Love Affair With Ficti

Title: Bombshells
Author: Sarina Bowen
Series: A Brooklyn Bruisers Novel

A new stand-alone hockey romance from USA Today bestseller Sarina Bowen.

 

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣’𝙨 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙜𝙪𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚! 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙡𝙮𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝘼𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝘽𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢…

This is my last chance to ditch my playboy reputation and finally fulfill my potential. So I’ve made three rules for our biggest season yet: no boozing, no women, and no scandals.

Especially that last thing.

So who do I befriend on the very first day back at the rink? An amazing female hockey player. I want Sylvie in a way that’s more than just friendly. I crave her. But I have a championship to win, and so does she.

Then she gets her heart broken by my teammate, and I make the foolish mistake of comforting her in the best way I know how. Our night together sets off a string of sins.

Nobody can know about our affair, especially my overprotective teammate. I can’t let anyone see into my greedy little heart. Not even her.

The things I want from her, and the things we’ve already done? If anyone knew, there’d be bombshells.

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Long after daylight arrives, I lay stretched out in my bed, my eyes shut, fighting off the reality of morning.

My thighs ache, probably from yesterday’s workout. But I’m also deliciously sore in some places I didn’t know I could be sore.

Behind my shuttered eyelids, the night isn’t over yet. If I stay in this dreamlike place, I can relive each thrill that Anton gave me. Each stroke of his magic hands across my bare skin. 

As first times go, I realize I’ve hit the jackpot. His obvious skill and devotion to female pleasure make me a very lucky girl.

But that wasn’t last night’s biggest surprise. It wasn’t just the thrills and chills. It was the heady emotional journey that we seemed to take together. His kisses tasted as hungry as mine. His touch was reverent, his words desperate. 

Maybe it’s all in my head. A girl can imagine a deep connection that isn’t really there. 

I’m a pro at that, actually.

But it felt so real. Even after the last groan and gasp had passed, Anton’s kisses didn’t stop. As I floated down from the extreme high of sexual pleasure, his lips continued to trace my neck, and gentle hands smoothed over my hips and down my back.

That part—the aftermath—was just as beautiful to me. I’d never wanted it to end.

Eventually, he’d gotten up to visit my bathroom. I’d heard him running the sink and washing up. Then I’d braced myself for his departure. His team began an eight-day road trip this morning. It’s not like he had a lot of extra time to share. 

But he hadn’t thrown on his clothes and left. Instead, he’d come back to the bed, straightening out the covers we’d tossed around during our sex fest. 

Then he’d lifted the covers and slid in beside me.

Feeling blessed, I’d rolled to meet him in the middle, where strong arms wrapped me into the sweetest embrace. 

We hadn’t spoken much. I’d felt too dreamy for casual conversation. And I don’t know what I would have found to say besides wow and thank you and please feel free to do that again.

My silence had also prevented me from blurting out the news that the whole experience had been a first for me. That’s nobody’s business but mine. And Anton doesn’t need the burden of dealing with my strange life choices. 

I didn’t want him to know, because it would have changed everything. He didn’t baby me. His brand of aggressive, bossy, emotional lust was a real eye-opener. 

But only metaphorically, because I refuse to open my eyes. 

Although I’d already cheated once, when I’d rolled over to discover that Anton had left me a note—short and sweet and just as perfect as our night together.

Sylvie—you are a sleeping beauty. There aren’t words to describe last night. Except maybe “Wow.” I will call you tonight. —A.B.

And there was a smiley face. When I’d read the note, that smiley face had matched my own.

“Sylvie,” comes Fiona’s voice through the door, followed by a knock. “Are you still in bed?”

“Yes. So?” I cover my eyes with one arm, as if the extra barrier could prevent the day from arriving. 

“Get up. We have to go to brunch.”

I search my memory for anything related to brunch and come up empty. “Why? Shouldn’t you be at work?” I stretch lazily. 

“It’s Sunday. Get up. You have twenty minutes to shower and get dressed.”

“Or else?” I do not understand the urgency.

“Or else I will combust from all the questions I have for you.”

Uh-oh. Fiona seems to know that I wasn’t alone in my bedroom last night. Maybe she heard Anton leave. But I’m not about to tell the whole team about my wild night. “It’s just going to be you and me at brunch, right?”

“If you don’t get up, I’ll start inviting other people.”

“No!” I throw off the comforter. “Fine. I’m getting up.”

 

 

Seriously, I can’t even explain the excitement I get when a Sarina Bowen book lands on my kindle. I always know it is going to be a fantastic, engaging read with characters I would love to be friends with in real life!

I love her Brooklyn Bruisers series—a series of ice hockey romances that all stand on their own. But really, why would you want to read just one?

Baby Bayer finds his match in Sylvie. I loved how they developed a solid friendship before anything happened between them. It was a true friends to lovers tale where you really felt it all. It had me rooting for them so hard because I was truly invested in their becoming a couple. And how they supported each other… swoon.

And huge props for really showcasing the women! I loved that this book wasn’t just about the Brooklyn Bruisers (men’s hockey team) but also the Bombshells (women’s hockey team). And it showcased the good and the bad… the strides being taken in women’s sports but also the complete inequity that exists between men’s and women’s teams.

Bombshells is a sexy, smart, funny, friends to lovers romance that I didn’t want to put down. I hope we get to see even more from both the Bruisers AND the Bombshells!

Sarina Bowen is the award-winning author of more than thirty contemporary novels. She has hit the USA Today bestseller’s list thirteen times and counting. Formerly a derivatives trader on Wall Street, Sarina holds a BA in economics from Yale University.

Sarina is a New Englander whose Vermont ancestors cut timber and farmed the north country since the 1760s. Sarina is grateful for the invention of indoor plumbing and wi-fi during the intervening 250 years. On a few wooded acres, she lives with her husband, two boys, and an ungodly amount of ski and hockey gear.

Sarina’s books are published in a dozen languages on four continents.

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