Gulliver of MARS

In this seductive new novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Falling in Deeper, mixing business with pleasure can be a dangerous proposition...

style="font-weight: bold">He's the hot, grumpy goalie I had a crush on in high school... and now I'm his live-in assistant. After my ex crushed my dreams in the music industry, I’m done with getting my heart broken. Working as an assistant for an NHL player was supposed to be a breeze, but nothing about Jamie Streicher is easy. He’s intimidatingly hot, grumpy, and can't stand me. The guy has a massive ego. Keeping things professional will be no problem, even when he demands I move in with him. style="font-weight: bold">Beneath his surliness, though, Jamie’s surprisingly sweet and protective. When he finds out my ex was terrible in bed, his competitive nature flares, and he encourages and spoils me in every way. The creative spark I used to feel about music? It’s back, and I’m writing songs again. Between wearing his jersey at games, fun, rowdy parties with the team, and being brave on stage again, I’m falling for him. style="font-weight: bold">He could break my heart, but maybe I’m willing to take that chance. style="font-style: italic">Behind the Net is a grumpy-sunshine pro hockey romance with lots of spice and an HEA. It’s the first book in the Vancouver Storm series, and can be read as a standalone. Tropes: grumpy sunshine slow burn boy obsessed pro hockey forced proximity (boss vs assistant + roommates) spice coaching

style="font-family: 'Merriweather','Georgia','serif'; font-size: 14px">Am I friends with JP Cane? Ha! That's laughable. Besides the fact that he’s adopted some far-fetched notion from the movie When Harry Met Sally that says men and women can't be friends and work together, it’s safe to say we're not friends. He's annoyingly loud, obnoxiously handsome, and has made an art out of poking all my hot buttons . . . multiple times a day. So you can imagine how disgruntled I am when I not only have to fly to San Francisco with him for work, but stay in the same penthouse. Yup, we're sharing the same air, twenty-four-seven. We're talking full-fledged working roommates. The man doesn't know what it means to wear a shirt, thrives off protein bars, and you guessed it, moans loud enough for people to believe he's Meg Ryan in a restaurant. Spoiler Alert: I WON'T be having what he's having. Tack on his continuous flirting and his polished good looks, and I'm caught staring down the barrel of a seductive temptation that makes it hard for me to sleep at night. But guess who can control herself? This girl. Because if there is one thing I know for certain, it's that JP Cane and I are so not meant to be