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DELAYED PENALTY
Pilots Hockey #1
Sophia Henry
Releasing Sept 1st, 2015
She closed her heart long ago. He just wants to open her mind. For fans of Toni Aleo and Sawyer Bennett, the debut of Sophia Henry’s red-hot Detroit Pilots series introduces a hockey team full of complicated men who fight for love.
Auden Berezin is used to losing people: her father, her mother, her first love. Now, just when she believes those childhood wounds are finally healing, she loses something else: the soccer scholarship that was her ticket to college. Scrambling to earn tuition money, she’s relieved to find a gig translating for a Russian minor-league hockey player—until she realizes that he’s the same dangerously sexy jerk who propositioned her at the bar the night before.
Equal parts muscle and scar tissue, Aleksandr Varenkov knows about trauma. Maybe that’s what draws him to Auden. He also lost his family too young, and he channeled the pain into his passions: first hockey, then vodka and women. But all that seems to just melt away the instant he kisses Auden and feels a jolt of desire as sudden and surprising as a hard check on the ice.
After everything she’s been through, Auden can’t bring herself to trust any man, let alone a hot-headed puck jockey with a bad reputation. Aleksandr just hopes she’ll give him a chance—long enough to prove he’s finally met the one who makes him want to change.
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“Hey,”
someone said, tapping my shoulder. I spun around to see the karaoke
host.
“Greg.”
He thrust his hand at me.
“Auden,”
I said, taking his outstretched palm. “Thanks for switching songs.”
“Tina
Turner didn’t seem like your thing.” Greg might’ve had a cute
face hiding under his beard. Still not my type, though. Too monotone.
Even the plaid flannel hanging off his lean frame was brown. His
style screamed Eddie Vedder, nineties grunge rather than today’s
hipster cool.
“Oh,
I can rock some Tina. Just wasn’t feeling ‘Proud Mary’ without
my backup dancers.” I pointed to Kristen and Lacy.
Greg
laughed. “Need a drink?”
“I
already have—” I searched the table for my drink, spotting it in
Lacy’s boyfriend’s hand. “Actually, I do.”
Ignoring
Kristen’s megawatt smile, I followed Greg to the bar. She better
not have set him on me to boost my spirits. She knew he wasn’t my
type. Douche bags like Crazy Hair and the guys he’d flipped off got
my motor running. Douche bags and I were on the same wavelength.
Neither of us wanted more than the other could offer.
Greg
moved to the side so I could order. “Club soda with three limes,
please.”
“And
a Steam Whistle.” Greg pointed to a beer I didn’t recognize in
the stand-up cooler behind the bar. The bartender nodded and
extracted a bottle.
“You’ve
got a killer voice,” Greg said.
“Well,
there’re no Tina Turner–type vocals in that song.” I blew off
his compliment.
“No,
but it’s hard to sing that soft and keep your key.” His mouth
curved into a wide, kind smile. “You from around here?”
“Detroit,”
I said, nodding. “But I go to Central State.”
“Are
you kidding?”
I
shook my head and picked up the drink the bartender had placed in
front of me.
“So
do I. That’s crazy.” Greg held up a few bills, waiting until the
bartender saw the money before setting it on the bar. “My roommates
and I have a band and we’re looking for a singer right now.”
“You’re
in a band? That’s awesome,” I said, focused on mashing the limes
in my drink. I raised my glass to him. “Thank you, by the way.”
“No
problem.” He picked at the label on his beer bottle. “Any
interest?”
“In
what?” I asked, looking at Greg over the top of my cup.
“Singing
for our band.” He didn’t even blink.
“You’re
joking, right?” I laughed. Asking me to sing in his band after
hearing one karaoke song was hilarious. I’d never taken voice
lessons, and as far as I knew, I didn’t have any significant
talent.
“Why
would I joke?” He didn’t seem to understand my laughter at all.
“I
just sang in public for the first time and you’re asking me if I
want to be in a band?” Being the center of attention for five
minutes in a karaoke bar was one thing; standing on stage in front of
people expecting a show was a different beast.
“So
that explains your lack of stage presence,” Greg said as he ran his
fingers over his beard, looking more English professor than rocker.
“Quite
the charmer, aren’t you, G-man?” I took a drink. I knew I didn’t
have stage presence. Hell, I didn’t make eye contact.
“Stage
presence can be learned,” he said. “You have a great voice and a
hot look.”
Once
I realized he wasn’t kidding, I was speechless.
Greg
continued peeling the label off his beer bottle as he waited for me
to speak. “It’s nothing crazy. We just play bars in Bridgeland,
well, mostly at Wreckage.” He chuckled.
“Yeah,
I don’t think so, but thanks for asking.” I forced a half smile.
“Come
on,” he pleaded. “Just try out. If you like it, great.”
“I
don’t think I could even learn to be comfortable on stage.”
“I
can get you over your stage fright.” Greg’s voice was molasses,
thick and smooth; a contrast to his grunge-hipster vibe. The lights
flickering above gave his previously plain eyes a sensuous sparkle as
he waited for my answer.
Why
did I have to be a sucker for sparkles? “Okay, sure.” My head
bobbed in reluctant consent. “The worst that could happen is I fail
miserably, right?”
“You
might surprise me.” Greg winked. He searched the bar before
grabbing a pen lying on an abandoned credit card receipt. Then he
flipped over a coaster advertising some brewing company’s winter
ale and began scribbling. “Here’s my number. Call me next week
for an audition.”
“This
is crazy.” I took the coaster from him.
“What
do you have to lose?” His eyes were solid and intense as he stared
at me.
Nothing.
I’d long since lost it all. But he didn’t know that.
Without
another word, he walked away, leaving me alone at the bar, perplexed
by the interaction.
“What
did Eddie Vedder’s son have to say?” Kristen asked, nodding
toward Greg, who had resumed his place behind the karaoke machine. Of
course Kristen would think of a similar description for his look. It
was one of the many reasons we’d been calling each other the “other
half” since the first day of freshman year when we were assigned
the same dorm room.
“He
wants to me to try out for his band,” I said, flashing her the
coaster. “Which is stupid.”
“No
it isn’t.” She snatched my hand and squeezed. “You’re really
good.”
I
shook my head. Right now I was high from my time on stage and the
applause and compliments I’d received, but as soon as I got home
and thought about the unexpected conclusion to my soccer career
again, the euphoria would abandon me. Just like my team had.
Just
like everyone does.
“You’re
a popular lady tonight. The Mohawked hottie stared at you the entire
time you talked to karaoke guy.”
I
followed Kristen’s gaze to the table where Crazy Hair and his
friends were sitting. Though the group seemed to be leaving, downing
their drinks and grabbing their coats, Crazy Hair stood still, his
penetrating eyes on me.
I
had a feeling he was the type of guy who would say anything to get me
to take him home, and then slink away without a word the next
morning. Though drinking had usually been involved when that had
happened, I couldn’t even blame the alcohol. I fell for guys like
him because I needed the attention. I needed to feel like someone
wanted me. I needed to pretend that someone might be able to love me.
The
way parents should have loved me.
It
was an impossible void to fill.
Crazy
Hair slid one of the muscular arms I’d admired earlier around the
shoulders of the girl with the tight red sweater. She had big
everything. Big hair, big boobs, big smile. Still holding my gaze, he
said something against her ear, and she threw her head back in a
laugh revealing big white teeth. Moving his hand to her back, he
allowed her to go first as they followed the rest of the group toward
the door.
Which
reminded me of another definition of smoke
show:
to dominate, crush, or otherwise humiliate the opposition.
Mission
accomplished.
Douche.
I
chose Delayed Penalty because I don't read many New Adult or sports
orientated books and wanted to broaden my reading horizon. This
hockey based début novel by Sophia Henry is definitely a worthy
introduction.
Auden
Berezin's
life has been turned on its head after she looses her scholarship, so
she needs cash fast! Her grandfather often asks her to help with
Russian translations only this time, she is allowed to work with a
client in person, a hockey player. He might be good looking, but
he's also an ass.
Russian
Aleksandr
Varenkov is
playing in minor league hockey with aspirations of making it to NHL.
He requests a translator as he doesn't like speaking to the press
even though he can speak English. He gives off an arrogant vibe, but
there is far more to him than a cocky player.
Auden
and Aleksandr appeared far wiser than their young years, which was
surprising until details from their past begin to unfurl. I liked
Auden's pragmatic outlook with regards to her relationship with
Aleksandr although in reality she was too dismissive and
underestimated the depth of his feelings for her. Aleksandr was way
more mature for his age maybe due to the tragedy in his life or his
cultural background?
Overall
an enjoyable, quick read with likeable and developed characters. I
would have preferred the plot to have focussed more on the hockey and
the Pilots, with greater attention to the protagonists relationship.
The plot was too busy and the sub-plots going off at tangents meant
their wasn't enough focus in the right places.
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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