skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Let’s pretend I’d ever say yes. Where would a cocky cop take someone on a first date?” I couldn’t wait to hear what he thought was fun.

“It’s a surprise.”

“You ask me on a date and you don’t even know where you’re going to take me?” I lifted his plate and wiped crumbs and condensation off the bar with a towel. “That’s sad, copper.”

“Why would you assume that?” he asked, his tone indignant.

“Can I be honest?” I asked. Time to strike the final blow. Though Jason had my insides flipping like no one ever had before, now wasn’t the right time to start dating. I had a million things to worry about before opening up my heart again.

“Please.” He nodded.

“You moved to a small town to be a cop and coach hockey.” I paused. “You sound like a total bore.”

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Sophia Henry, a proud Detroit native, fell in love with reading, writing, and hockey all before she became a teenager. She did not, however, fall in love with snow. So after graduating with an English degree from Central Michigan University, she moved to North Carolina, where she spends her time writing books featuring hockey-playing heroes, chasing her two high-energy sons, watching her beloved Detroit Red Wings, and rocking out at concerts with her husband.

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Book Blast: Power Play, Pilots Hockey #2 by Sophia Henry

Power Play
Pilots Hockey #2

By: Sophia Henry

Released February 16^th, 2016
Flirt

Power Play

Pilots Hockey Series

In Sophia Henry’s blistering follow-up to Delayed Penalty, hailed as “sexy, fun, and full of angst” by L. P. Dover, a good girl and a hockey hunk face off against expectations—and this match is guaranteed to see plenty of action.

Beneath her innocent facade, Gabriella Bertucci has her reasons to be standoffish with guys. Especially guys like Landon Taylor, a star defenseman on the minor-league Detroit Pilots and the object of a serious crush since he first walked into her family’s market. But when Landon comes through for her in a moment of crisis, Gaby starts to wonder if there might be more to Landon than hard muscles and fast skates.

Landon isn’t afraid of telling Gaby that he’s got it for her bad. The problem is, she seems unwilling to believe it. And though Landon enjoys his reputation as a cool-headed athlete, he hates losing—both on the rink and off. It’s his competitiveness that makes him so damn good at what he does . . . but it also makes him just a little bit complicated.

One minute Gaby’s tempted to give in; the next, she’s getting cold feet. How can she trust a guy who’s destined for bigger and better things to stick around? Then again, when Landon pulls her close with those powerful arms, the only thing that matters is right now.

I circled the room in slow motion. If it was possible to be completely creeped out and in awe at the same time, that was how I felt. The graffiti scared me. A gang member could walk in, paint cans drawn, at any minute. Then again, I’m pretty sure Mafia guys walked in to Bertucci Produce on a regular basis, so I guess danger could be anywhere.
“What are you thinking?” Landon asked. He climbed onto a step at the bottom of one of the columns, wrapped one arm around it, and hung off. Like someone familiar with stripper poles.
“You don’t want to know.” I shook my head, laughing off my thoughts.
Landon grabbed the column with his extended arm and jumped down. “I do. You’re really quiet. I can’t tell if you’re freaked out or what?”
“A little freaked out. This place is creepy on the inside. But cool. Creepy cool.”
I snapped a few more shots of the interior, trying to get the daylight streaming through the windows. I wanted to capture the haunted feel; a halo, a shadow, something.
“Creepy cool. Haunted. Abandoned. I just described our whole fucking life as Detroiters, eh?” A bitter laugh escaped him.
“I know, right? I don’t know one person without a painful story.”
“What’s yours?”
“Hmm?” I lowered the camera.
“What’s your story? I see a shy girl from a successful family.”
“Success comes with hard work.”
“I never said it didn’t.”
“My story? Arson. Murder. Most recently theft.” I ticked off the tragedies that my family had gone through, and those were only the ones that affected me directly. It sounded like a suspense novel.
“Holy shit, Gaby.”
“I should be in jail, right?” I smiled to lighten the mood. “But this is Detroit.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
A beam of sunlight bounced off a piece of broken glass in the debris covering the floor, creating a prism across one of the large columns. Sunshine and rainbows and murder and arson.

Life. And death.

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Sophia Henry, a proud Detroit native, fell in love with reading, writing, and hockey all before she became a teenager. She did not, however, fall in love with snow. So after graduating with an English degree from Central Michigan University, she moved to North Carolina, where she spends her time writing books featuring hockey-playing heroes, chasing her two high-energy sons, watching her beloved Detroit Red Wings, and rocking out at concerts with her husband.

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