Her biggest fantasy is about to become a reality. . .
Hellion's Angels #1
Releasing July 11, 2017
Jed West is Mr. Hockey. The captain of the NHL’s latest winning team, the Denver Hellions—and the hottest player on the ice—at least according to every magazine. .and Breezy Angel. Breezy has been drooling over Jed at games for years, and he plays a starring role in her most toe-curling fantasies. But dirty dreams don’t come true, right?
Then Jed saunters through the doors of her library, a last minute special guest for a summer reading event, and not only is he drop dead gorgeous up close, his personality is straight up swoon-worthy. He even comes to the rescue when she has an R-rated “Super Book Worm” costume malfunction. But when he mistakenly assumes she’s more into books than pucks, she’s too flustered to correct his mistake. And then comes a big kiss, followed by a teensy-tiny problem. Jed’s dating policy is simple: Never date a fan.
So what’s a fangirl going to have to do to convince her ultimate crush that he’s become less of a perfect fantasy, and more like the perfect man. . .for her?
Jed West’s stomach curdled faster than overheated hollandaise sauce as he squinted at the menu for Zachary’s, Denver’s most popular all-day breakfast hangout. Ghost-like shadows haunted the specials list, blurring the descriptions for peanut butter French toast, country fried steak benedict and sweet potato pancakes. Ah, shit. Not fucking now. There went the prices too–the dollar signs and numbers blurring until barely legible.
No point blinking. He knew the drill. Jaw tight, he reached for his orange juice, took a swig and waited. Short bouts of double vision had dogged him ever since Game Seven, the pattern the same. After a minute or two, his focus would snap back to normal as if nothing had happened. Until then, he needed to follow one of coach’s favorite axioms: “Suck it up, Buttercup.”
Who cared about the damn menu anyway? He pushed it to one side, having already ordered the “Manwich”, chorizo and eggs smashed between a jalapeno cheddar biscuit–the kind of breakfast that wanted to kill you in the best kind of ways–and crunched ice. Too bad the cubes didn’t pass on their chill, because this. . .situation for lack of a better word, was getting under his skin and it shouldn’t.
No–Scratch that. It couldn’t.
Unexplained double vision wasn’t a walk in the park, but facts were facts. And the ugly truth was that if he didn’t quit batting his lashes like Scarlett O’Hara with a fly in her skirt, The Post’s toughest sports columnist would glance up from across the table, mistake his tic for a cheesedick wink, and go Lord of the Flies on his nut sack.
At least for the moment, Neve Angel was occupied. She hunched over her digital voice recorder, dark bangs obscuring her sharp gaze as she fiddled with the control settings. Her lips moved to the upbeat Buddy Holly song piping over the sound system while she plucked a mic from her messenger bag. His vision came back online in time for him to read the orange button pinned to the front.
Had a Ball at The Rock Creek Testicle Festival.
Christ, looked to be an authentic souvenir too.
Slamming his knees together, he forced a grin, the one that had potential endorsements lined up around the block, eager for him to shill everything from vitamin infused coconut water to shaving cream. He unwrapped the paper napkin from around the fork and knife, and began tearing the corner into neat strips.
No doubt the eye thing was fatigue-related, an inevitable toll from the grueling NHL season and subsequent hard-fought playoffs. Everything would be all right in the end. If it wasn’t all right, it wasn’t the end.
“You plan on telling me what’s up with Mount Napkin Shreds?” Neve leaned her elbows on the recycled wood tabletop, a signal they were shifting into interview mode. Her brows arched beneath her thick-cut bangs. “Nervous about being in the hot seat, princess?”
“Yeah, terrified,” he answered laconically, not missing a beat. Hiding his true feelings behind a mask of confidence was a reflex; it came with the territory of having the “C” stitched on the front of his jersey. A good captain never showed fear to an opponent. “A jackal’s bark is worse then it’s bite.”
“Jackal? Don’t tell me you’re using Gunnarisms now.” She rolled her eyes. “And I’d so wanted to enjoy my bagel without gagging.”
The Hellions Head Coach, Tor Gunnar, had a reputation for dismissing the press as “jackals.” He fostered a tense relationship with journalists, in particular, the tiny woman sitting opposite. Neve had run a piece on his divorce a few years ago. He retaliated by refusing to call on her during press conferences. Neve hit back with increasingly critical op-eds. Their mutual enmity had devolved to the stuff of local legend.
Top Five Sexy Hockey Players
By Lia Riley
We all know hockey players are hot as puck. Here are five NHL players I’d love to have a face off with, and by face off I mean stare at and drool over. Who are your favorite hockey gods? Tell me in the comments, bonus point if you link to a pic 😊
In no particular order because all get two solid thumbs up:
1. Sidney Crosby, Captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sidney_Crosby). He has boyish good looks and Tom Hardy lips, can’t ask for more than that!
2. P.K Subban, Defenceman for the Nashville Predators (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P._K._Subban). His eyes could melt ice, plus he won Olympic gold in 2014 Sochi Olympics.
3. Joffrey Lupul, Left winger for Toronto Maple Leafs (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joffrey_Lupul). He likes to play the guitar too, so not only is he pretty, he can also croon you a love song. Plus that jaw bone could cut glass.
4. Tyler Seguin, Center for the Dallas Stars (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tyler_Seguin) Three words: Full. Sleeved. Tattoos. (nuff said)
5. Darnell Nurse, Defenceman for the Edmonton Oilers (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darnell_Nurse). Not only is he 6’3 of pure yum, he also roots for his sister who plays basketball for Team Canada. That makes him a hero in my book!
A la Twitter style, please describe your book in 140 characters or less.
Curvy, nerdy librarian gets a chance to score with her fantasy crush, the captain of the Denver hockey team.
What did you enjoy most about writing this book?
I really enjoyed two things about writing this book: Breezy Angel and Jed West. I have always loved the trope about the so-called “ordinary” person who falls for a celebrity who in turn views them as nothing short of “extraordinary.” Probably one of the reason that Notting Hill is one of my all-time favorite movies. I wanted Jed to be alpha in the bedroom and obviously an amazingly talented athlete, but I didn’t want to right him as a one-dimensional “bro.” Instead, I wanted him to be a good guy, someone supportive of team mates and his woman. A natural leader who thrives by building up those around him, most importantly his lady. And as for Breezy, I wanted to write a woman who wasn’t drop-dead model perfect. I don’t know women like that in real life, and I want to see people in line around me at the grocery store get a chance to have their own swoony, earth-shattering happy ever after moments too!
Can you tell us about your upcoming book?
I am so excited for readers to get their hands on Book Two in the Hellions Angels series. Head Coach is coming out on November 21st and features (wait for it) Hellions Head Coach, Tor Gunnar and his enemies-to-lovers relationship with determined sports journalist Neve Campbell. There is hate kissing, a bet over a game of air hockey and a fake date to a wedding. Also, it’s one of the sexiest books I’ve ever written.
And don’t forget about Virgin Territory about the team goalie who is not only an almost-priest who was kicked out of seminary school, but also has a reputation for brawling. Plus he may or may not be a virgin hero.
If you had a theme song, what would it be?
Don’t Stop Believing by Journey…because I’m mostly an optimist, plus I would take immense satisfaction creating ear worms every where I went.
If you had to title your own life what would it be and why?
Did I Leave the Stovetop On?: A Lia Riley Story
After studying at the University of Montana-Missoula, Lia Riley scoured the world armed only with a backpack, overconfidence and a terrible sense of direction. She counts shooting vodka with a Ukranian mechanic in Antarctica, sipping yerba mate with gauchos in Chile and swilling fourex with stationhands in Outback Australia among her accomplishments.