Blog Tour, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway:
Bad Pucking Influence by Michele Lenard
Colorado Bulldogs, Book 2
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.
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.
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Something is seriously wrong with me.
It’s been well over a month since Noah almost touched me, and in that time no one else has seen me naked, much less been close enough to put their hands on me. If anyone knew I haven’t been railed in weeks they’d have me on a therapist’s couch faster than I can drop my pants and bend over. Fortunately, summer means vacation, so people I’d normally see on a regular basis aren’t around to notice my dry spell.
Even Xander, who’s been in Sweden visiting Niko’s family for the last few weeks. I’m almost disappointed he gets home tomorrow. He’ll undoubtedly notice when I don’t bombard him with tales of my escapades during his absence.
Yes, I’ve had this weird infatuation with the big guy since I first saw him, and yes, I tempered my antics after we met. But I wasn’t celibate. I thought that word had been stricken from my vocabulary, yet since Noah nearly touched me in his driveway, my dick hasn’t received any attention. By choice… I might as well have joined a convent.
I’ve replayed the encounter in my head more times than I care to admit. When Noah’s skin nearly brushed over mine, I swear every nerve perked up, like someone hollered out free condoms. My entire body prickled with awareness, and the spot where he nearly made contact seemed to sizzle like an invisible current flowed between us.
No, not a current, a seismic force, like the damn tractor beam from Xander’s space movies. It had me fully in its grasp, helpless to resist. My lungs seized up, and not from some coy attempt to hold my breath. I wanted his touch so bad, and didn’t want the subtle rise of my chest to spook him. I think I might’ve prayed to a God I don’t believe in for Noah to lay his hands on me, and when he didn’t… When he resisted the pull…it nearly killed me.
The last time I felt that crushed I was sixteen years old and newly homeless. I was so lost and alone, part of me wished for death. Fear of actually dying is the only reason I didn’t give up, and while Noah’s hesitation didn’t put me back in that headspace, the flicker of disappointment hit harder than it should’ve. Needless to say, I’m less than thrilled it’s where I’ve ended up, especially since I can’t fuck away my frustration with anyone else.
That’s never been an issue for me before. I love the chase, and usually I’m successful. On the off chance I’m not, I’ve got no problem moving on. Plenty of cocks in the sea, as the saying goes. Only that near miss with Noah seems to have ruined my mojo. There hasn’t been a single twitch in the nether region since. Nada. Zilch. In fact, the only thing that’s made my cock perk up is my own hand, but only when coupled with mental images of my sexy Thor admiring my tattoos the way he did that day.
I am way too young to be dried up. I shouldn’t have to rely on Viagra, either, and sadly I’m seeing that little blue pill in my future… There’s only one way to fix this. I need Noah to work up the courage to take me for a spin. Hopefully, that will reset whatever off switch he flipped and get me back to my typical shameless self. It has to. I can’t live in these conditions.
About the Author
Michele is a tomboy who writes contemporary romance (usually sports themed) that is both sweet and steamy. Her goal is to make you fan your face as you wipe a tear from your eye. Her books are part of a series but there are no cliffhangers so each can be read as a standalone. When she isn’t reading or writing she enjoys the outdoors, something that pops up in her books from time to time.
Connect with Michele:
www.linktr.ee/mlenard
https://www.instagram.com/mlenardbooks/
https://www.facebook.com/michelelenardbooks
