My Thoughts
I am a huge fan of Sawyer's and love her Cold Fury Hockey series. I couldn't wait to read Zack's story. I remembered the tragedy that happened to him in the last book and wanted to read how he and Ben were doing afterwards.
Zack is still in limbo after what happened with Gina and dealing with not feeling anything since. He has to find a nanny for Ben and his sister finds Kate for him. I so loved Kate. She was a breath of fresh air for both Ben and his daddy. She was goofy and sweet and strong. She awakens something inside of Zach that he really isn't ready for and she falls head over heels for him. They agree to an arrangement that involves sex but nothing more. I wanted to give Zach a swift kick a time or two especially after the conversation with one of his teammates. I loved that Kate touched something inside him that opened up his heart. Their story made me laugh and cry and especially swoon. I can't wait to read the next book in the series.
I give Zach 5 hearts!
Zack is still in limbo after what happened with Gina and dealing with not feeling anything since. He has to find a nanny for Ben and his sister finds Kate for him. I so loved Kate. She was a breath of fresh air for both Ben and his daddy. She was goofy and sweet and strong. She awakens something inside of Zach that he really isn't ready for and she falls head over heels for him. They agree to an arrangement that involves sex but nothing more. I wanted to give Zach a swift kick a time or two especially after the conversation with one of his teammates. I loved that Kate touched something inside him that opened up his heart. Their story made me laugh and cry and especially swoon. I can't wait to read the next book in the series.
I give Zach 5 hearts!
About the Book
New
York Times bestselling author Sawyer Bennett goes for a hat trick with the
latest romance in a sexy series about cool-as-ice hockey players and the women
heating up their lives.
Warning:
The following contains spoilers from a cliffhanger in Garrett.
Rising star Zack Grantham has been
stuck in a downward spiral of grief that has put his career on hold. Back on
the road with the Carolina Cold Fury, still crippled by emotional baggage, and
now a single dad, he’s in need of some serious help with his son. But while the
nerdy new nanny wins his son’s heart, Zack isn’t sure he’s ready for a woman’s
touch—even after getting a glimpse of the killer curves she’s hiding under
those baggy clothes.
Kate Francis usually keeps men like
Zack at a distance. Though his athlete’s body is honed to perfection, he
refuses to move on with his life—and besides, he’s her boss. Still, the sparks
between them are undeniable, tempting Kate to turn their professional
relationship into a personal one. But before she makes a power play for Zack’s
wounded heart, Kate will have to open him up again and show him that love is
worth the fight.
Purchase Links
Excerpt
The overhead lights go out, and the club would be in total
darkness if not for the recessed lights that edge the perimeter of the stage. I
slouch down in my seat, pulling my ball cap lower over my forehead. This causes
me to have to tilt my head back a little bit farther to watch the show but
keeps my face better obscured. The beard I’d been growing for the past four
months I’m sure helps to hide my fame as well.
I don’t want to be recognized.
I don’t want anyone to see me and realize just how low Zack
Grantham has fallen from grace.
A sexy techno beat starts thrumming low, gradually building
in decibels. A few whistles pierce the air, one redneck sounding a catcall. A
rolling tide of mechanical fog slithers across the black lacquered stage and
then swirling spotlights from the corners of the club start rotating. A slight
flutter at the pitch-black curtains that sit closed tight is the only
indication that something is about to happen.
A quick glance down at my phone that sits on the table in
front of me shows that the time is almost midnight. Time for the grand finale
of the evening. The moment all of the drunk and horny patrons of The Golden Box
have been waiting for.
I ignore the phone, but tip back the tequila shot sitting in
front of me, my eyes sliding up to the stage as I set the glass back down. When
the music reaches its apex, a slim but toned bare leg sporting an obscenely
high-heeled red shoe peeks through the slit of the curtains, thigh parallel to
the floor . . . calf muscle taut, with toes pointing downward. The whistles and
catcalls increase, but I watch dispassionately.
The owner of that bare leg raises her knee up higher, then
stretches it out fully . . . gracefully, and holds it there, just as the music
lulls to a slow grind.
She holds it for just a second.
Just a moment, where everyone waits to see what comes next.
The curtains fly apart just as the bass thump of music
crashes through the club and a stunning woman with glorious curly blond hair
bursts through. My brain processes a starched white button-down shirt and a
black fedora on her head, then just as quickly processes the fact that she
reaches to the dipping gap at her chest and rips the shirt open. Beautiful,
round, and by the looks of them, real, boobs pop forth . . . spectacularly bare
and bouncing.
A hundred horny men start cheering and I’m sure the majority
of dicks go to full mast.
The stripper, who I happen to know goes by the name Candi
Apple—and yeah, that’s Candi with an i—struts confidently up to the silver pole
lodged firmly at the edge of the stage.
Hips swaying, tongue licking at her full bottom lip, hair
wild and blowing from some kind of cheesy wind machine built into the stage
flooring.
Her right hand reaches out, grabs the pole, and she bends
her knees . . . squatting way down until her ass is almost on the floor. Her
legs are spread wide and the rotating strobe lights cause sparkles to bounce
off the silver sequins that cover the scrap of material between her legs. Candi
gyrates her hips, fucking the pole . . . right in front of me. Her dark eyes
scan the men surrounding the stage, calculating who might be the biggest
tipper. Her gaze passes right over me because I don’t have green clutched in my
fingertips waving back and forth with zeal to stuff them in her G-string.
The show goes on and I watch it all . . . willing for my
body to feel something. I’d hoped for a hard-on to prove I wasn’t dead, but
even a slight fluttering of lust deep in my groin would have been welcomed.
Hell, I’d probably kill for a gurgle of indigestion—just fucking something—
anything to show I could react.
I come up fucking empty.
The slight ache in my right wrist pulls my attention away
from the tits and ass, and I open and close my fist several times to ease the
cramp, finally giving it a hearty shake. Overall, my wrist has healed well over
the last four months. The plates and screws have been removed, physical therapy
has been completed, and I’m feeling physically strong. Yeah . . . my wrist is
aching right now, but only because I’ve been gripping the armrests of my chair
too tightly while I waited to see if Candi Apple might be the one to bring me
back to life.
Luckily, it’s just an ache and certainly not something that
gives me any pause. I’ve been cleared by the team orthopedist, Mark Godson, and
cleared by Coach Pretore as well. Starting next week, I’ll resume practice with
the team, and if I’m lucky, it won’t be long before I’m back in the game . . .
a starting second-line left winger for the Cold Fury.
My insides feel dead, my capacity to care for much of
anything seems lost, but there are two things that still keep me functioning.
It’s the prospect of playing hockey again, and, more important, my son, Ben.
A flare of light catches my eye and I see my phone screen
glare brightly. I grab it and wince at the angry text from my sister, Delaney.
WTF Zack? You leave an hour ago to get some milk and you’re
not back. Where are you?
Guilt suffuses through me, and it’s not lost on me that I’m
actually feeling an emotion. But then again . . . the acknowledgment of guilt
has not been hard for me the past four months.
I wonder what Delaney would say if I texted her back I’m at
a strip club. Hoping Candi Apple turns me on.
She’d shit a brick, that’s for sure.
About the Author
USA Today and New York Times Best-Selling Author, Sawyer
Bennett is a snarky southern woman and reformed trial lawyer who decided to
finally start putting on paper all of the stories that were floating in her
head. Her husband works for a Fortune 100 company which lets him fly all over
the world while she stays at home with their daughter and three big, furry dogs
who hog the bed. Sawyer would like to report she doesn’t have many weaknesses
but can be bribed with a nominal amount of milk chocolate.
Sawyer is the author of several contemporary romances
including the popular Off Series, the Legal Affairs Series and the Last Call
Series. She will be releasing her third book in the Cold Fury Hockey Series
with Random House Loveswept, June 2015.
Giveaway
Thank you for hosting ZACK!
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